Today I woke up early and sat on our lovely patio and caught up on my travel journal. Unfortunately I forgot what day it was so I had to turn on my cell phone to tell me what day it is. (I can't figure out how to make the phone work, but I think it might have; when I first got to NZ I turned it on because I was curious and immediately got a "Welcome to New Zealand!" text message containing instructions on how to call home. It didn't work. The only call I was able to make was to a NZ operator who couldn't figure it out either. Oh well, it probably would have been very expensive. But I did turn it on periodically throughout the trip and suddenly, on my birthday, it told me I had two voice mails, with that little envelope icon taunting me, that I couldn't retrieve. They ended up being happy birthday messages. How sweet.)Anyway, what a vacation, that I need the satellite-fed date feature on my cell phone to tell me what day it is! We eat breakfast at the hotel restaurant and encounter something that gives us weird vibes: the waitress picked up a huge pile of plates and, as if in slow motion, dropped them all right next to me as I waited for my toast to come out of the industrial-grade cafeteria-style toaster. This happens to be the fourth or fifth time on this trip that someone has dumped a huge load of dishes or the like somewhere right near us. It's very weird. I can't figure it out but I suspect it has something to do with the society's lack of tipping. Like, people are less cautious because they don't need to earn tips. I should ask the Freakonomics guys about this.
After breakfast we head out of Wanaka on our way to Queenstown, but first stop at "Mount Iron" for -- what else? -- a wee hike. It's pretty steep but makes us feel good. There's a pretty cool view at the top. It also gives each of us a chance to actually use the new hiking shoes each of us got in preparation for this trip, since we had to wear the rented boots on the glacier.
It doesn't take long to get to Queenstown. Along the way we make a pit stop for a photo op at "the highest sealed road in New Zealand," which was first "sealed" -- paved -- in 2000. The way down is where we see some of those 15-km max speed warning signs. Yikes. Did I mention that their lanes are much, much narrower there than here, too? Uneasy dri
vers need not apply. I can't imagine what this trip would have been like eight years ago.Queenstown turns out to be a pretty cool town! It's a pretty small city -- we make quick work of mastering its layout -- but it provides ample eateries and places to sit by the water and chill. It's also a pretty adventuresome city, with this thing where people can jump off the mountain while hanging from some kind of parachutey thing (uh, forgive me for not knowing what it's called, this is sooo not my thing). It's also really close to the first bungy-jumping site, a bridge marked as an important site with the classically Kiwi signage alerting drivers that nearby is a "Historic Plaque." They never tell you what the attraction is, they just say "Historic Plaque" with an arrow and you're supposed to either know what it is, or step on the brakes and check it out. At least this one, we knew what it was, so we were ready.
Anyway, I'm glad we have two days in Queenstown because it seems pretty cool. Tonight we do a very Rachael Ray type thing and eat a small, inexpensive pre-dinner meal around 3 p.m. at this super-cute seafood shack right by the lake. I have some steamed mussels and a faux Diet Coke (it's a cola, it says, with "Real American Taste") and Leah has some steamed p
rawns. Here, they leave the heads on the shrimp, eyeballs and all. Good times.A friendly guy with a cute puppy talks to us. Then we walk over to the "beach" (it's really just rocks) and we sit for a while. Then we walk around some more and contemplate either drinking or eating again. We choose drinking, and sit at an outdoor pub and people-watch. We watch as this one talkative guy at a table with his friends greets and hugs pretty much every girl that walks by. He's like the mayor of this street. Then we walk around some more. I think about buying things. I don't. Then we think about eating and eventually settle on a real seafood place right next to the lake. I eat more mussels.
The best thing about vacation is definitely the eating, and a close second is all the walking to combat the ill effects of all the eating.
