Travel Blog 4; Queenstown, Don’t Believe the Hype

Well here we are; hell has frozen over, lightning has struck twice and Babe Pig in the City was recently seen soaring over the M25 at an altitude of 13,000 feet. Its been less than a month and your friendly neighbourhood Bozz is back on the blog…God help you all, you poor b*stards.

Truth be told and for the first time on this little adventure of mine I have come to a bit of a crossroads and am fairly undecided on my next move. I’m going to say something next that may surprise, shock, disappoint and more than likely spark some disagreement from some readers, if anybody actually is reading at this point (you really are soldiers by the way and I really do appreciate it!) but here we go; Queenstown is overrated. Considerably overrated in fact in the opinion of this writer. Now please don’t misconstrue my words here, Queenstown isn’t bad, its bloody good in fact when it wants to be. Its aesthetically one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, the nightlife is superb, its still pretty sunny despite what you might imagine and the number of things to do is impressive. However, like phone contracts, all-you-can-eat Indian buffets and being a Man Utd fan what seems so initially attractive does come with a few pitfalls that I feel it only right to address.

Firstly and as you’ve probably already guessed Queenstown is ludicrously expensive. I’ve spent more in the last 16 days of being here than I have in the rest of the South Island combined. Even simple things like groceries, accommodation and other stuff that you need in your life to keep it being just that are hiked at least 20-30% higher than the, frankly quite unreasonable, level that they sit at in the rest of the country. This is before factoring in all the fore-mentioned fun s*it that any one of the 17,842 versions of the I-Site are on-hand to shove down your throat on every corner and convince you that they offer ‘The Cheapest Price Around’.

Secondly; Queenstown is rammed! Even now in the Autumn season the people are so packed in that if you look closely at the sides of its borders from an aerial view (for no less than $300 a pop though mind-you!) you’ll probably see them expanding. Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating somewhat but NZ isn’t exactly mentioned in the same sentence as China when it comes to the subject of crowding so it surprised me a little and its very small to boot. This also makes landing long term accommodation difficult; getting into a hostel on the weekend is about as easy as getting into North Korea…ever. The interrogation process prior to getting your dorm key is probably quite similar as well due to the fact that the Kiwi Experience company drop a bus load of rowdy Brits off in the town approximately every 26 minutes meaning that long termers are generally unwelcome. Leaving us to play musical beds with each other bouncing around hostels like ping-pong balls.

Speaking of those rowdy Brits; f*ck me they are everywhere! Most Brits, with the exception of people like me, are generally great but variety is, as they say, the spice of life. One of the great things about Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch etc was the variety of nationalities that I got to meet; everywhere from Abu Dhabi to Abertillery was covered for, round these parts its hard to get out of Surrey!

Couple the above with how hard it is to get work, what a bunch of unscrupulous p*icks the folks running the work agencies are and the way that people are so in-and-out of the place generally that forming friendship groups is like forming sentences after 9 pints, a joint and a round of the Cinnamon Challenge and there are clearly some things that you can’t read about in the pamphlets.

So I’ve given myself an ultimatum; I have a week and a bit to find a job, or another way of making legit d’oh or I’m shooting off and heading somewhere else. I’m applying left right and centre and have tried convincing people I’m qualified to be everything from a Restaurant Manager to a Ski Slope Gondola Operator; didn’t get an interview for either as it goes.

All I know for certain is I’m not leaving ‘The Devils Favourite Playground’ (a term coined by me and my two favourite German chums on a count of how easy it is to blow money and how good the people in the industries are at convincing you to do so!) without jumping off something, with a strap attached to me of course but apart from that its all a bit cloudy.

In other news; this is the first time I’ve been anything even approaching sober in two weeks, Fergburgers are awesome, London Bar Pizza’s are even better, my least favourite part of travelling is saying goodbye to friends, after years out of the game I’m now an even worse rapper than I was before, I really need a haircut, I think my Dyspraxic symptoms may be getting worse, I have an eye infection that the doctor thinks I got from dust on a building site I was doing some casual labouring on and I comma splice too much.

I’m Tha Bozz and that’s my opinion.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s