Armed with a painted pizza box that said Queenstown, our friend dropped us off right by the airport to begin our hitch-hiking wait. Twas the first time either of us had ever hitched [or even thought about considering it]. Within minutes, a great 40something year old man in a landscaping truck pulled up and told us he was off to Cromwell, which would take us about 80% of the way. He was driving this borrowed truck, behind his wife and 3 young kids, to retrieve heaps of stuff he's had in storage for the past 12 years while they were living in the UAE and [somewhere else, I forget]. We all sat in the front-- that three seater truck thang. The whole ride he told us about his travels around the world, and even imparted on us some of his crazy hitching stories and his trek across America. Apparently the peak of weird was when he was in Germany hitching with some guy who he SWORE was about to grab his crotch. how uncomfortable. As we passed through Roxburgh he spoke of the delicious pacific rose apples, which neither of us had tasted. After much insisting, we stopped at a fruit stand where he bought us fuji apples... and then at another one down the road where we finally got the elusive pacific rose. delish. We had to stop briefly in Alexandra for him to get something at the warehouse. [so, he said the warehouse, and I thought 'home depot.' as we entered Alexandra I saw a sign that said, literally, 'The Warehouse.' oddly specific. apparently that's the wal-mart equivalent here.]We were left on a dark Cromwell street, worried and confused, but after about 6 cars passed, three Australian dudes scooped us and we were off. They were more lost in their own conversation, making fun of the driver for driving so slowly, and pulling a lot of 'are we there yet?s.' Regardless, I was fascinated with the window and all the stars. [THERE ARE STARS HERE.] They asked where to drop us off and we just looked at each other blankly. We picked a corner where there seemed to be a hostel, and hello Queenstown. The first hostel we went into was booked for the night, but right across the street we were set.
As we entered our room for 4 we were welcomed by a real cool hippy chick from New Jersey who had spent last semester in Melbourne and was now traveling around on her own before heading home. She was the only American we met all weekend, and made a great member for our travels. For dinner we tried to go to Fergburger, but with a 45 minute wait we decided to go next door to the Fergbaker for meat pies. Post-pie we went to the bar across from our hostel, Altitude, to meet up for a Pub Crawl. We drank there a bit, but it was a little too fratty, and watched a vibrator race [4 vibrators buzzing down a wood ramp for a prize]. Next was ice bar, which was a bit of a let down after the really cool one in London. The rest of the evening was also tickled by random bar excursions, where we were welcomed with shots that ranged from this-is-definitely-just-cranberry-juice to holy-sambuca. A bit of the way in Kevin went home, but by then I had already clinged onto a group of dance-crazy Australians. From pantomimes to dance moves, all was a success. We hit many bars, and the one with live music [don't even ask me what it's called] was probably my favorite. Table dancing and what not to say the least. At one point I headed to the bathroom, and whilst waiting was asked by someone also in line if I had a nose-ring. Duh... He then invited me into the bathroom with him, but I politely denied. The next hilarious encounter of the evening involved a random guy, who I had not seen prior to this moment, walking up to me and reciting his phone number, followed by a "but don't call me until you're in brisbane. that's my brisbane number." We chatted briefly, but by this now 3am, I called it a night.
Saturday morning meant finishing the last apple I was supplied with, checking out of the hostel, and finding a new place to stay [but not before finally briefly chatting with the 4th member of our room, a british guy]. We moved across the street from the YHA to the Base. It seemed way more crowded and way more of a party at base, so I couldn't complain. The day was largely spent just walking around and enjoying the town. With gray skies, a lot of my pictures look dreary, but It was quite good. I bought goofy socks with kiwis on them, that [thankfully] have those rubber bottoms to prevent slipping. Lunch was a fergburger, and my god, it was massive. I went with the original fergburger with blue cheese and we got fries as well with wasabi mayo dipping sauce. We trekked around the massive lake quite a bit and into the queenstown gardens.
My food coma was enhanced when we went to Patagonia which is a really 
We went to meet up with our roommate of last night and a girl from Liverpool that she had just met. The four of us went to Cowboys bar which was mean. This is a must if you're in Queenstown. We started with pints, but then noticed some men drinking massive steins of beer. Of course, this $10 treat was the next move. Once well swallowed, we moved out of our cozy spot by the fire place and to the World Bar, but not before getting playfully attacked by our new british friend about the flaws of the imperial system. When we said that we measured things in 'cups' she was outraged, pointing out that every cup is a different size! Kevin retorted with, "In America, all cups are the same size. Equal opportunity." World Bar welcomed us with live indie music and teapots : loved it. Happy hour wasn't for another 50 minutes so we put the 'be right back' on world bar and went back to Altitude, where we now had hella coupons. I split a pizza with the new Liverpool lady-- chicken, cranberries, brie, and mozzerella. beauty. We were sitting in a weird curtained area with a bunch of overly-intoxicated late-20-year-old men who were both discomforting and funny, but took the liberty of moving.
Back at the world bar we got the teapots we were waiting for which are essentially cocktails in a teapot that you would take shots of. I got a straw and just drank out of it. They were all incredibly sweet and delicious-- no bad flavor possible. Dancing ensued, and may people were spoken to. At one point, the very unhygienic decision of polishing off the many half-full teapots left on a table was made. I managed to leave and re enter that bar quite a few times, leaving me with many 'THE WORLD BAR' stamps on my hand by morning.I was on my out, and kept getting stopped by crazy people who wanted to talk, but all was in good fun. On my way home I decided it would be worthwhile to stop for a burrito. While waiting in line, a 30-something year old guy also went to buy food, but ordered a cheese toastie. As the server and I both laughed at him not realizing it was a burrito place, he was quite confused and I just told the guy to give him what I was having. While waiting, he managed to convince me that I should go to the strip club with him for his friend's bachelor party. Somehow, I decided it would be a good idea, and we raced through about 3 bites of our burritos before throwing them out and running across the street. As I handed the bouncer my ID he said that you had to be at least 20 to get in. Awkward. Probably the best misfortune of the night, and home I went. My new bedroom was for 6 people, and I hadn't met anyone before going out. Two mattresses were missing though [the one on top of me, and the one on top of kevin]. Apparently two chicks wanted to sleep next door, and I couldn't have been happier.
Come morning, Kevin and I checked out and went for breakfast at this place called Bob's Weigh Cafe. I got a panini, and he got pancakes. Overall, great last meal of Queenstown. It was 11 am and time to figure out how the fuck we're getting home. Armed with a DUNEDIN sign that we made the day before, we stood out for a while, with no success. The second we put it away, and held up our thumbs proudly, heaps of cars were stopping. No one seemed to be going far enough for our liking, but we soon decided that it would be worth it to just go, even if the next stop was only 20 minutes away. Our first pick up was a man and his young son, Oscar. They were really sweet and were heading to the junk yard to drop off some garbage and then pick up one of Oscar's friends. Oscar was really excited to tell us about various outdoor activities in Queenstown that we should do the next time we go.Dropped in Frankton, the waiting game started again. A range rover snagged us, with a young married couple, who were heading to Cromwell, and then would be going off-roading towards Invercargill. They were really cool as well and insisted we stop to look at places where people used to mine for gold on a hill. We walked around briefly and took some pictures and then were off.
At Cromwell we were picked up by a early 20s guy who was heading to Alexandra for a car rescue simulation. There was going to be a massive show with actors to talk about emergency situations and how to deal with them. His car smelled really weird and I was incredibly nauseous by the time we were dropped off, but it was really cool to hear about his activities. He had been paid to take landscape photos around new zealand a while ago for a stock image company, and was now trying to learn Mandarin. He targeted Kevin slyly to see if he spoke Chinese, and was disappointed to see that he didn't have someone to practice with in the car.
Frustration set in slightly in Alexandra as everyone was either going to Invercargill [and would leave us at a random junction] or Roxburgh. After a few went by, we gave in and headed towards Roxburgh with an alternative-looking chick [we figured it'd be worth stopping there to get apples anyhow]. She was really cool and had an affinity towards birds. She took us to look at the Roxburgh dam before dropping us off, to make sure we got a good look at the crazy infrastructure of it.
After picking up a bunch of apples and 2 milo bars [holy shit delicious candy bar] we were back on the road waiting, hoping. The traffic was really slow and we were worried as a few drops of rain fell on to us. Ride 5, the final leg of the journey, showed up-- they were going straight to Dunedin. Another couple, both of whom were affiliated with Otago [he's a geography professor and she's doing some further education] scooped us. She was from Wales, and he from London, and after admitting she's shit at accents, asked where we were from. We talked the entire ride back [a little under 2 hours] about everything from healthcare to history to thins in new zealand and supermarkets. She was way more the chatty one than he was, but it made sense seeing as she grew up with a hitchhiker culture seeming to be more acceptable than he did. They told us that in the UK, students didn't learn anything about the American Revolution aside from the fact that 'some naughty americans decided to separate.' We both found that really interesting how history books are selectively leaving out information. They were two really great people who brought us back to where we needed to go.
The trip home was definitely much longer than it had to be [arriving at 5pm] but my view on hitch hiking has been solidified as incredibly positive. Longer yes, but all the more enjoyable.
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