South Island Bus Adventure Day 7: Franz - Queenstown

Before I jumped into my 6.5-hour trip to Queenstown, an amusing event started the day. As I stood waiting for my bus on the main street of Franz Josef, another large tour bus pulled up to the town's only bus stop. Out of the front door filed dozens upon dozens of Asian tourists (Cambodian? Laotian? Filipino? Definitely not Japanese, Korean, or Chinese). They rushed past me to swarm the main street, taking pictures of everything--random shots down the street, pictures of a building here or there, pointing the camera up at nothing in particular. They seemed to be particularly interested in the town's tourism centre building, seeming to miss the mountaneous landscape that surrounded Franz Josef. They then turned their attention to taking pictures of each other: in front of the tour bus, standing in the middle of the street, or in front of the public toilet next to the bus stop. Most of them stood stoicly with arms at their sides and no smiles, here and there someone would make a "V" sign with her fingers. Then, as if on cue, they flocked back to the bus, streaming past the Pakeha bus driver who stood adjacent to the door with a look of resignation on his face. Then, they were gone as abruptly as they'd arrived.

The bus ride down to Queenstown marked the end of my lucky streak of good weather during the trip. It rained nearly the whole way down, obstructing what I'm sure would have been some awesome views of the Haast Pass. By the time we reached Wanaka, 4 hours from Franz Josef, it was absolutely downpouring. I think that I packed really well for this trip, and I ended up using everything I brought with me, but my one regret is not finding a good, warm, waterproof jacket with a hood in the States to bring with me to NZ.

It had started to clear up a little by the time we passed Lake Hawea and drove down (literally) the steep roads making their way around the Pisa Range. This was definitely not a drive for those afraid of heights--just a low rope barrier separated the van from a drop of hundreds of metres to the valley below.

We made it to Queenstown early, and it had started to rain again. My hostel was quite a distance away from the city centre (a "leisurely 15-minute stroll" according to the website, made more bothersome by the rain), across from the town's lake. Queenstown is probably one of the only places in the world that is simultaneously a lake resort town and a mountain resort town. It looks like a little alpine village--there's a gondola that takes visitors up into the ski areas of the mountains, and in the other direction, steam boats to cruise around the deep blue lake.

As a resort town, it's also open at all hours--even on Sunday night when I arrived, there were plenty of people milling about; Auckland would have been dead at the same time. The city centre was lined with plenty of shops to outfit you with all the ski and snowboard gear you'd need for a day in the mountains, and I'm sure that these shops convert into swimwear shops in the summer when it's warmer. Also, as a resort town, Queenstown is very expensive. Prices on everything were about 25% more than the rest of the country. On the flip side, I had two of the best vegetarian burgers I've ever had in Queenstown, including the best burger ever at the legendary Fergburger, which is open nearly all hours and has a line streaming out the door at any time of day. Probably one of the things I'm going to miss most about NZ is the wide variety of really awesome vegetarian options in the restaurants here. I'm starting to take it for granted, and I think I'm in for a shock when I get back to the US.

This is not a Fergburger, but another place called Devil Burger

The next day, it had cleared up a bit, and I had the opportunity to take some more pictures before hopping on the bus to Te Anau.