Pete & Lori's Retirement adventures

We left New York on a Monday and landed in Queenstown on a Wednesday, having skipped Tuesday entirely somewhere over the Pacific. Eighteen hours of flying, a quick layover in Auckland, and a short hop to the South Island — and somehow we arrived feeling almost human, having slept eight solid hours on the long flight. We picked up our car and headed straight to The Boat Shed for lunch alongside Lake Wakatipu, where the water was impossibly blue and the sun was warm on our faces. After weeks of snow back home in the Berkshires, the bright flowers lining the paths felt like a small miracle.

That afternoon we walked two hours into Queenstown along the lake, high on the ridge with the valley and the Remarkables spread out below us. We found our way to Percy’s floating dock, soaked up the social buzz with a drink in hand, and then did what every traveler is apparently required to do — queued up at Fergburger and ate something magnificent at the counter, surrounded by fellow tourists who had read exactly the same blogs we had. It was Lunar New Year, and Queenstown was buzzing with visitors from China filling every hotel and every line. We were very glad to have booked our car and accommodations months in advance. We slept nine hours that night and woke up feeling like ourselves again.

The drive to Glenorchy the next morning is only thirty miles, but we took all day. Every overlook demanded a stop, every short trail to a viewpoint was worth it, and a three hour hike down to Bob’s Cove made it a full day before we even arrived. Glenorchy itself is a tiny, wonderful place — we browsed Mrs. Woolly’s General Store, discovered the Glenorchy Real Fruit ice cream truck where everything is made to order with real frozen fruit and heavy cream, and stumbled into Frank’s next door, a small shop carrying beautiful things made entirely in New Zealand. The possum, wool and silk blend socks alone were worth the detour.

Our base for three nights was Kinloch Wilderness Resort, a half hour further down the road and very much in the middle of nowhere — in the best possible way. We arrived in time for happy hour on the terrace, cooked dinner in the shared kitchen alongside a couple from Scotland, and fell into conversation the way you only do when everyone around you is a traveler. The room was cozy, the shared facilities were spotless, and thanks to a tip from one of the staff, we found the hot tub tucked behind the back stairs — sitting there after a long day of hiking, looking out over the Dart River, was about as close to perfect as it gets.

The resort sits between two remarkable hiking areas. The Greenstone Track follows a glacial river of almost unreal blue-green through shaded forest before opening into a wide valley with sheep grazing on the surrounding hills — quiet, beautiful, and completely unhurried. The Routeburn Track, one of New Zealand’s eleven official Great Walks, took us nearly ten miles and a full eight hours, and every single step was worth it. We shared lunch at the first hut with two Australian women camping overnight, chatted with a young German hiker who traded photos with us along the way, and turned back when the Australians mentioned hail was forecast — though the sky stayed sunny and warm all the way down. We came home tired in the best possible way. A few days later at Mount Cook would show us we still had more in us than we knew.