Attempted to see Nightlife of Queenstown (there’s a party girl in there somehwhere!) Alas everyone was 22, and I am very much not that…so was mixed reviews, to be honest…

Plumped for Pog Mahones (you can alllllways rely on an Irish bar!) and watched the clientele get slowly more smashed as the night wore on, from my disapproving table in the corner. Listened to some decent live music courtesy of “Dave & Joe” (could use a PR rebrand) and nursed my elderly disposition with rum and ginger ale.

That was until I was saved by a group on a golf tour (always golfers!), who asked to join my table and keep me company. Pat, Gerry, Michael and Paul (disciples, Beatles…?) whatever they were, they were an utter joy….and before you start thinking, things are looking up on the handsome man front, Emma…all very much in their 70s! Michael was 83 and had won their annual tournament. It has been going for 25 years, and they even have their own trophy and green jacket emblazoned with their tour logo awarded to the winner. We talked about Rory finally securing his grand slam, impressed by my extensive acquired knowledge, they encouraged me to take up lessons.

Gerry had cancer, 1 remaining lung, and kept going out for a smoke! Proclaiming “life was for living, Emma” and saying they were proud of me for travelling solo “go on girl” and a lot of high 5s. Covered my bar bill for most of the evening and were truly gems be around. Said they were keeping a look out for eligible bachelors at the bar for me. Pat kept saying, “Trouble is Emma, everyone is rent an arsehole in Queenstown,” and no one was good enough for me. Don’t make gents like they used to, eh!!

They then all jeered at Michael and called him a pussy for going home at midnight (….he’s 83!) and the rest outlasted me! Propping up the bar till closing no doubt…

I headed solo to Ballarat bar which is the best place to end a night in Queenstown apparently…shades of Infernos on a very small scale. Sticky floors, wildly inebriated patrons and perhaps the worst dancing I’ve ever seen. And we all know, i’m no Usher Raymond, so that gives you some clear perspective. Decided to leave when DJ mashed up Sweet Caroline with Swedish House Mafia ….

Strolled back to hotel for decent sleep ahead of Sunday at the Autumn Festival in Arrowtown. 

Arrowtown, incidentally, is adorable. Plastered in picture perfect autumnal vistas, not out of place in a Bob Ross painting.

It’s probably best described as if Wes Anderson built a set for a Western in Nz. Nick, the tour guide, did a free 1hr walking tour of the town as part of festival celebrations. Really interesting and informative. Stumbled upon in 1862, it established itself as a gold rich town and has strong history of mining, a pioneering port of the Nz gold rush.

Fair few dropped off as we went round which I always find so awkward (shit review much!) and culminated in maybe 5 remaining of the original 30 odd. Made my excuses when the tail end of the tour became less about Arrowtown and more about Nick’s decision to move, his unfavourable commentaty about his ex wife and personal offer of additional stop at the pub for a drink after. Good to see that I still have the magnets for ’emotionally unavailable but like to think they’re complex’ men, even in this hemisphere! Eye roll.

Seemingly got the pisshead express back to Queenstown courtesy of coinciding with kicking out time at the Pie, Pints and and Pinot event taking place on the village green. Live music, breweries and a lotta lotta pinot if bus clientele to be believed. Serenaded by terrible performances of Johnny Cash, Frankie Valli and a particularly shocking Ed Sheeran on the 30 mins home.

Swung back through Queenstown and the queue for Fergburger? A miraculous 10 min wait! So, soldiered through my carbohydrate coma (ergh!) and tried a different burger from the menu. I’d been recommended the “Chief Wighum” several times, two giant slabs of pork belly and a hash brown in it. An impossible to eat feat. Delish, but man, I need some vegetables!

Food here is like the UK 30 years ago, all pastry, bread and pie and barely a green in sight. I can only assume people keep so healthy from all the hiking as it’s not to be found in the restaurants and bars here!

Had a lovely facetime with the fam and slept for 10 hours!

Monday was overcast, so a chilly wander soaking up cafe and bar culture. Made the final Ferg finish line with a drink at Mrs Ferg’s. Lovely looking bar, but perhaps the worst cocktail i’ve ever had in my life. Which considering I’ve drunk lumimous blue cocktails mixed in a plastic dustbin at Uni…is quite the accolade!!!  A “jungle funk” to be precise and basically just bitter liquid smoke in an icy glass. Read my kindle and reordered a French Martini…

Sushi for dinner at cute little Sushi Train restaurant. Marvelled at the Skinkansen, bringing my dinner and thought fondly ahead to Tokyo, then dutifully inhaled on account of everything shutting by 8pm rule. Overheard a man in the park today tell his wife, through thick kiwi drawl, it was “a bit too bloody late for lunch darl” it was 1pm….

Spent my final day in Queenstown, visiting the Queenstown Gardens and the rest of the next few hours wondering why I hadn’t made it here earlier…utterly beautiful. Pristine display of autumnal perfection. Wandered the crispy leaves, meandered through the mammoth pines and surveyed the lake from my bench like I was in a Jane Austen novel. Perched for a while to watch the paragliders over the lake, read my latest book and had one of the most scenic pieces of chocolate I might ever have in life.

Doing my upmost to savour the brain pictures here and not get too adjusted to the awe of it all. Really such an utterly beautiful place.

Wandered past one of the many Apiaries in Nz (pretended I knew than Apiary was the name for a bee hive house before now…) read amazing fact that it is estimated one third of all the food we eat relies on bees for pollination. Savoured the info on save the bees which they are really trying to do in abundance here and was glad they were accommodating enough not to sting me.

Praise be I found a real life salad!!!

I got a Ceaser salad takeaway from a restaurant bar and took it to Perky’s, a cute little bring your own food floating bar on a boat on the lake of Wakatipu. Obviously empty at 1.30, as we know, far too late for lunch! And realise very quickly they have to have bring your own food appeal as you also need the sturdiest sea legs around to counteract the rocking. Trying to drink a pint like being on one of the vibrating muscle plates from QVC. Downed it and the salad as quickly as possible, without projectile reappearance of either, and got back to “dry land.” The pirate life most deffo ain’t for me!

Wandered down to Steamer Wharf for a nice glass of Pinot Noir (which they’re famed for here) at Boardwalk bar, savoured the view, read a few more chapters and tried to shake off the swaying.

Caught a pinky purple sunset on the promenade of Public, and tried some local craft beers watching the sun disappear over the Remarkables. #craftbeerwanker

Grabbed a lamb pie from Ferg Bakery for final night dinner and toasted a time when every meal wasn’t covered in pastry.

Early night as the adventure continues with a trip up the west coast to Franz Joseph tomorrow via Wanaka for more sights of the south. x