Saturday, March 07, 2015


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.

Goodbye Picton

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