Chillin' in Queenstown

It's been almost a week since Beth and I arrived in Queenstown, a short hop-skip-and-a-jump from Wanaka. My friends Becky and Johnny from Halifax, Nova Scotia were already in Queenstown when we arrived, so our posse just doubled! with the exception that Johnny is not feeling very well, so the three girls have been busy keeping ourselves out of trouble.... During one of the sunny days, we went up to the gorge and tested the water temperature in hopes of becoming convinced to try "river sledging" sometime in the near future. Hmm... the water is a bit brisk. That doesn't scare off Becky at all. She's still game, if we are.... We'll see. The colour of the water in the river is just as magnificent as the intensely blue sky. Sometimes it's hard to believe this place is real.

Becky had picked a hike for the day that appeared to follow a river up toward an old hut and a mountain pass. We didn't make it to the hut or the pass, but we trekked along a stunning valley for a while following the sheep path, and then stopped at a river junction where I did some wonderfully peaceful yoga, and Becky and Beth relaxed under the warm sun.

The next few days kind of blur together. We weren't drinking, honest. Well, I had a glass of wine or two, but my lapse in memory is more because we've done so many things, I'm not sure which activity was when... All I remember is that I bought a pair of running shoes and Becky and I are going for hour-long runs and we feel awesome, us three girls have eaten a lot of gourmet ice cream (Holy moly - soo good), we've walked all over town window shopping, we've watched quite a few movies, and we attempted the 'nightmare hike'.

I'll fill you in on the 'nightmare hike'. We looked at the map book during the drive out to "Isengard" from Lord of the Rings, and chose a hike to do that we figured may give us some good views and a nice long trek: Sylvia Lake to Sugar Loaf. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Yeah, not so much. The most interesting thing that we can write about is how we came across some great obstacles: mud puddles!

I am usually pretty good at picking places in the mud that look shallow enough to step in, but one time my judgement was a little off and my leg went in up to mid-calf level. Surprisingly, I was able to retract the mud-covered leg without getting water in my boot! Whoah, I'm one lucky lady. The evidence photo below shows me frowning, but it was hard to hide my smile - I totally love mud puddles.

After a few hours of hiking and flicking off the mud bits, we stopped to re-evaluate our options. Should we continue the circular track for the remaining 6 hours and see if we ever get out of the forest, or should we stop now, turn back and go get some coffee? When Beth spoke her mind, she said something about either option being okay, but she'd "probably rather go back and end this nightmare hike." The use of the word 'nightmare' said it all, and we started bookin' it back down the trail towards the trail head.

The cold, damp air swarmed around us during our lunch break, and we were forced to bundle up as though it weren't actually February, that which the Kiwi's call the hottest month of the year. Brr! Dude, where's my toque?!

The only scenic view we were lucky enough to feast our eyes on during the nightmare hike was, ahem, the view from the parking lot: The events that followed later that evening proved to be much more entertaining. We got our dose of gourmet ice cream in a waffle cone and sat on a bench next to the waterfront in the heart of Queenstown. There was a man trying to make a few extra bucks dressed as a chicken and dancing to his music on the side of the walkway. You too can be a dancing chicken! All you gotta to do is buy a yellow, super tight jumpsuit, paint some goggles red, put some random dance mix chicken tunes on your ipod, and if you really, really want to get it going on, you can buy a few toilet plungers from the hardware store and add them to your show. This guy was ballsy, that's for sure. Hey, buddy, I'd be hiding behind red goggles too, if I were you.

One fairly normal-looking woman in her fifties didn't think the hidden identity was required to dance like a chicken because she came strolling up to the chicken dancer and started bawking and dancing up a storm. The two were bawking in such a fashion that it appeared they were truly talking 'chicken' and having a heck of a loud and intense conversation. --Wait, it get's better-- So, the woman's husband is standing beside us which is far enough away from his wife that people won't suspect they are together. He said that she had been watching the chicken dancer for the last hour or more from their restaurant window across the street. We were all laughing, as were most of the other innocent bystanders, with the exception of these two older fuddy-duddies walking up the path trying not to look at the obvious display of silliness occuring beside them. The chicken woman decided to try and spread the chicken love and bawked and danced and cooed the prim and proper couple. She was right in their faces, trying to get any reaction, and the couple did nothing. Not even a flinch, eyes remained straight ahead, and no speck of a smile. Their amazing success in ignoring her invasion of their space in turn became the source of the bystanders' laughter!