Shotover Jet:
Minus Keanu Reeves, Sandra Bullock and the subequent love story, we starred in our very own Speed movie in Queenstown. Instead of a bus however, we had a jet boat. Instead of explosives strapped to us, we had our driver, Shane.
The Shotover Jet, as it was called, was a must do in Queenstown. The jet itself can shoot across 10cm of water at over 80km an hour – what a show off hey! We were warned about the heart stopping race through the Shotover Canyon, but nothing prepared us. Nothing.
Dressed in what I can only describe as cloaks stolen from a hairdressers and lifejackets, we board the boat. Some of us were shaking (not amy and I), some of us were jumping with excitment (guess who!).
We zipped. We zapped. We pulled 360’s. We sped so dangerously close to the canyon walls and river rocks that I think a few passengers added a few rocks of their own. Curde. Possibly a bit grosse. But true. It was awesome. Shame about the lack of Keanu Reeves though….and Sandra Bullock for that matter.
Queenstown:
As a town it was tres cute. Every inch the sweet alpine village…just without the snow at this time of year. Set at the foot of some snowless mountains and aside a vast lake, it is really was a beautiful town to spend time in. A tranquil skiing paradise I imagine at times. A backpackers mothership at others. Like Sydney. God I hate backpackers. I know I am one, but I still hate them. Backpackers seem intent on getting permanently pissed at night and then spending their days holed up in their hostel room ‘dying.’ Is that traveling?
Yes, Amy and I did succumb to a few drinks….call us sheep. We got drunk. In fact, very drunk one night. I vaguely remember falling down a hole….but I digress. Queenstown didn’t really hold much for Amy and I, mainly because most backpackers, drunk or not, flock to this South Island mothership to emerse themselves in adrenalin activities:
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skydiving
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bungy jumping
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gorge swings
Now….haven’t Amy and I already done these? I feel a ‘When we were in Africa…’ escaping my lips again!
Lord of the Bo-Rings:
New Zealand is Hobbit country. So, traveling with Amy ‘I wish I were a Hobbit’ McCulloch meant I was bound to get suckered into a Lord of the Rings road trip. This came in Queenstown.
Happily playing driver for the day and with Amy clasping her (signed!) location guidebook, we hit the road for our own Hobbit-esque adventure. Except, unlike Frodo and his merry men, we were in search of locations not a place to destroy a frankly very evil ring, but we channeled the Hobbits talents at finding places without getting lost. We were hopeful. Turns out, we would never make good Hobbits.
New Zealand has obviously clued into its LOTR popularity (the locations are on the road maps for god’s sake!) and has begun charging for entry into these previously public places. Cheeky monkeys! And, for those that were free, you were required to be driving a 4WD…which Sunny is not. Poor guy is still holding a grudge as only a Nissan can. So, all in all, it was a pretty uneventful road trip. Stupid hobbits make it look so easy.
Later on however, we had a stroke of luck and managed to see all the locations from the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ movie. Watching the DVD isn’t cheating? Is it?
