Queenstown Hotels
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Adrenacity
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Well what can be said about Queenstown that hasn't already been said? Most people know the basics - beautiful, fun, adrenaline-filled, boozy, touristy. All in all, a fantastic change from the isolation of the West Coast.
I loved the town from start to finish, and was looking forward to splashing out on a bungy jump, a skydive and a jet boat ride (courtesy of the folks at Deloitte). Once there I made my way to the much recommended 'Southern Laughter Lodge' which would turn out to be my home for 2 weeks, broken up with a couple of days in Dunedin and Te Anau.
On arrival I had a couple of days to chill out, while partying hard in the evenings with my roommates Cosmo and Claudio, and meeting loads of other great people in this inordinately friendly town. Then on Wednesday, it was time to jump out of a plane.
Luckily, I've never got nervous leading up to anything of importance. I've always believed that you never know what is going to happen until you do it, and it's when you're doing/just about to do it that you can start shitting yourself. Thankfully that point doesn't come until you are sitting in a plane 12,000ft in the air with your feet dangling out the door and your body strapped to some bloke telling you to bend your head back as far as it will go - you don't really have much choice in the matter. Just as you start to think "What the *!#% am I doing" you're sucked out of the plane, tumbling head-over-heels and screaming every profanity that comes to mind which, incidentally, is only 1 since the rest of your mind is trying to contemplate what is actually happening.
Then you start screaming.
"YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!WHOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!YYYEEEEEEEEEHHHHAAAAAA!!! THISISTHEBESTBLOODYTHINGI'VEEVERDONEINMYLIFE!!!THISISUNBELEIVEABLEOHMYGODWHATTHEFUCKISGOINGONICAN'TBELIEVEWHATI'MDOING!!!!!!!!" before admitting quite profusely that you in fact, have now fallen in love with your instructor and are dutifully telling him so while still freefalling through the air at 130MPH with the biggest grin that is humanly possible and adrenaline coursing through your veins. And then the parachute opens....
...silence...
It's suddenly as if the whole world has stopped and you're the only person still floating through what's left of it. Nothing else matters. The earth is miles below and you're flying through the air, gently gliding towards the ground with the whole Queenstown area in immediate view. A blue sky with not a cloud in sight, snow-capped mountains streaked with underlying rock, fields flecked with brown and white, steam powered boats gliding slowly across bright blue lakes, lush green hills dotted with expensive mansions... This place is something else. It's a utopia of uncompromising beauty you could never even hope to see anywhere in the UK.
You touch down, shake the hands of those that jumped with you, and smile all the way back to the hostel not sure if what you just did was real or not.
After all that excitement it was time for a quiet evening in with the free daily soup, a couple of films, some great company, and an early night so I'd be fresh and ready to do the bungy tomorrow. I got on the bus at 10:30am and rode all the way out there only to look at the gondolier swinging in the raging wind and be told that it wasn't gonna happen today. Can't say I was too disappointed - the thing looked like it was about to swing right off the cables into the abyss below.
We made our way back to the depot and I rearranged the jump for Saturday morning.
Friday was jet boat day, comprising a trip to the Shotover River and a pretty exhilarating run up and down it. You get into this boat, and are shortly bombing it down the river trying desperately to see anything as the wind smashes into your face at about 200mph and a ridiculous amount of water pours out of your tear ducts threatening to drain you dry. The driver bounces over the water heading maliciously towards every rock, turning sharply at the last minute before doing a 360 degree spin and emptying the river onto your head. Every now and again he'll stop and give a bit of history about the river - emphasising how cool he is by explaining how he's not interested at all, it's just part of his job - before once again abusing the boat in every shape and form. After that craziness it was back to the hostel again, and then out that evening for drinks and dancing with Farley & Ems (who had just come back up from Te Anau), Claudio, Cosmo and Tracy.
In the morning, after what could possibly be regarded as the most ridiculously scary bus journey up the steepest gravel road in the world, we arrived at the shack for the second time this week and were promptly informed that we would indeed be jumping today. Awesome. We were harnessed up and taken to the lookout point where we were then carted out to the gondolier in a little carriage a few at a time, ready to do the jump. The carriage ride was a bit of an eye-opener - an initially delightful trundle over a sheer cliff (whose appearance was greeted with a chorus of "shit what are we doing"s), before a huge gust of wind swung the whole thing all over the place and destroyed whatever euphoria was left after we got in the thing.
Once in the gondolier however, I felt safe again. Even watching everyone jumping and screaming didn't make me nervous, and again it wasn't until I was actually standing on the ledge with the bungy strapped to me that I began to shit myself. This thing is 440ft high. For you people back home, that's 36ft higher than the Salisbury Cathedral spire. It's bloody high. Despite the fact you know you are attached to a very secure bungee, it just feels like you are going to leap to your death. There is no real way to describe the feeling. One part of you is saying "Don't you bloody jump off this ledge or I'll bloody disown you", the other one's saying "Go on you'll love it, it'll be wicked". In the end you cannot make the decision rationally. You just have to switch everything off and wait until the countdown gets to 1 then throw yourself ruthlessly off the platform with the best dive you can manage.
All the blood rushes to your head. You're unable to scream. The sheer shock of jumping off a ledge to what seems like certain death is just too much for your brain to handle and it just overloads. Before you know it you're at the bottom of the jump, the bungy strains, and then you realise you're ok. What's more, you've just regained your ability to use your vocal chords. So you use them. A lot. At the top of your second bounce you pull a chord and then you're sitting in a comfortable upright position, suspended above the gorge waiting for the pulley to winch you back up to safety. The smile on your face is irremovable, the adrenaline is rushing through you at a stupid rate, and you suddenly want a beer. Or five. Or maybe some whiskey. You don't like whiskey? Doesn't matter. You want it.
So, after my foray into some of the most extreme sports in the world I can safely say that I would love to take up skydiving as a hobby. I'm glad I did a bungy jump, but I'd be quite happy not to do it again. Ever. Mind you if a bunch of people were going on a trip I would have to go with them and show them what a pro I am. The mental contradiction lasts long after you've done it, it seems. If you ever go to New Zealand, and if only go to one place, make it Queenstown. Please, you owe it to yourself.
Latest Comments (2)
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dfdf (reply)
Nov 23, 2006 18:04 EST by bobsonthegreat
Nah I thought I couldn't afford it at the time, but I really should have splashed out. Got a video of the bungy jump though. Mental.
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tithihgh (reply)
Nov 23, 2006 04:54 EST by chazzbo
Did you buy a dvd of your 'flight'? don't think I could jump out of a plane - I get shaky just going up a ladder! Well done m'laddy...
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16 votes 
This is a top pick!
