Wet your pants

Make you wanna gasp, make you wanna wet your pants

Queenstown

Make you wanna gasp
I walked up from the corner of Camp and Shotover Streets to the Chalet Queenstown where I was greeted by Moira. She showed me to my room and told me that Alex, my next gay, would be back in the morning and had left a message to say that he hoped I enjoyed my brief visit to Queenstown. I had quick shower to get the smell of damp bus passengers off me and then headed in to town for a walk in the evening sunshine. My first impression of Queenstown was that it was a very pretty little place but somewhat lacking in queens. I’m not sure I spotted any gays while I had my bimble round town. The place seemed to be populated with youngsters, mostly groups of people in their late teens or early 20s by the looks of them. I realise that the last sentence makes me sound like Mother. The travelling had taken it out of me so I had some dinner and a glass (bottle) of wine before an early night.

At breakfast the next morning I got to meet Alex who chatted to me over coffee. I had a full day in Queenstown and wanted to get a taste of the place so Alex gave me some suggestions of things I could do. The only thing I knew about was the Shotover Jet, recommended to me by Shane and Damien up in Picton. He said it was good fun although a little on the pricey side and gave me a couple of other suggestions. He also said I should take the Skyline cable car up the hill to get the best views over the city. After breakfast I took his advice, walking down into town & heading to the cable car. Having got my ticket I joined the queue of people waiting to go up. There was a couple in front of me and a couple behind me. The cable cars took four people. I prayed that I would be allowed to go in one on my own rather than having to play gooseberry with one of the couples. It wasn’t that busy so I got a car to myself.

Three signs that made me giggle

Once at the top I stood a while watching people racing down the luge track that was at the summit. There were also people paragliding from the top of the mountain. I didn’t partake in either of those activities, instead opting to go for a walk along the trail that led round the summit. The views from the top were amazing, the lake and the mountains providing a great backdrop to the little town down below. I headed back down in the cable car once again getting a car to myself. Once back in town I headed to the centre, managing to get a few photos of some signs that amused me along the way. I headed to the Shotover Jet office and chatted to the woman behind the desk for a while about the Jet. I asked if there were any discount vouchers or online codes I could use, hinting that I was also considering doing some other activity but didn’t manage to secure a discount. So much for my flirting skills. I booked anyway. I didn’t have long to wait until the bus was due to take us up to the Shotover River.

On the ride up we were given a safety briefing and watched a video of the jet boat going down the river. We arrived, were kitted out in lifejackets and anoraks and then taken down to the boat. There was the obligatory photo that every tourist attraction wants to take of you in the hope that you spend a stupid amount of money afterwards purchasing it. I had not bothered even having the photo taken in these places, normally just walking straight by saying that I was good. I tried that again but they wouldn’t have it, saying it was a legal requirement that they had a photo of everyone they took out on the jet boats for identification purposes. Needless to say that filled me with confidence in the skills of the driver.

Make you wanna wet your pants

The jet boat was amazing. We shot off at high speed, the driver explaining that the design of the boat meant that we could sail in just 4 inches of water. This allowed him to get very close to the edges of the river and the stony shores. It looked like we were on the land at times. The river itself runs through some rather narrow canyons, the large rocky walls sometimes barely far enough apart for the boat to go through. I kept my hands firmly inside the boat (as instructed) as the rocks we so close on occasion I involuntarily flinched sideways, leaning on the man next to me. The driver was clearly very skilled. One of the women sat in the front row spent most of the time squealing in surprise whenever we got near the rocks or the edge of the river. Everyone else spent most of the time chuckling at her squeals. We did a few 360 degree spins, getting a little wet in the process, before finally getting back on to dry land. I didn’t bother going in to check out my photos and instead hopped on the next bus back in to town.

By the time I got back into town I realised it was late afternoon and that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. An ex-colleague of mine, Danny, had recommended a burger place in Queenstown as a must visit place. I headed to Ferg Burger. Despite it being way past lunch time and not quite dinner time the place was heaving. I ordered myself a burger with blue cheese and a side of fries, collecting them and then heading over to a little park to sit in the sun and eat them. Now, this will come as a shock to many of my friends but I couldn’t finish it all. I got through the burger (it lived up to the billing Danny had given it) but struggled to make a dent in the fries. The exhilaration of the day’s activities, plus a bottle of wine in my room resulted in me having a quiet, early night. 

I had another early start the next morning and was up an out before breakfast so I didn’t get to see Alex. I left him a thank you note and a bottle of wine. I was off to spend a night in Dunedin, my penultimate stop in New Zealand. The journey, taking in a scenic detour, involved a bus and then a train. The bus was collecting me from outside the Chalet. I had just wheeled my case out when the little bus came round the corner and pulled up beside me. Apart from the driver the bus was empty. As I put my case in the back the driver told me that I was the only passenger so if I wanted I could sit up in the front. My own chauffeur service for the price of a bus ticket! As we drove along he pointed out various things to me and gave me some local stories. We stopped en route and had breakfast together.

We arrived in Middlemarch where I would be changing on to the Taieri Gorge railway. I found my carriage and settled myself in to my seat for the journey. The views were stunning, as promised, but the highlight was a brief stop in the middle of nowhere at a place called Arthur’s Knob. All that was there was a sign with the name of the place. Nothing else, just the sign. I obviously got a photo and yes, I giggled at the name too. I arrived into Dunedin late afternoon.

“Make you wanna gasp, make you wanna wet your pants” 
Lyrics from Fast from the musical Zanna, Don’t