So, 2 days whizzing around on the the white stuff, a stack of ridiculous feeds, a beverage or two and a turn on the world’s biggest swing and the weather forecast Gods appear to be getting the sh!ts. Booked ourselves a wine tasting day, posh looking little bus with 8 or so tasters and a 9.20am pickup, lovely jubbly!
Fortunately, the d!ckheads in the weather office here have no more clue than the clowns on our side of the ditch! Skies are blue and our bus pulls up at 9.20 sharp. First stop Gibbston Valley winery where an entrepreneurial Irishman decided on hiring a few explosives experts to extend his property under the next door mountain. Not strictly legal, but bloody oath, next level awesome. Brand new, sound proof party zone and perfect conditions for maturing the fermented grape stuff. Happy AF that the insultingly awful Sauvignon Blank hails from the Southern parts of these lands and won’t be appearing on our tasting menus today. On the subject of grape varietals, I have personally always considered Pinot Noir not to be a real wine, more a slightly watered down version of something tasty. Let’s get cracking on my edumucation!
There is a touch of guilt and something sublimely pleasing about raising the first vino of the day just after 10 bells, Pinot Gris, don’t mind if I do.
Predictably, the noise level in the bus is on the up as we exit the second winery, a few of the more strident tasters are coming round to the idea of some swinging or a cheeky skydive!
Round 3 on our tour involves a BBQ lunch as well as a few more slurps. My Pinot Noir journey is well underway and I have to confess to being a convert. No standard BBQ here, some clever Kiwis have repurposed wine barrels into a sort of smoker/blast furnace, hybrid thing that does proper justice to chunks of protein. 5 courses of this with matching grape juice and the bus volume heads up another notch.
Cheese platter with more wine and noise last up, then a quick stop in historic Arrowtown for a shoofty around. A swift lap of this 100m long town gave us just enough time for a cheeky pit stop in the pub and a pint of ginger bear, (Not a spelling mistake).
Inevitably the day ended up in a bar back in Queenstown with the bus driver in tow, gunna be a slow start tomorrow.
Brekky and coffee consumed, time for a wander up the gondola just behind our pad. Views over this fabulous place are next level. Just for giggles, some genius has carved a Luge track into the side of the hill. Let’s be careful we say to each other, one more day on the slopes tomorrow! 2 minutes later, these little buggers are on 2 wheels around the bends, maximum grin factor activated. There is also a handy chairlift back to the top of the track and a few more injury attempts.
Safely back down in town, we give the ice bar a wide berth and take a gentle stroll around the botanic gardens. Walking around such a beautiful place clearly not enough for some. Some bellend has combined a forest, frisbees and a few buckets with chains into frisbee golf! I thought nothing could surprise me. The education continues!
In a nation of sheep botherers, Queenstown is almost totally populated by foreign nationals proudly sporting name badges with country of origin flags. Maybe this is some sort of safety system for the sheep. There is however a large statue of a welly wearing, Velcro gloved individual lording it over his wooly friend down by the marina! Quick waft around the pond on a cruise, then off to the Bunker for a few courses of luxury and an early start up the slopes for our last day.
Things are getting serious when the bus driver pulls over to fit snow chains a quarter of the way up the hill. Up to the top and 12cm of fresh powder has dusted the playground. Legburn o’clock appears to be here again and off we trot. Day three on the slopes after 25 and 30 years, we are carving graceful, curvy patterns down the mountain, no fun at all. 4 hours of grin infested giggles later, it is time to press the buggered button, return the rental gear and kill some time in the bar before our 4 bells bus back down. What a seriously awesome place this is. Home for a shower and a change, then out for a Mexican ahead of a stupidly early flight home. A few spicy micheladas and general starfish bothering nibbles, could be a rough flight for those near 20 A&B.
Can’t believe it took us 23 years to get here, we will be back in a heartbeat. Thank you Queenstown, thank you to our new sponsors, Pinot Noir, The Botswana Butchery and protein purveyors in general. See you soon xxx
