Queenstown was the first place I visited in New Zealand nearly seven years ago, but more importantly, it was the place that made me fall in love with it. I found a spectacularly cheap flight across the Tasman asked my cousin where I should go. He said “Go to Queenstown.” Great, I said. What do I do there? “Get a Fergburger.” Ladies and Gentlemen, I did not get a Fergburger. And I didn’t get a Fergburger on this trip, either. I have better things to do than stand in line for two hours. Third time’s a charm?
Don’t get me wrong, I loved digging my toes into the sand and running into the surf on Christmas Day, but when winter in the Bay of Plenty proved to be just a slightly cooler, breezier version of summer, I found myself dreaming of a true snowy winter, and I had no trouble convincing my friends to make a holiday of it with me.
Queenstown
My friends and I greeted each other at Tauranga Regional Airport on Friday, still yawning and rubbing our eyes after working late the night before. After several cups of coffee, a spectacular dawn view on Mount Ruapehu from the skies, and a five-minute connection in Christchurch we made only by the skin of our teeth, we were descending into Queenstown and it was only 10:00 in the morning.
I’d been keeping an eye on the Met Service all week after seeing reports of strong gusts diverting several flights away from the landing strip between the mountains. After almost a year of living in New Zealand, I’ve gotten used to cancelling weekend getaways at the eleventh hour due to hellish weather, but we were lucky this weekend. If I could offer just one piece of advice about planning any trip in New Zealand, it is to be flexible because Mother Nature might have other ideas to you.
After landing, we picked up a rental car, a Toyota Yarris, which was sooo roomy and after packing and unpacking and repacking several times we managed to squeeze three of ourselves, our luggage, and our ski and snowboard gear into the tiny little hybrid. It was time to begin sightseeing—starting with another cup of Joe and a walk along the lakeshore.
Arrowtown and Aryburn
I’m a bit obsessed with the New Zealand Gold Rush. Arrowtown is one such settlement and it’s only 20 minutes from Queenstown. In the fall, its Avenue of Trees, consisting of sycamores, elms, oaks, ash and rowans lining Buckingham Street, turn a brilliant gold. We came in the dead of winter so the gold leaves were long gone, but that’s not all this rustic town has to offer. After a spot of lunch in a creaky attic, we spent the afternoon exploring the well-preserved gold miner’s cottages, the vintage post office, walking the muddy Bush Creek banks, and queuing up inside the Remarkables Sweet Shop like a trio of miscreants visiting Willy Wonka’s Factory.
Nearby Aryburn hosts Christmas from late June to late July each year, complete with twinkling lights and an outdoor ice rink. Unfortunately, my friends and I travelled in August so we just missed this Christmas display, but if you time your trip just right, you may catch Santa!
The Remarkables and Après Ski
Saturday was a beautiful day to venture up the mountain. We got a tip from our accommodation that the snow was more compact at The Remarkables than it was at Coronet Peak, so that’s where we went. One of my friends had never snowboarded before but was keen to give it a try, so we stuck to the green slopes while she got her bearings and by early afternoon we were careening down a steeper hill. After having our fill, we headed back down the mountain, searching for respite for our aching muscles and cold extremities.
It wouldn’t be New Zealand if we didn’t have our choice of hot pools. Onsen is the better-known one with its views of Shotover River from its cedar-lined tubs, but it books out months in advance. The Bathhouse opened quite recently, and it’s conveniently located at the base of the gondola, so we didn’t have to get back in our car and drive anywhere. We felt relaxed as soon as we walked into the building. The whole place was infused with, well, I’m not entirely sure, but it smelled like vanilla and eucalyptus coming through the air vents.
We alternated between the Scandinavian-style sauna, steam room, and cold, tepid and hot plunge pools, and walked out feeling completely rejuvenated. The only thing that could make the day any better was a piping hot cup of mulled wine, and Queenstown delivered. A steaming mug of Merlot with cinnamon, cloves and orange peel that comes with a view of snow-capped Cecil Peak from Queenstown waterfront? Yes please.
Glenorchy
On Sunday morning we set off on a different kind of adventure. The hour-long drive to Glenorchy traces a path along the shore of the lightning bolt-shaped Lake Wakatipu. At the end of Swamp Road, we met the folk at Lighthorse Adventures and saddled up for our morning ride. I’ve never been on horseback before, and my mare, Pixie, certainly didn’t want to make my first ride easy on me. She was a very playful girl who gave me plenty of pushback!
Once Pixie and I got our bearings, we cantered out of the gate and crossed the Dart River, which flows from the glaciers in Mount Aspiring National Park into the northern end of Lake Wakatipu.
On our way back to Queenstown, we made a point of stopping on the side of the road to enjoy the vistas. Otago is so beautiful, and I felt right at home the first time I came here. Turns out, you can spend your whole life dreaming of living by the beach, but when you were born and bred on mountainsides dotted with wildflowers and sparkling with ice, being back on the slopes fills you with a sense of longing you never thought possible. The best way to bring an action-packed long weekend in the south to a close is with a warm cup of milo at the Queenstown waterfront and a brisk hike up Tapu Nui, or Queenstown Hill, to appreciate the view of this small but beautiful town in the Southern Alps.