Queenstown Adventure Haven

They call it the Mecca of Adventure. After some heart-stopping experiences and nearly dying of fright, a thoroughly shaken and stirred Gustasp & Jeroo Irani agree...

Pics Courtesy: NZ Tourism Board

Draped along the shores of a sparkling blue lake and surrounded by snow-capped mountains, Queenstown in New Zealand is constantly inventing ways of frightening visitors out of their minds. Indeed, it was here that the world was first introduced to bungee jumping. But we were not going to pay good money to be thrown off cliffs and bridges with just a rubber band tied to our ankles. So we went jet-boating instead…and almost died of fright.

We set out on what looked like an innocent ride in a sleek motorboat on Dart River on the outskirts of the town but it changed dramatically when Greg at the controls of the craft, gunned it straight at an enormous rock in the water only to veer off at the very last moment. Before we had time to recover from the wave of shock and panic, we were headed straight for another outcrop in the river. Greg, we were convinced, was a crazed man intent on playing chicken with every obstacle on the river. So we hung on tight and screamed in mirthful panic when the boat spun around in a 360-degree circle.

At the end of the high voltage boat ride we were deposited on the banks of the river from where we set out on a trek into the heart of dense rainforest. This was pure Lord of the Rings country: a haunting landscape that we would revisit in our dreams over the next few days.

Back in Queenstown we were spoiled for choice when it came to deciding what next to do: white water rafting, skiing down the snowfields of the neighbouring Coronet Peak, water skiing, golf (the greens are rated as one of the seven prettiest in the world) paragliding, parasailing, horse riding, trekking, helicopter flights over snow capped mountains, glacier landings, panning for gold… Little wonder then that this all-season resort is often referred to as the Mecca of adventure!

For a change of pace we settled for more passive options and strolled down the waterfront lined with pines and weeping willows and nosed around narrow little streets frilled with cherry blossom trees and quaint little boutiques. Later we took a cable car/gondola to a plush glass-panelled restaurant and shopping complex high up in the mountains and looked down at the picturesque waterfront settlement.

The following day we set off on a wine tasting tour that involved a lot of swirling, sniffing, sipping and the occasional spitting of the nectar of the grape. It was a spirited adventure that took us deep into the cellars of the picturesque wineries that dot the surrounding region. At first terms like bouquet, moose and references to subtle oak and fruity flavours, young and aged wines fazed us. But after a few sparkling, white and red wines had rolled past our palate we were throwing them around like seasoned connoisseurs. The heady swirl through the region included a stop at Arrowtown; once a rowdy gold mining settlement and now a peaceful little town dotted with buildings that might have been plucked out of the sets of a Wild West movie.

On our drive back to Queenstown we made two brief stops: one at Kawarau river where brave men and women bungee-jumped off a bridge and the other at a little farmhouse where they sold bouquets of colourful dried flowers. Indeed, Queenstown can be a rough and tumble boy and a pretty little girl at the same time.

Just as the last rays of the sun kissed the snow peaks of the Remarkables range of mountains with gilded lipstick, we boarded Earnslaw, the oldest commercially operating steamship in the world. As we cruised across crinkle-glass waters, we raised champagne toast to the changing of the guard in the sky above: from the sun to the moon and stars.

Pic: Gustasp Irani

At the far end of the lake we tucked into an elaborate buffet dinner that had been laid out in a moody waterfront homestead and explored the adjoining farmhouse where a sheepdog put a flock through the paces and a ruddy-faced Kiwi farmer put in a delightful fleece shearing demonstration. Back on the boat, Betty at the keyboard led a happy and rollicking sing-along. In the distance Queenstown twinkled in the velvet night like a brilliant diamond pendant.

No trip to Queenstown is complete without a visit to the majestic fjords of Milford Sound that scar the south west edge of the country. We decided to do it a little differently and instead of taking the more popular cruise we opted to go canoeing down corridors of water hemmed in by towering mountains. Our yellow kayaks sliced through towering snow-tipped mountains draped in dense rain forests. The sound of our paddles slicing through the water mingled with the song of the forest: the rustle of leaves, the chirping of birds, the gurgle of streams, the laughter of waterfalls… we had stumbled upon what was virtually an altar of creation.

We paddled past islands where cuddly little fairy penguins in butler-like waistcoats frowned at us from under bushy yellow eyebrows and rocky outcrops littered with fur seals soaking in the sun. Towards the end of our close encounter of the spectacular kind we said hello to a nervous blue penguin, the smallest of the species, bobbing in the water. Just as we started to paddle home nature threw in a grand finale with a sweep of rainbow arching across the waterway.