Leaving Sydney the next morning was a blur. I wish I could remember more of it now that I’m closer to caught up… but I remember the Sydney airport for international flights not being worth description in any way… except that the gates here work slightly differently than in the US. Rather than different gates for all flights, the same gate may be used for various flights with a letter distinction like “D” being used (so our gate was 26D), and all this means is that when the announcement comes for the gate with the “D” distinction, we’re allowed to board a bus with that letter on it, but the same “gate” is used regardless. This is different, but not too confusing really. We boarded the plane, and once again I questioned why I like travel so much… we were on a Quantas flight, and my knees barely fit in the seat at all. I’ve mentioned I’m tall, but I’m also no small individual at over 350 pounds, and there was a lot of angling and accepting reality to fit in the seats. Jen pleaded with the flight attendant, but this has been a reality of my life (and why you’ll typically find me in an upgraded seat on domestic US flights) for years now, and there as nothing to be done. It was a few hours before we were to land in Queenstown, and I settled in for the flight. I read my ebook (Red Rising), I listened to music by Bleachers, and we made it. My knees will recover, my wanderlust intact, we were landing in New Zealand!
Customs was a breeze this time (Jon has learned not to claim his snacks as food items, though New Zealand was extremely strict on things like soil on shoes and even checked ours to ensure we weren’t treading in foreign seeds), though we did have to take out and explain some souvenirs, and soon we were in a SuperShuttle and on our way into downtown Queenstown.
On the flight, one of the ladies had complained about not getting a window seat (she was sitting in one, but it was only a wall instead of a window. One more strike against Quantas apparently), and that she had planned on getting pictures of the mountains while landing. I didn’t realize how beautiful of an area we were visiting.
We landed in a bowl of mountains, there’s no real other way to describe Queenstown, and by and large the most impressive feature of the town are the mountains that surround it. People come from all over the world to ski here, but not being skiers we were also interested in the local shops, the lake, and the trek we’d do tomorrow to Milford Sound. Our shuttle let us off at our hotel, and I lamented a bit about our choice of room. We were staying right in the middle of the hotel complex and probably wouldn’t have any great sweeping views, but I joked with the lobby hotel attendant anyway about “we’re getting the room with the best view, right? That’s the one we’re hoping for!”. It wasn’t the best view in the hotel, but I do think the joking helped! We did end up with a room that had a view of the lake, and the mountains, it could have been a lot worse! We stashed our things, and headed into town.
A view from the hotel in Queenstown
Queenstown is an extremely quiet (at least in this time of year) mountain town, much like the one you’re envisioning right now. There are a few major streets that run from one end to the other, and all in all the town is probably less than one square mile. There’s one grocery, a few liquor shops, a few convenience stores, and a whole lot of local shops and tourist attractions. What separates Queenstown in this area is the very large body of water along its side, and the wharf that runs the length of town as well. We headed there first, intent on finding food and watching the afternoon turn into evening.
After meandering throughout most of the wharf, we ended up at a small restaurant named Public, where I had some of the most amazing pork belly I’ve ever eaten, and we warmed up with a few celebratory beers. We’re now on the downhill side of this trip and we’re relaxing a bit more. We hung out with the friendly staff, discussed some of what Queenstown has to offer, and then about our excitement for Milford Sound tomorrow, where we had an all-day tour scheduled. On the way back, we found ourselves in a confectionery’s shop full of candies and fudge, and bought some fudge for the hotel since it was still early. Paired with some wine, we had quite a night planned! We sat out on the balcony, the three of us, and ate fudge, drank wine, and relaxed. I tried writing a bit of this blog , but again the WiFi was not very friendly and I gave up on the endeavor for the time being.
Eventually, as the sun was setting, we decided we were hungry again. We’d heard from multiple people in town, friends who have visited, and even the front lobby that we absolutely had to visit an establishment called Fergburger. Jon was set that we’d love this place, and he was right! Well… Jen wasn’t in the mood for fried food, so she did not love the place, but Jon and I walked exuberantly down to our one unvisited street in town, found spots at the bar, and overindulged.
Fergburger is what would happen if you let a Michelin chef pretend he was thirteen years old when designing a burger restaurant and bar. There are steak burgers made with ribeye and topped with bacon, regular burgers about a pound thick with double cheese and sauce that will make our arteries harden instantly, wasabi mayo for french fries, and onion rings the size of some people’s heads. I ordered the ribeye burger, and assumed I would get a burger made of meat that was rib-eye quality beef, instead I got cutlets of ribeye on a bun that were seared medium and spiced wonderfully. Mix that with the bacon and cheese, and fries with the wasabi dipping sauce, and it was probably the best “burger” I have ever had in my life (the second time I’ve said that this trip!).
While we ate, Jen walked the town looking for some food of her own, and after striking out (I’d say 80% of the New Zealand/American cuisine here is fried in one way or another) we ended up stopping at a restaurant called “The Pig and Whistle” on our way back to the hotel to get her some food. I rocked out to 90’s music and had a beer while Jen enjoyed a chicken sandwich, and we called it a night. The walk back up to the hotel here is murderous, about a fifty-degree angle for five blocks, and then a left turn into the hotel to walk at about a sixty-degree angle for another block to get to our room. I’m not enjoying that part at all!
