Thursday, May 11, 2006
Canberra, Australia
After the Doubtful Sound cruise, on the 28th April, I travelled back to Queenstown. I had some odd conversations with some people in my dorm that evening. I was talking to one guy from Denmark, and he guessed that I was from Sweeden. Later, I was talking to an American girl who guessed I was Scottish or Irish. When I told her I was English she said - this is the worst part - "OK, but that must be the far north of England, right?" Northern? Me? God knows what's happening to my accent.
I had two further full days in Queenstown, and the weather was now marvellous (if a little on the chilly side). On the 29th I visited a tiny village called Arrowtown. There's not much to say about it, except that it's tiny and quaint. More exciting was the walk up the hill behind Arrowtown. The views weren't just good: they were better than the maximum I could possibly appreciate, and I actually felt overwhelmed. Maybe I was just in a funny mood: the views I got the next day were even better, so now I can't remember what the fuss was about. Anyway, the wide, fertile valley lay before me, with postcard-perfect snow-capped mountains framing either side. Maybe it was the sunny weather that made it look so good, maybe the contrast between the vivid green of the grass and blue of the sky, maybe all the details of fields, roads and houses I could see in the valley.
Now, the idea of doing a bungy jump has always scared me shitless, but I decided that I'd have to do one whilst in Queenstown. It is, after all, the home of bungy. The first bungy jump ever was from the Eifel Tower - the guys who did that set up the first commerical jumping site in Queenstown. Now I'd done the skydive, I was kind of looking forward to it...although I didn't know how the hell I'd force my body to jump off a high ledge. That afternoon I did a canyon swing, which was my bungy-type activity.There's a huge free-fall, but instead of bouncing around, you gracefully swing across a canyon at a rather high speed. I stood on the ledge, talking mindlessly to the operators which I think was a subconscious delaying tactic. When I decided to go, I tried not to think about it too much: I did a little run and leapt off. The next few seconds were unbelievably terrifying, but unbelievably exhilerating. When I'd finished I fell for their damn clever marketing: doing a second jump is much cheaper, so I went again. This time I sat in a chair on the edge of the ledge, rocked backwards, and fell. I'm actually shivering now, just thinking about it.
On the 30th I climbed up the mountain behind Queenstown called Ben Lomond. It was billed as a "6 - 8 hour demanding hike", so I thought I'd take the cable car up the first bit. There were, of course, great views over the town from there. Queenstown is in a very dramatic setting: by a lake and surrounded by mountains. But the mountins really crowd close round the town, and rise spectacularly to above the snow line. There was also a 'luge' track, although the things were more like go-carts than luges. That was fun. I then set off up the mountain. It was a hard walk, but not as bad as all the leaflets had made out. When I got really close to the summit, I was actually walking through snow a foot deep. I was glad people before me had left footprints, or else I wouldn't have known where the path was. As I climbed, more and more of the surrounding area came into view. Hills that I'd seen towering above me at the start began to look like insignificant little mounds. When I finally reached the top, I was rewarded for 360 views. It was just mindblowing. Hopefully you can tell I'm doing my best to make this sound good. The reason: it was one of the best things I did on my trip.
After the Doubtful Sound cruise, on the 28th April, I travelled back to Queenstown. I had some odd conversations with some people in my dorm that evening. I was talking to one guy from Denmark, and he guessed that I was from Sweeden. Later, I was talking to an American girl who guessed I was Scottish or Irish. When I told her I was English she said - this is the worst part - "OK, but that must be the far north of England, right?" Northern? Me? God knows what's happening to my accent.
I had two further full days in Queenstown, and the weather was now marvellous (if a little on the chilly side). On the 29th I visited a tiny village called Arrowtown. There's not much to say about it, except that it's tiny and quaint. More exciting was the walk up the hill behind Arrowtown. The views weren't just good: they were better than the maximum I could possibly appreciate, and I actually felt overwhelmed. Maybe I was just in a funny mood: the views I got the next day were even better, so now I can't remember what the fuss was about. Anyway, the wide, fertile valley lay before me, with postcard-perfect snow-capped mountains framing either side. Maybe it was the sunny weather that made it look so good, maybe the contrast between the vivid green of the grass and blue of the sky, maybe all the details of fields, roads and houses I could see in the valley.
Now, the idea of doing a bungy jump has always scared me shitless, but I decided that I'd have to do one whilst in Queenstown. It is, after all, the home of bungy. The first bungy jump ever was from the Eifel Tower - the guys who did that set up the first commerical jumping site in Queenstown. Now I'd done the skydive, I was kind of looking forward to it...although I didn't know how the hell I'd force my body to jump off a high ledge. That afternoon I did a canyon swing, which was my bungy-type activity.There's a huge free-fall, but instead of bouncing around, you gracefully swing across a canyon at a rather high speed. I stood on the ledge, talking mindlessly to the operators which I think was a subconscious delaying tactic. When I decided to go, I tried not to think about it too much: I did a little run and leapt off. The next few seconds were unbelievably terrifying, but unbelievably exhilerating. When I'd finished I fell for their damn clever marketing: doing a second jump is much cheaper, so I went again. This time I sat in a chair on the edge of the ledge, rocked backwards, and fell. I'm actually shivering now, just thinking about it.
On the 30th I climbed up the mountain behind Queenstown called Ben Lomond. It was billed as a "6 - 8 hour demanding hike", so I thought I'd take the cable car up the first bit. There were, of course, great views over the town from there. Queenstown is in a very dramatic setting: by a lake and surrounded by mountains. But the mountins really crowd close round the town, and rise spectacularly to above the snow line. There was also a 'luge' track, although the things were more like go-carts than luges. That was fun. I then set off up the mountain. It was a hard walk, but not as bad as all the leaflets had made out. When I got really close to the summit, I was actually walking through snow a foot deep. I was glad people before me had left footprints, or else I wouldn't have known where the path was. As I climbed, more and more of the surrounding area came into view. Hills that I'd seen towering above me at the start began to look like insignificant little mounds. When I finally reached the top, I was rewarded for 360 views. It was just mindblowing. Hopefully you can tell I'm doing my best to make this sound good. The reason: it was one of the best things I did on my trip.# posted by Alex @ 4:11 AM 
