|On the bike path from Arrowtown to Gibbston Valley|
Every time I visit Queenstown, I am shocked by the number of tourists. Especially American tourists. Talk, talk, talk you Americans, always "let me say this" or "I think that". Somewhere around Queenstown I discovered that everyone on the South Island (except for the few New Zealand born people who live there) thinks we're Kiwi. I stopped bothering to add "originally Los Angeles" when asked where we were from. Even with Nicole, Jancie, and I wearing Gap sweatshirts (sorry Zooey), we apparently pass for locals. To get away from the crowds, we stayed in much quieter Arrowtown.
|View from King George Bathhouse|
|View from King George Bathhouse if you crane your neck a little|
Also every time I visit Queenstown, I am reminded of why there are so many tourists. Forgetting about all the dangerous things to do, sitting lakeside with a cup of coffee and a scone makes the entire trip worth it.
The next two days are a blur of driving; trying to get to Picton for a 1PM Friday ferry (and a Purim party in Wellington that night). After arriving to Picton in plenty of time, we got to sit in the car for an extra 3 hours while they made some sort of repair to the boat...or possibly to the boat that was blocking the dock for our boat. Sitting in a car that is not moving for 3 hours is only slightly better than sitting in a moving car for 3 hours.
|Franz Josef Glacier. I'm thinking there might be something to this global warming thing.|
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