Inexcusably, I had made it to my fifth year of university having never been to Queenstown before. I wanted another virgin to accompany me on my maiden voyage to central Otago, but my rudimentary inquiries as to the existence of such a person yielded no results. So I did the next best thing, and took two flatmates and a really expensive camera.
Friday
On Friday, we set off in my trusty Nissan March. The scenery was vaguely Martian at first but became increasingly beautiful, with all the fiery autumnal colours out in full force and the turquoise Clutha River shimmering beneath the setting sun. One German hitchhiker and about four hours’ drive later, we arrived. A twinkly winter wonderland suffused with tourists and consumerism, Queenstown struck me, a Christchurch native, as the Merivale of the South (on steroids).Base Backpackers, 47-49 Shotover St.
Two nights at Base in an eight-bed dorm with ensuite cost us each $30 (it seems to cheaper if you book online, as we had). We left the car overnight in the Man St Carpark building, located in the street adjacent to Base, $10 for 12 hours (and a rip-off – we parked on the street the next day).The reception is manned around the clock and is attached to Altitude Bar, which was to be the first stop on our “Big Night Out” bar crawl on Saturday. Our room was clean, warm, and spacious, with a fridge and a balcony overlooking the main street, and we had it to ourselves for the first night before being invaded by incestuous, sex-crazed Brits on a “Kiwi Experience.”
The bed was comfy and the linen crisp, although the bunk structure itself was disconcertingly wobbly, giving one the precarious sensation of being at sea. The shower was one of those push-button affairs (parsimony masquerading as environmental concern), and according to my flatmate, provided “the worst shower I’ve ever had.”
Fergburger, 42 Shotover St.
We ventured across the road to Fergburger, that bastion of culinary greatness of which I had heard countless friends speak in hushed tones of awed reverence. My astronomically high expectations were, of course, met. It was 8:30pm, but the place was still pretty packed. Barry at Fergburger had kindly arranged for Kim, a pretty English lass, to take care of us, and she proved extremely friendly and attentive. After she took our orders (a Codfather for me, Cockadoodle Oinks for the others, and chups), we managed to nab a seat.
The burgers arrived in record time and delivered what they promised. Simple, fresh, quality ingredients perfectly cooked and enticingly presented, I was impressed that Fergburger has clearly managed to maintain a very high standard of service and fare without falling victim to its own colossal popularity and success. The atmosphere was lively and positive, and the staff seemed to be enjoying their work. We left only too happy to nurse our new and prominent Fergbaby bellies.
No. 5 Church Lane, 5 Church Ln.
The next stop was No. 5 Church Lane, a five-star boutique hotel with a bar and restaurant attached. The bar has a fireplace at one end, a DJ at the other, and a chilled atmosphere that meant you’d feel at ease dressed up or down. The menu boasted 20 unique cocktails and punches and no classics (which can be made on request). The drinks featured exotic ingredients like apricot jam and homemade coconut icecream and were served in things like milkshake tins and ceramic ducks. I wanted to try them all.Hovering around the $14-$20 mark, you definitely get your 2+ standards’ worth – the cocktails were soul-warmingly strong (we had a Monk’s Sabbatical, a Thaipirinha and a Chignon between us). You could easily sit on one drink for an hour, so it was nice not to guzzle it back and be left wanting another. While perhaps not the first place students would think to stop on a boozy weekend to Queenstown, No. 5 would be the perfect venue for a special occasion like a birthday or grad, or just to start the night off classily.
Saturday
Vudu Café, 23 Beach St.
For brunch, we ventured down to Vudu Café, #3 on TripAdvisor for restaurants in Queenstown (Ferburger, of course, was #1). It was busy and the cabinet food was probably the best I’d ever seen anywhere. I ordered off the menu – free-range eggs with haloumi on Turkish bread with tomato, dukkah and rocket, and a rooibos chai for $21.50. The food was delicious – I’m going to try to recreate it at home – and while the portions weren’t massive, it was definitely enough to sustain me until dinnertime.Gently Used Clothing, 75 Beach St.
Tucked away a few shops down is Gently Used Clothing, which sells one-off vintage and designer pieces. It has less stock than Modern Miss but is more reasonably priced – I bought a chiffon cardy for $35 and my flatmate bought a wool cape for $40. Cash only (but there’s an ATM next door), GUC is worth a visit if you’re after a less conventional Queenstown memento. Just beware the “fitting room” – the window looks directly onto the street.Queenstown Botanic Gardens
After brunch, we meandered along the waterfront through the market (a disturbing number of people flogging their wares seemed to have Otago degrees), past the freakishly talented buskers, to the Queenstown Botanic Gardens, where I spent a happy hour writing in the sun looking out over the lake and the flatmates went off frolicking with the camera. A lovely spot for a picnic or a cheeky shag, I’m also told you can play something called “Frisbee Golf” there – worth looking into.The Shotover Jet
Then it was off to the Shotover Jet. You can either drive yourself to the River Base building on Gorge Road, Arthurs Point, or take the free bus from the information center on the corner of Shotover and Camp Streets, as we did (the drive takes about 10 minutes). Despite my best efforts not to be uncool, I was a bit nervous (having flashbacks of white-water rafting on the Nile), but I needn’t have been: the Shotover was a lesson in good, clean, non-scary fun from beginning to end, all for the reasonable cost of $129.
The Shotover Jet is adventure tourism for wimps like myself and my male flatmate (who squealed like a teenaged girl), and therefore a great outing for the whole family. You don a long raincoat thingy and a lifejacket, and are given a preliminary safety briefing before spending 30 minutes zooming up and down a narrow stretch of river at the bottom of a canyon at 90 km/h. Our charming driver, Ian (another Otago graduate) performed thrilling 360-degree pirouettes at a moment’s notice and I had lots of fun cackling madly at the thrill of Feeling So Alive.
Coyote Grill, 1/66 Shotover St.
Given the tragic deficit of Mexican restaurants in Dunedin, I was keen to get amongst in Queenstown. Coyote Grill is tastefully decorated with South American wall hangings and the cool Reggaeton playing over the sound system contributed to the feeling of authenticity, as did the fact that our babein’ waitress may well have actually been Mexican.Coyote Grill has an extensive drinks list showcasing a pleasing juxtaposition of Central Otago wines and Mexican beers and tequilas, along with the usual margaritas and sangria. You can order many of the items on the menu entrée size, which comes with one wrap and salad; or main size, with two wraps, beans and rice. My flatmates ordered an entrée-sized duck mole enchilada and a meal-sized chicken one, which they both thoroughly enjoyed.
My seafood fajitas ($31) would turn out to be a struggle to finish. Totally worth the price, my dish – calamari, prawns and fish marinated in Mexican herbs and spices – came out on a sizzling hot plate, accompanied by three flour tortillas as well as guacamole, salsa and sour cream.
The bathroom was possibly the nicest I’ve ever had the good fortune to come across – sparkly clean with a huge mirror surrounded by faux frangipani lights, and a Barbie and Ken stuck on the appropriate WC doors. Coyote Grill is therefore worth a visit, at the very least, for a luxurious wee.
Below Zero Ice Bar, Searle Ln.
As soon as I was asked to write this feature, I realised I was going to have to give up having given up drinking, bringing a recently-instated teetotal policy to a premature end. Ah well. It doesn’t count if it’s for journalism.Given Queenstown’s nippiness, the thought of going out of my way to make myself even colder was unappealing. But Below Zero, the bigger of the two ice bars in Queenstown, beckoned us. Made from 20 tons of hand-sculpted imported ice, adults can pay $32 for the entrance fee and one cocktail or $42 for the entrance fee and two. You can do this online, or just bowl up.
At reception, you put on a fur-trimmed jacket and gloves with grips on the palms, and then you head through to the bar. The room itself can fit 50 people and is available for hire for private functions. It’s full of intricately carved solid ice statues and furniture, including a chandelier, a fireplace, a carriage and numerous seats. Ever-changing coloured lights offset the sculptures beautifully.
Upon entering, you order a cocktail from the list of about 10 options (I got a Blue Gondola which contained lychee and was delish). The drink is served in a glass made entirely from ice, which you are instructed to hold with both hands at all times. Honestly, the novelty was almost overwhelming.
People tend to only stay for about 30 minutes, but the Irish barman told me that an NZDF soldier who was training for a mission once stayed in there for three hours, and that he himself did a nine-hour shift without a break on New Year’s Eve.
Below Zero often has GrabOne deals, so it’s definitely accessible to the financially challenged, and totally worth a visit. Indeed, I have every confidence that you could find a way to creatively incorporate it into a Queenstown-based red card.
Big Night Out Bar Crawl, begins at Altitude Bar, 49 Shotover St.
Whilst it is not something I would ever (ever!) have paid to go on myself, I tried to have an open mind about this bar crawl. The deal is: you pay $25, go to five bars for about 45 minutes each, and get a “free” shot on the door and 30% off subsequent drinks bought at the bar. Food is provided and there is a 10% on any subsequent food ordered, as well as 10% off Fat Badgers pizza. Book online at bignightout.net.nz, and pay on arrival.We began at Altitude, where, alarmingly, Saturday night was “Fluoro Night.” Trying to fight back visions of my first-year self dancing maniacally at The Break wearing attire similar to that of the bar staff, Altitude struck me as the kind of bar at which it would be fun to end up “ironically” at the end of the night when you no longer care about the respect of your fellow man (à la Monkey Bar), but starting the night there was just mildly depressing.
We milled about for an hour before traipsing to The Boiler Room, which was cosy, rustic and would have been a nice place to settle in for the night. Chico’s was similarly cosy but self-described by the Irish barman (they’re everywhere) as a “restaurant for old people that turns into a bar because it’s licensed till 3am.” Winnie’s is a pizza restaurant that has a few branches in Christchurch, but the Queenstown branch is by far the nicest I’ve been to and was vaguely reminiscent of pre-earthquake Mexican Café in Christchurch, with an attic/loft-ish-type feel and a bar lit by Technicolor fairy lights. The Skybar has a ceiling painted like, well, the sky; ambient pink lighting; and a balcony overlooking the central green. Buffalo’s was a spacious establishment with wooden panelling and floors, a big ol’ pool table and a hot tub by the entrance.
Apart from The Boiler Room, none struck me as somewhere I’d ever go again on purpose. Despite World Bar’s infamy, we didn’t check it out due to not-in-the-moodness resulting from overexposure. Also, having heard from a local source that Rape Crisis’s Queenstown branch gets at least one World Bar-related complaint every week, I didn’t feel like spending the rest of the night fending off sexual predators. There was already a line up both sets of stairs at 9:30, though, so apparently there were lots of people who did. Maybe next time.
The night went by in a blur and before I knew it I was back in the dorm, where I happily swapped my Kate Sylvester dress for PJ pants and my flatmates proceeded to enthusiastically join in an illegal drinking game with the Brits (at Base, you can only drink until 9pm and only in the kitchen, not in the dorm). I am not and have never been a bar crawl kinda gal, but the people in our group seemed to be having a whale of a time; and for only $25, it’s a great deal. It would be a fun idea for a birthday weekend away – shout your flatmate for their 21st – and a good way to work your way through some of Queenstown’s 150+ bars and restaurants.
Sunday
Ivy and Lola’s Kitchen and Bar, 88 Beach St.
The day dawned cold and rainy, and a thick fog lay across the basin in which Queenstown is situated. It was disappointing, because we had a booking at the Skyline Gondola and luge. The lack of visibility, combined with the fact that the world had morphed into a swimming pool, made us disinclined to go, so we went to Ivy and Lola’s for brunch instead.Ivy and Lola’s is rated #20 on TripAdvisor, and I was attracted to it by its name. When we arrived we were some of the only customers there, but by the time we left the place was filling up fast. The kitchen was open to the dining area, meaning we could see the chef preparing our meals, which was a nice touch.
I was impressed by the menu – it had all the usual breakfast suspects (my flatmates got eggs bene and pancakes), but also had things like “smoked fish with traditional bubble and squeak, poached eggs and hollandaise sauce,” as well as a big breakfast accompanied by a “virgin Mary shot.”
I got the three-egg omelette with spinach, pumpkin, mozzarella, pine nuts and, somewhat ingeniously, rhubarb chutney. At $15.50, it was cheaper than Vudu and just as delicious, not to mention being roughly 100 times the size. Just a stone’s throw away from the lakefront, Ivy and Lola’s was the perfect note on which to end the trip.
Epilogue
I drove back to Dunedin feeling like Steve Carrel at the end of The 40-Year-Old Virgin, having waited so long to experience that which many my age take for granted. Sufficiently deflowered, I had finally encountered Queenstown in much of its glory and look forward to returning in the future.To those remaining three or so students at Otago who haven’t been to Queenstown yet and who would have inevitably gone regardless of my having written this feature – lemme tell ya, you’re going to love it.
