Queenstown ladies sing this song...

We have been camping in Queenstown, adventure sports capital of the world and historic gold rush area. Yeehah. Mecca for adrenaline junkies (gamblers and rich folks). How was it? Jack and Barney thought it was the bees knees. Sean and Jenn weren't so sure. It was busy and reminded Jenn of Newquay in high summer Yuck. A real tourist trap. Lots to see and do though, if you are young and carefree its a fun place to be.

We began our adventure with a car crash. Jenn had her very first accident in 24 years of driving. She rear ended someone at a single lane bridge. The Mondeo remained unmarked by the incident so nothing to bad. For those of you familiar with Norwich this is a spooky bit now as the Bridge was the Edith Cavell Bridge. For those of you who don't know, there is a statue of Edith Cavell outside the cathedral, as well as a pub named after her. Doo do doo do.

Jenn made Sean drive the next 200 metres up the hill along the gorge to the campsite. We camped at the Top Ten Arthurs Point Shotover camping ground. The camp manager raised one elegant eyebrow almost to his hair line when he found out we were camping. Aparantly we were the first family camping that year. We found out why a little bit later. We should have realised when we noticed there was snow still on the hill tops and the ski field was still open. It was so very very very cold at night. But the lounge and kitchens were toasty and warm and we spent a good evening playing cards, putting wood on the fire and drinking hot chocolates and avoiding going to bed until we had to.


We had resolved not to move the car again until it was time to pack up to go home. So out came the bikes and off we went to Arrowtown. The sun was shining and it was a great ride out.

Quaint. It seems to be the place where the kids that went to Queenstown go when they've grown up. Great fush'n'chup lunch with vinegar! Nzers don't do vinegar on their chips as a rule, odd. Very sobering historic Chinese gold miners settlement. Some stories of the young men who came and got left behind for whatever reason to grow into an impoverished old age. The ride back was not so jolly. It turns out the reason why the ride in was so nice was because we were going to face the head wind on the way home. OMG did it blow hard and gusty.

Following day was cycle trip into Queenstown for Seans birthday treat – the Luge!


Great fun had by all. We recommend it. Going up in the cable car and the chair lifts were an adventure in themselves. White knuckle ride for those who don't do heights (that would be Jenn then).

We moseyed on down to the lakeside where there was an artists market and some live music. Then it was back to base for another night of cards and instant mash potato with baked beans. Yum. And another cold, cold night of not quite sleeping.

The Sunday saw us pack up camp and the long drive home. We had planned to go through a very scary mountain road to Wanaka for lunch. However, we turned right instead of left. Now this shouldn't have been a problem but right took us away from Queenstown and petrol. 10 kms up the road Sean says “ umm we need to get fuel soon”. As we approach the turning for the the Scary zigzaggy James Bond in Switzerland mountain road we stopped. Looked up. Looked at each other. Looked at the fuel gauge. Turned, looked behind us at the trailer. Looked at the boys. And decided that that would be a very dumb thing to do. We opted for the less thirsty route to Cromwell. After about another 5 kms the car spoke. “Ding”. “That was the fuel warning light” said Sean. Sean began to sweat a little which in turn made Jenn a bit nervous. We were about 25kms from civilisation on a twisty turney mountain pass road with no idea how generous Ford were with their fuel warning system. Jenn reckonned that it was a Ford and therefore catering to idiots so it would be quite generous. Sean said he hoped so because, he reminded Jenn, if the engine cut out so would the steering and the breaks. “Oh” gulp. So after some very fuel efficient driving from Sean we crept up the mountain through the pass, down the mountain (fingers very crossed here) and onto the valley towards Cromwell and fuel. We made it! Sean filled the tank and calculated that we had less than ¾ of a wine bottle of fuel left in the tank. Ice creams all round. So top tip. ALWAYS KEEP YOUR FUEL TANK FULL ENOUGH. There is not a petrol station on every corner out here.

We had a very stylish picnic at Lake Dunstan and then of to a soak in the hot pools at Tekapo before taking the last stretch home. Which was nice.

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