Legend has it that the mountain range on Queenstown's easterly horizon was originally called 'Remarkable' for the geologically unusual fact that it runs due north-south and so, in bygone days, could always be relied upon as a navigational aid. I prefer to imagine an old timer, his calloused hands kneading the small of his back after laborious hours in his gold claim exclaiming to his buddy at sunset just as I did, "They're just remarkable! They look like a painting!"
But painted or not, it's undeniable that Queenstown and its environs are pretty remarkable places. Despite being a tourist mecca par excellence, it only takes a few steps outside the town centre and the visitor is once again brought to realise that nothing, bar nothing, can detract from the jaw dropping splendour of the natural surroundings. Sure, there might be a cool cafe to breakfast in, Vudu springs immediately to mind, or the best place north of the South Pole to find a hamburger, Ferg's on Shotover St, but for me, a visit to New Zealand's very own Switzerland of the south would not be worth making without time for an amble in the crisp mountain air. No humidity to make my wayward hair curl, no traffic fumes and bad temper, just crisp sunshine bouncing off Lake Wakatipu, so ridiculously clear that even where the ducks swim it looks like a TV commercial for New Zealand's clean green image.
To make the most of my time after a work trip south I set off by water taxi from Skippers Wharf, buzzing and energised after my scrumptious coffee at Vudu, and met with my local friend Trudy at the wharf below the Hilton on the far side of the lake. Apart from the fact I'd had to wait until the first service at noon, this lake crossing is an excursion all of its own. If I lived in Kelvin Heights and needed to commute to Queenstown proper I know how I'd be doing it. What a treat.
