Te Araroa: Queenstown

06.03.2020 Day 130 (25km)

There are some days when the struggle is real. I didn’t have any reason to be upset today, but all I wanted to do was cry. It’s rare that I truly feel homesick, but today was one of those mornings. I tried calling my mum, but she didn’t answer. So then I plugged into my music and made a futile attempt to swallow the lump in my throat as tears slipped down my cheeks.

My heart ached for the smell of fresh coffee; there is always a pot on. It longed for the hug of the couch as I leaned into the armrest, and the deep sighs at the end of the day as I sank into my bed. I wanted to snuggle with mum and watch a classic film, then attack the dog and cat with love. 

It was a day where feelings were unavoidable, demanding to be seen like a jolting advertisement interrupting a good movie. 

Eventually, I got a hold of mum and we chatted till I hit a patch of poor reception. With lifted spirits, I cruised onward, blasting my music through my earbuds. My pace was swift on the easy terrain. “I’ll be in Queenstown in no time,” I told myself optimistically. 

Upon reaching a paved roundabout with no markers, I decided to check my progress and direction on Guthook, my trail app. The path from Arrowtown had meandered through ritzy golf courses and high-end neighborhoods, until it joined with a cycle path. Faithfully, I had followed the cycling signs indicating “Queenstown.” 

The slight emotional stability I had gained on the phone with mum vanished when I discovered I had missed a vital turn and strayed 3km in the wrong direction. Yes, the cycle path led to Queenstown, but the TA didn’t follow the cycle track. Being the stubborn human that I am, I turned around and walked back the way I had come, to rejoin the TA. 

Normally, 3km was nothing substantial; however, my foot had been killing me since it had defrosted the previous day. I suspected it had been injured during the riverwalk, when it was completely numb with cold. 

About an hour later I ran into two other hikers I knew from a few days prior. Conversation coupled with Ibuprofen helped distract me from both the emotional and physical pain. However, by the time I arrived in Frankton, I was over it and decided to hitch past the industrial section of the trail and into Queenstown. 

Day’s Highlights: Talking to mum (she’ll probably tear up when she reads that, but that’s why I love her.)  

07.03.2020 Day 131 (0km)

I think living at a long term hostel in Melbourne changed my perspective on what a hostel should be like. So when one of the girls in my room came in five or six times throughout the night, banging the door, and turning on all the lights, I found it quite annoying. When she came back at 6am and woke up one of the other girls to inform her that she had “been fucking all over the place, even the stairwell,” my patience was pretty spent. But then when she brought the guy into the room and proceeded to fool around for the next twenty minutes. I was ready to bitch her out. 

I took my time to loudly pack at 9am, making sure all the lights were on, while she tried to sleep. Sometimes I wish I was ruder, that I had the nerve to say something that would set her face afire with embarrassment. Instead, I picked up my things, turned out the light, and left. 

The remainder of the day was filled with errands and catching up with friends. 

I was staying another two nights in Queenstown, but at a different hostel. Since it was a weekend, they were hosting a pub crawl. After getting to know a few of my roommates, I decided to crash the event. I didn’t want the free shots or discounts on hard alcohol, but I would go and hang out, having a drink or two throughout the night. 

Overall, it was a fun night, but when everyone decided to leave the dance floor and start hitting shots hard, I took that as my cue to depart. On my way back to the hostel I stopped to order a world famous Fergburger. I’m going to be honest…I wasn’t super impressed. It was a decent burger but I had better in Arrowtown. 

Before climbing into bed I had a strange impulse to make certain all of my possessions were secure in either the storage locker below my bed or in my pack. 

Day’s Highlights: Lovely chats and coffee with Maeve and Quinn

08.03.2020 Day 132 (0km)

Everyone came back from the pub crawl quite late. One lad, James, had to be helped into bed by the others, then proceeded to snore loudly for most of the night. It was what it was, at least I would be able to sleep in…or so I thought. 

Around 6:30am my hiker body clock woke me up. James was stirring in his bed and after a couple minutes he stood up and walked over to the door that led to the balcony. At first I thought he had gone outside, when the sound of running water broke the silence of the room. I glanced over to see what was happening and immediately shouted, “Oh my God, James! That’s not the toilet!” The drunk fool was urinating on the floor of the hostel room, splashing people’s belongings, including mine, with his piss. 

Once I had steered him to the toilets, I took out my phone light to assess the damages. He hadn’t directly hit anything, but there were little wet droplets on my pack. I was definitely going to ask reception for cleaning supplies to disinfect everything. One of the other girls hadn’t been as fortunate, one of her packing cubes had been right in the thick of the splash zone. 

Later when I went to reception, they were extremely kind, providing me with all the cleaning supplies I required, and offering to do a free wash for both myself and the other girl. 

Fortunately, I had followed that instinct the night before and put everything away, so only my pack itself had been affected. 

James, who had seemed like an alright person prior to becoming piss-drunk, turned out to be a huge jerk. First, he attempted to lie to the hostel to get out of having to pay the standard cleaning fee. He didn’t even bother apologizing to me and attempted to deny having hit any of the other girl’s belongings. His argument was that all her stuff felt dry…four hours after the incident. Then he hung around in the common areas of the hostel all day long (he wasn’t staying another night) and continued to drown himself in alcohol. 

The hostel finally kicked him out around 5pm when they discovered none of the alcohol he was drinking actually belonged to him. He was stealing it out of the fridges from the other guests. In fact, he was so intoxicated that he accidentally stole someone’s kombucha, mistaking it for a bottle of beer. He attempted to re-enter the hostel later that evening, was removed again, and staff were forced to implement additional security precautions to keep him out. 

Other than dealing with James, I had a relaxing day updating my blog, playing cards, strumming a guitar, and making some delicious home cooked meals.

Day’s Highlights: Got switched to an all girls dorm, with no pee on the floor and an ensuite bathroom