Queenstown, New Zealand 3/3/05

Queenstown, New Zealand 3/3/05

I left West Palm on the morning of February 23 and since then I have been wandering non stop. Numerically that is only 8 days. In distance, experiences, and memories it has been far more.

Before leaving town I once again did 3 days of freelance work at the Artigras Fine Arts Festival as the Entertainment Chair before squeezing in one day of work at my “real job” and then off I went. As usual life was frantic leading up to my departure so the body and mind are tired even before I leave. The passion kicks in though and I go for days and days on small hours of sleep.

I recently started seeing a girl named Jillian and she’s a great segue into this rambling chronicle that will lead to where I am sitting today. Jillian and I met years ago at CbN. Her family used to come down every week. We always talked and would occasionally run into each other out at the bars. She’s very attractive but I never really saw a clear invite from her to ask her out so I never did.

Well a week before I left on my big adventure I ran into her at CbN. She was down with her Mom and a couple friends. I met them out at Bradley’s afterwards and then eventually we all grabbed some late night grub at Havana’s. By the end of the night I had finally asked her out on an official date and I think it’s safe to say I’ll be seeing more of her.

Oh, I should also mention that official date was a Buffett concert a couple days later. It was an Office Depo Center show, indoors, but still a great time and even better with her joining me. On a side note Buffett played a great set. Several non-greatest hits gems and a great cover a Jack Johnson’s The Horizon Has Been Defeated, but I digress, back to the Jillian story.

I met a friend of hers that night at CbN by the name of Kim. While making small talk with Kim she told me she had just moved back to WPB from LA. I told her I had a 12 hour lay over in L.A. next week while I was on my way to New Zealand… I would love some suggestions on places to go. After knowing me for about 10 minutes she said,
“Oh, I have friends out there. I’ll check with them and see if they can show you around.”

The next day I got a note from Gretchen in L.A. saying she was off work on the day I was coming through and she would be more than happy to hang out with me for a day.
“I have blonde hair and I drive a little green convertible. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

I just laughed. A friend of a friend of a friend, who I only know from CbN, was picking me up at the airport. You can’t tell me there in no such thing as good Karma! My life is way to amazing for there not to be.

My day in LA with Gretchen was great. We spent the day in Venice Beach; lunch at a good Mexican restaurant, a walk around the canals, a stroll down the Venice Beach boardwalk. You hear people talk about the friendly people of the Midwest and the South. LA is supposed to be filled with the shallow and superficial but again my theory that there are far more “good people” in the world than bad was proven yet again on that day.

After walking around a while we came back to Gretchen’s afore mentioned little green convertible and it wouldn't start; dead battery or so we thought. I popped the hood and she went into the bar we were parked in front of. Before we even had time to look up a tow trucks number we had one lady out there trying to help us with a battery charger and then right after her a guy who deduced it was just a loose battery connection, “I got some tools in my truck.” He said as he walked off towards the parking lot. He came back with a power tester and wrenches. Five minutes later the car was started.

I offered to go inside and buy him a beer and he just said “Don’t worry about it.” and went back inside. Gretchen and I cruised on down the road but the experience did not go unnoticed. The world is a friendly place you just don’t hear about it enough.

The rest of the day was spent on a street and area known as Abbott Kinney; a very eclectic, artsy area. I loved it. We hit a few bars that were pretty slow during that time of the afternoon which only makes it easier to meet people. In a crowded bar you often don’t talk to anyone. When there are only 5 strangers at a bar a conversation almost always erupts.

That day was no different. At one stop I met a clairvoyant who said I have a great looking aura. Her friend claimed to be a Buddhist throat singer which I guess usually brings more questions which is why he seemed amazed when instead of inquiring what that is I told him I knew a Mongolian throat singer in Chicago. “Let’s hear what you got.” I said.

He then treated us to his talent. The other 3 people at the bar stared on in amazement as a deep resonating hum came out of the guy’s throat. He was pretty good but he didn’t demonstrate the high range that the guy I book from Chicago has. How funny is my job sometimes?! I know throat singers?! I must have one of the most bizarre government jobs ever!

My day getting to know Gretchen was great from a conversation stand point too. She is originally from Texas. She moved to LA a couple of years ago with just a car fall of stuff. Of course it sounded pretty familiar. We had a few drinks at various bars all day and when she finally dropped me off at the airport at 9 p.m. I was exhausted. I almost fell asleep waiting to board the plane. Its 15 hours from LA to Sydney. I slept the first 8 hours. The guy sitting next to me was amazed. What can I say, it’s a talent. Well it is probably better categorized as a skill. A little something I learned from living in a fraternity house. Being awake for 21+ hours makes it pretty easy too!

My new backpack was waiting for me when I touched down in Sydney and it felt great to strap it on my back; officially time to start wandering!

Dave met me at our designated spot in the airport and off we went. He is living back in Chicago again but got into Australia a few days before me to hang out with his former coworkers from the time he worked there. He took me to his friend Chris’ place where he was staying and I took a much needed shower. I remember thinking on the plane that some of the people were starting to stink. Once I was alone I realized it was me! Doh!

Driving with Dave around Sydney is a great way to see the city because he doesn’t really know where he’s going. No worries of course. We always eventually get there and it usually adds a few laughs along the way plus I couldn’t do any better.

We spent the rest of the day kicking around the waterfront at Darling Harbor that afternoon. We sucked back a few beers and got caught up on stuff. We checked in at the Grace Hotel where I spent my last night in Australia almost 3 years ago. It’s a great hotel, very comfy beds, and an even better pub downstairs.

That night we met up with a bunch of Dave’s former co-workers and friends. Most I had met before on my previous Sydney visit but there were a few new ones too. The bar was packed and lively; great atmosphere for catching up with old friends in Dave’s case and meeting new ones in mine. There was a great cover band in the corner. Well really it was just two guys with acoustic guitars but they had an impressive set list and the whole place was jumping.

Most of Dave’s clan jumped ship, or, in Wills case and to continue the metaphor, were asked to get off the boat, by Midnight but a few of us; Dave, Lisa, and I hung out until the early morning hours. Keep in mind I had just arrived that morning. As the clock approached 3 a.m. local time, I realized that I was now pushing 30 hours awake. This lack of sleep was getting ridicules. Eventually I was going to crash and sleep through 2 days of vacation.

Dave and I flew out of Sydney at 7 a.m. the next day. My 3 hours of sleep didn’t show until we touched down in Wellington New Zealand around 2 p.m. I was exhausted! I went straight to bed at the hotel with instructions for Dave to wake me up in 3 hours. He gave me 4 hours and then we went out for dinner. I was back in bed 3 hours later and slept the night away. I have another day in Wellington coming up so I’ll do my wandering of that city then. So far it was just the location of a much needed bed!

We flew out from Wellington to the South Island, again at 7 a.m. and after 4 straight days of early morning airport trips I was ready to sit in one spot for awhile. Little did I know that Dave had picked the best place for us to do just that; Queenstown New Zealand! What an amazing place!

Walking off the plane I felt like I had finally reached my destination. In a way I had. My plan for the next 3 weeks involves several destinations but the core of this trip and the inspiration for it has always been to see and experience New Zealand and in my mind that picture is the South Island.

Queenstown is a small place. I was told the population is about 11,000 residents. Even when you double that to account for tourists it’s still a small town feel. The scenery on the flight in was impressive; mountains and valleys in every direction. The sights after landing were just as inspiring. There was no skywalk, jetway, or bridge off the plane. It was down the stairs and straight out into the sunlight and warm air. Welcome to the south island of New Zealand.

All the hostels were booked up. Maybe we should have done some planning for this trip other than booking our flights. Nahhh. We checked into a hotel and would move to the Bumble Hostel a day later for the remaining time that we stayed in Queenstown. It was a block away from our hotel and had a much better view and about $100 cheaper per night. Sure we were now in bunk beds and a tiny room with a common bathroom but I still loved the hostel more than the hotel. I wonder if I’ll ever grow out of that.

On day one we booked our adventure trips for the following days and then we took the gondola to the first stop of Bobs Peak. The view from the gift shop/lounge/observation deck was great but of course that just would not do for me.

Dave and I kept walking up the stairs behind the building. The stairs eventually ended but the trail continued on upward. We soon reached a fork in the trail. I recited a little Frost. We picked the trail that looked to go more uphill and we kept going, and going and going.

We paused now and then to take in the view and I would double check with Dave that we were not yet pushing his height limits, not that we were climbing some jagged cliff or anything. It was very steep in places requiring the occasional use of your hands for some steps up but mostly it was just a steep grassy slope.

When we eventually reached the peak the top of the gondola station was just a dot below us. There was rolling hills of grass all around us; thick trees below. In the distance you could make out the rocky, jagged tops of The Remarkables mountain range with a dusting of snow on the highest peaks. Lake Wakatipu was spreading out to the West in shades of beautiful deep blues. I felt great and thought “Ahhh, this is what I came for. See a hill and you go climb it. I love it!”

Later that day I went for my first run in almost 3 weeks. I didn’t think to mention it before but I had been training to run my 5th marathon here in New Zealand on March 5, in New Plymoth to be exact, on the North Island. After my Chicago run I couldn’t wait to get another race on the schedule. I looked around the U.S. and had conflicts with all the Florida runs in the Spring and basically could not find a race that fit into my schedule of work & play anywhere in the U.S. A quick check on the international calendar was all I needed. A small race in New Zealand right in the middle of the time Dave and I were planning on being there. Perfect!

Well the timing was perfect and training was going great until I developed a small strain in my left ankle the first week of February. It was probably one of those little injuries that with a few days rest I’d have been fine. Instead, through my stupidity and fear of losing training progress, I pounded the little strain into a full on injury requiring a trip to the doctor, an MRI, and a month of rest. Oh, and of course, no Spring Marathon for me this year.

So, as I was saying…My first run back felt great. It was on a winding trail heading west out of Queenstown, along Lake Wakatipu. The sidewalk heading out of town soon turned into dirt and I found myself running through a forest of small growth trees between the lake and road under a full canopy of leaves. Next on the trail came some low steep hills and steep descents. I ran faster and faster. I was so excited. To be alone and running in such a gorgeous setting felt great. I was finally truly in New Zealand!

The trail ended in a couple miles at a small boat dock, a big rocky clearing and big rocks along the shore. The water was crystal clear. The sun was bright. A cool breeze blew in off the water. There were hills and mountains in every direction; no houses, no buildings, no power lines, no radio or TV towers, no people. I had one of those moments where I looked around and soaked all these things in and then laughed out loud. All alone in a magnificent setting and a smile just won’t hold in the joy. I’m so happy I laugh out loud like I have just been told the funniest joke. What a great day that was!

Queenstown has been a whirlwind of outdoor adventure. I went rafting, mountain biking, jet boating, a helicopter cruise through a river valley, and a few afternoon hiking treks. To really get the adrenalin going I started off back to back days with bungy jumps. It’s an odd vacation when you set the alarm so you can get up early to jump off a bridge.
The first jump I did was The Nevis, at a monstrous 134 meters. The next day I did another off the Kawarau Bridge; a 43 meter plunge into the river below. I’m not sure what it is but I love jumping off of things. Climbing something and then jumping off is even better. If there is water below, well that’s just about my most favorite thing to do; climb, jump, swim, repeat, which is probably why my most favorite experience in Queenstown was Canyoning.

Dave and I went canyoning in a spot outside of Glenorchy, 40km from Queenstown, along the Routeburn trail in what I think was the Mt. Aspiring National Forest but I’m not sure. I’m also not sure on the name of the actual river. I apologize for my poor record keeping. I was too excited.

The water was very cold, around 10 C. So they give you a thick neoprene wet suit, boots, & hood. On top of that goes your rappelling or abseiling harness, lifejacket, and helmet. A lot of gear compared to just shorts and Tevas that I’m usually wearing when I find myself jumping off of cliffs. Of course in this instance the gear is much needed.

The drive from Queenstown to Glenorchy by itself is a gorgeous trip and worth the money that we paid the outfitter. I could not get over how amazing the scenery was and there was no development. No houses, cabins, driveways, power poles…nothing. Such beautiful country and all of it wide open to everyone. Perfect. I’ll admit to looking like a dorky tourist because I wanted to take a picture of everything! I was having a blast and we had not even gotten to the main reason we were there.

We also hung out before and after the actual canyoning at a great little café in Glenorchy. Glenorch is a small town, probably just a few hundred people live there and I loved the atmosphere. It was a great location to kick back after the fun and have a few pints with the new friends we had met on the trek…but I’m getting ahead of myself.

After gearing up Dave, 8 other adventures in the group, and I followed our 3 guides; Lee, Gordy, and Scotty across the stream and into the woods. It was a relatively steep 20 minute walk up the mountain, in the dark forest, to where the trail intersected with the river and the part of the canyon that we would use to start back down.

During the hike you got to know everyone in the group which again is something I love about traveling. Most of our fellow adventurers were American but there was one English girl and one South African girl. The South Africans name is Beth and we would end up hanging out with her a couple more times while in Queenstown. Also on the way up you get to know your guides which on this occasion would also turn out to be a highlight of my New Zealand experience.

The standard opening lines when meeting other Backpackers is “Where you from?” After traveling for awhile you can start to guess but you don’t want to screw this up. For example calling a Canadian an American never goes over well. Either way your home base in the world is always your opening line. It’s usually followed by “How long have you been traveling? Where have you been? How long are you traveling for?” etc.
It’s during these questions that my true status as a poser Backpacker becomes evident but all go into that detail later.

While making our ascent up to our insertion point I had this exact conversation with several people; when one of the guides asked me the same question. When I said Florida he said “No shit. What part?”
I said, “West Palm Beach.”
“No shit, my parents live in Jupiter. In fact I lived there a few months about a year and a half ago.”
Truly surprised I said “No shit.”
“Yep I even worked at Flow.”
“No shit! My office is half a block away from Flow. I’ve been there a few times. I work for the Mayor’s Office in West Palm.
“No shit!”

This “No Shit” conversation went on for the rest of the walk much to our amusement and as I would find out later, to the amusement of some of the international travelers with us. I guess “No Shit!” is a very American saying and we only proved the stereotype that day.

Our guide Scotty is a Swiss/American and he has lived all over the place. Currently he spends half the year in Queenstown and the other half in Interlaken, Switzerland where he does more adventure guiding which could be anything from rafting to sledging to canyoning. Basically he is what I would love to be if I had another life to live. We hit it off right away.

Like I said earlier the water in the canyon was really cold but it still felt great plunging into it. After a few jumps and slides Scotty could see that I had a passion for this type of thing and started giving me more options. “Mat you can do a flip off this one if you want.” Absolutely! At one point he even took me to a higher point about 8 meters high for more flips off the rocks into the white water below. Of course my lower height flips were better visually and my neck is still a little sore from a poorly rotated back flip. I need to practice from higher elevations but I wasn’t there to impress anyone. I was just there to have fun which is what I did and in the process entertained the others in our group.
After our time was done in the canyon we all chilled out back in the small town café I mentioned earlier. When the rest of the group was loaded up for the drive back to Queenstown Dave and I stuck around. We cruised back to town in the gear truck with Scotty which at quitting time also meant hitting one of the local pubs in Queenstown for a few pints.

Ahh, a new friend, I love it. It was great getting the locals tour from Scotty. We hung out with him and his girlfriend, Sara, the next couple nights including one night at the bar that Sara worked at that I loved, Winnie Bagoes. The roof opened up! In a bar! Fantastic!

We got really off the Backpacker trail one afternoon with Scotty and went lawn bowling. It’s a big sport in Australia and New Zealand, but I usually just saw retired folks playing. You might be outdoors and you are not rolling a ball at pins but the atmosphere and attitude of the patrons is similar to a bowling alley in the States including a snack bar that serves beer that we took full advantage of. Great fun!

In addition to Scotty, the canyoning trip also set the stage for hanging out with fellow travelers in the evenings. Actually through every adventure activity that I did in and around Queenstown I would introduce myself to the people doing it with me. Some we would meet out for drinks later on in the day or week. Others I would just see around town. Even as I have been sitting here at this coffee shop writing this entry I have had two acquaintances walk by and stop to talk to me. You would think I was at my neighborhood Starbucks on Clematis Street.

I met people from England, Ireland, Canada, and as I mentioned earlier, Beth, from South Africa. We hung out with her a couple nights and the three of us exchanged e-mail addresses for possible future hook ups on other trips. In fact, with her help, after a few frustrating moments staring at the evening sky, I finally saw it. They say “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time you understand now why you came this way.” Well I already knew why I was here but for the record I saw the Southern Cross for the first time on a chilly night in Queenstown, New Zealand.

My giant mochachino is gone and I have 5 minutes to get back to Bumbles before Scotty picks me and Dave up for lunch. We are going to some local burger stand we have heard a lot about, Fergburger. Yum, I’m hungry!

After that unfortunately it’s on to the airport again with Scotty giving us a lift. Our time here in Queenstown is done. It’s funny. We have only been here about a week but it seems longer. We even have a friend to take us to the airport now but I suppose time means nothing when it comes to friendships.

We are flying back to Wellington and then…well after that I’m really not sure. I have 6 days until I fly out of Auckland. I have no idea what I’m going to do before then. Hell I don’t even know how I’m getting to Auckland! All I know is there are a lot more places to see and people to meet…and I can’t wait!

MJF