Yes, I said I was going to Australia, but why would I go all that way and not stop off in New Zealand?
Auckland
Thirteen hours. No matter how nice the Premium Economy seats are (and they are pretty damn nice) it’s hard to sit in one for thirteen hours and not be totally trashed. We staggered into the hotel at 5 a.m. and begged them to get a room ready for us. Slept for a few hours and then took the bus into town for lunch.
Our peeps
First sign that we’re not in the US anymore: everyone thanks the bus driver when they get off. Everyone.
Wandered down to the harbor and had lunch in a restaurant called Botswana Butchery. Really. I ordered a Wagyu beef cheeseburger – the waiter assured us that Wagyu beef is the only thing Australians do right. (This sniping at Australia turns out to be a bit of a meme here.) I asked him to recommend a New Zealand wine.
Second sign we’re not in the US anymore: Maude Pinot Noir from the Central Otago region of the South Island. Wow. Just….WOW! Sam had told me to look out for Central Otago pinots, which are very hard to get outside New Zealand.
Back to the hotel and about twelve hours of sleep. Then we got up and headed over to the airport to fly to Queenstown.
Third sign we’re not in the US anymore: I got on the plane to Queenstown without ever having to show my ID to anyone, or take my shoes off.
Queenstown
This is not an especially pretty town but it is in a ridiculously beautiful place, and it’s not big enough to be a serious blight on the landscape. It appears to exist largely to service the tourist trade – meaning us – so that worked out great.
The next day we were off on the 4 ½ hour drive to Milford Sound. Next installment….