The Money Shot

I now know what clothes feel like in a drying machine. We just got off the slopes in The Remarkables, and my first day of skiing ever in my life is now behind me. I’m both exhausted and on cloud nine.

Monday morning we took a quick tramp around Lake Tekapo, and took a few minutes to write some messages in the sand. It was so sweet. We then hit the road for Queenstown, making a few random stops along the way. We fed salmon and bought lox at the Mt. Cook Salmon Farm; took scenic photos of Mt. Cook, the highest peak in the southern hemisphere; tasted some cider at a cidery; attempted to go to a sheep shearing show (Attention citizens of Omarama: sheep shearing show is overpriced at $20); and finally, for the first time since Thursday, stopped and did some wine tastings. We are up to 16 wineries, and feeling pretty confident we’ll make it to 20 before I leave.

At one of those wineries, Waitiri Creek, we had a possibly life altering experience. As we approached the church turned tasting room, we were greeted by a woman gardening, and heard the distinct sounds of an American accent (which is always somewhat comforting). Our taste guide, Kim, moved to NZed five years ago from Washington D.C. (!!) with her husband who is originally from Rochester, NY (!!) because they got tired of the rat race and wanted to make a change (!!). We had such a lovely chat with her about the transition (they now run a B&B…I mean, come on) that we didn’t even use the elaborate story we created to explain why we were out tasting (see below). They also happened to have a truly amazing Chardonnay. Her whole story just kept me shaking my head all afternoon.

Another thing that had me shaking my head was our lodging in Queenstown. Truly decrepit. We’ve had no complaints about any of the places we’ve stayed thus far, and ironically, this is the first time we’re staying more than one night in a place (that’s kind of crazy to say and think). Not long after check-in, an English bulldog wandered into our room, followed closely by a hot Australian guy, who said his buddy runs the place (errr…). We asked where we should go out and he suggested we meet up for a drink at a bar called Buffalo Club ($2 Jaeger shots and bombs…).

We finally had a successful foray for sushi, and it was really delicious. Well worth the wait. Our next stop was a place called Barmuda, which is notable only because it has an ENORMOUS fire place in the courtyard. If you’ve ever been camping with Liza you know that woman can’t keep her hands out of the fire, especially after a glass or two of wine. Every 5 minutes she was up poking logs, shifting stuff around, adding more wood. Classic.

When we arrived at Buffalo Club, our Australian was nowhere to be seen. We had one last beer, and then decided it was prudent to head home to bed early since we had an early curtain call for hitting the slopes.

About an hour (maybe more) of sleepy time, someone pounds on the door and yells “GIRRRRRRRRRLS!!!” I get up, and guess who’s there? The Australian. “Where were you” he asks in a sinister voice. After assuring him we were there for an hour (prob an exaggeration) he says, “do you want to have some snuggles?” I said, “ummm…probably not tonite, we have to get up pretty early.” He responds “Not tonite means never. Okay, high five.”

As I shut the door, Liza says “I wish I could have recorded that conversation.”

Anyways, as mentioned, we were up bright and early, had some scrambled eggs with lox, and then headed into town to rent gear. Our original plan had been to go up to Treble Cone, because we had a free lift pass from our car rental agency, but were quickly talked into hitting the Remarks since they are much closer, and much less intense for first timers.

With my gear and clothes rental I received free admission to the Liza Ski Academy: Where Glamour meets Adventure. Having grown up skiing she took me under her wing and taught me the ins and outs of snow plowing (that’s what she said?), getting low (that’s what she said?) and getting wide (that’s what she said?). We made a good student/teacher team, as she remained patient and I remained unflustered. I have to say, I was pretty good for a first timer. Only a couple falls, and was able to ski my way out of many potential falls. Again, as we ate our delicious salami & brie sandwiches while staring out across the mountains on the most crystal clear blue sky day we’ve had since I arrived in NZed, we pondered how life became so good.

Misc crap –

-Obviously, we can’t be buying bottles of wine at 20 wineries. Who am I, Rockefeller!? There is always a bit of anxiety making our exit without buying anything, especially when we are the only two people (as we were yesterday). Solution: make up a fake elaborate story. For example, you could say that Liza is engaged to a Kiwi she met in Europe and has traveled about the world with. She took a research grant in Wellington to be closer to her sweetie in Auckland, and he proposed to her at a vineyard in Hawkes Bay. They are getting married in March and I, her maid of honor, have come to NZed to do a wine tour with her to help pick wines for the ceremony, which will take place at his family’s farm in Whangaroa Harbor. Just as an example.

-Today’s other most interesting car discussion: dying young. Will just leave that and move on.

-If you’re wondering what is included with admission to the Liza Ski Academy: Where Glamour meets Adventure, in addition to instruction you receive snacks, a flat white, and a celebratory beer. The farts are free (side note: Liza is really uncomfortable with me talking about her farts so much, which only encourages me).

-We keep getting asked how we know each other, and the whole "we met through a mutual friend who is also a giant whore" story has gotten old. So instead we plan to start telling people we met in a hip-hop dance class where we were at rivals at first, because we were the two best in the class, but then bonded over our desire to bring dancing to the streets. People will totally believe us...especially when they see our moves.

Spa time.