Winterfest: Let the Winter Season Begin!

 I use a complicated network of blankets and straws to ensure that I have enough oxygen and warmth within my nest. I reach one arm out and draw my laptop into my cave.

With every calorie of heat that radiates off my body I become more and more glad that I hadn't agreed to volunteer for the Skin to the Summit event this morning. My hip is aching; it feels as if my muscles have shivered and tensed up so tightly over the course of the night that they've become fatigued and sore. Perhaps it's just that I've been curled up in the same position all night, afraid to toss and turn away from the pocket of warmth I've created for myself.

Either way, late in the morning I rouse myself and knowing that my ski clothes are much warmer, get myself together and get ready for skiing. I had been snowboarding the last 3 times I had headed up the mountain and was eager to get back on skis and pick up some speed. My nicely tuned edges grip into the hard pack and skied-off areas nicely and I don't have to worry about breaking hard – I can just carve into the snow and know I'm safe.

Since I have been staying up at Arthur's Point it isn't that much trouble to drive the rest of the way up to the mountain. I had taken the bus the day before with my snowboard. I walked down the short block and across the street to the bus stop and waited about 12-15 minutes for the bus to come by. I got there before noon and was picked up at 12:12pm, so I knew it was the last bus heading up; fortunately there was one seat for me, one whole seat on the whole bus. Well, what can you expect from a Sunday morning and a town full of backpackers with hangovers?

At the top of my second chair lift ride I was flagged down by Anthony and we took a few runs together before calling it a day. We made it down to the base and got some water and checked our mypass status and weren't in too much of a hurry to hop on the bus. Noticing the bus was waiting out front for quite some time and slowly filling up, we decided to hop on, mostly just because we didn't want to have to wait for the next bus to come to take 40 minutes to fill up and never get back. Even after the bus had been sitting there at least 15 minutes after I noticed it, we still waited at least 15-20 minutes before it left.

Needless to say, I really wanted to drive up with my skis today. I had picked up a roast beef and salad sandwich the evening before and some apples to leave in the car so I could eat when I got finished. I walked out to the car with my lunch, happy that the frost had melted off the windows in the late morning sun, and attempted to start it up. Unfortunately it didn't quite want to wake up just yet. The car was turning over nicely, but just didn't want to start up. I opened the hood so the sun could get to the engine and hopefully warm it up a bit more. Both Matty and I tried again but to no avail, just the delightful gas smell of a flooded starter.

I tried again in another hour and after a little love and coaxing the car started just before 11:30am. I had a leisurely drive up to the mountain and as I was rounding the corner to head up the road to Coronet, a little blinded by the glare of the sun through my windshield, I saw two girls with snowboards walking towards the edge of the park and ride trying to thumb a ride. I felt bad not picking them up, but I would have had to make a funky U-turn to come back and I think I've had enough funky U-turn incidents for my stay in Queenstown. I drove up another 1km and after thinking for a moment I realized that the real reason I didn't go back to pick them up is because they're chicks.

Anyway, I got my sexist self up to the mountain and got a great parking spot right near Greengates. I made it up the chair and texted Sian, a girl who I met from the couchsurfing website who works as a mascot up on the hill. Her days off are Tuesdays and Wednesdays and she was out skiing with her girlfriend Emily. I met up with them over by the T bar to take a few runs. I believe Sian is from England and Emily is originally from Tennessee and now from Colorado. We alternated between the groomed run with the rollers and exploring to the far side off-piste. Incredibly the snow was still fresh over there, very soft and even after a week not hard and cruddy, and near the bottom there was even fresh untouched powder!

Powder is like a Siren to me, temping me to venture blindly into unknown territory, and soon I realized I had skied down too far to be able to traverse over. I saw some tracks leading over two logs which were laid over a small creek as a make-shift bridge. I really wanted to just balls-out keep up my speed and coast over the bridge, but (perhaps fortunately) the logical side of my brain won out and I skidded to a stop and stepped over. Besides, I wanted to take a photo! You'll never believe I had to ski over a creek via snow-covered logs to get out of the ditch I had skied down, haha!

We took a few more runs together and made our way back towards the center of the hill. I skied down to the car, and thirsty as I normally am, greatly enjoyed my fresh, crisp apple. I drove leisurely down the hill again, watching the fuel gauge get lower and lower, hoping I would make it into town. At about the same spot as I had seen the girls earlier there was a guy trying to hitch a ride with a snowboard. Once again I felt guilty for not giving him a lift, but not only was I running out of fuel, but I had to stop inside the house for a few minutes when I got to Arthur's Point and just didn't want to deal with it all.

I did make it down to the Caltex before running out of petrol and was able to find a spot, after some searching, as a camper van was pulling away up on Man St near the Deco Backpackers. It's a shame I couldn't find a spot at the library when I legitimately wanted to go to the library, but at least I would have a nice walk. I strolled down to Beach St to use the internet cafe to print my CV and continued around the block to the office building above Kathmandu where Good Group had their offices. I went up the stairs and turned left to their reception area. The receptionist wasn't there but a friendly gentleman saw me and greeted me and said he would put the CV on Cat's desk.

Satisfied with my delivery I walked down the stairs and into the bathrooms I had seen on the way up. So far they are the warmest bathrooms in town, being nestled inside a nice warm office building. It may also be because at that time of day the mid-afternoon sun was still shining, but the bathrooms were properly enclosed and not open to the elements in any way.

After my evaluation of the restrooms in the office building I decided to continue my walk around by the lake, past the Novotel, and trying to stay in the sun, up the southern side of Camp St. Moments later the sun ducked behind the mountains near the Skyline Gondola and I continued onwards to the library. It took me a few tries to find the actual door to go in, but as I entered I saw they were selling old books for only a dollar. Instead of getting a library card I bought 4 books, one fantasy, one travel/historical fiction, one by a New Zealand author and a classic by Jane Austin, a well-rounded selection in my opinion. I returned home to shower, have some lunch/dinner and rest before heading back downtown for the Mardi Gras festival and the Canadian Club Comedy Night. I had sent Louise a text asking if they needed anyone for the comedy show and fortunately I was able to go – half eight at the outdoor American Express tent called the Ice Box – that doesn't sound like it would be cold at all.

Hours later, after finding some parking at the library, I walked through the streets of town, en route to Pub on Wharf, where I would meet up with Ant, Sam and Ruth for Sam's birthday. As I briskly walked through town, I couldn't hide a huge smile on my face, loving the bustling crowds of people livening up the city. The sounds of the band playing on the stage in the middle of the street mixed with the vibrant scents of street vendor food reminds me so vividly of home, of all the festivals and carnivals I've enjoyed with close friends and family, and of every time I walk down the streets of New York City, so full of life. I love tourists towns, maybe in part for that reason, that there are so many walks of life, all coming together in one place, and everyone is there to enjoy themselves and take part in the festivities. Everything comes to life during festivals and when the tourists fill the streets. Soon the hotels and restaurants will be bustling, time to work and make money, and meet new people from different cultures. So exciting! It's finally begun!

As I made my way down the streets, the vivacity of it all brought warmth to my bones. The liveliness and closeness of all the people milling about kept the city warm and cozy. 'This is almost as crowded as the M1,' I thought to myself as I weaved through the crowds as I neared the wharf. I entered Pub on Wharf and instead of seeing Ant I practically walked straight into Nigel. He was out with two of his friends, and were about to make their way towards the Vudu cafe to get some quality mulled wine. Ant had apparently been en route to the pub when he got distracted by the Philipino BBQ. I went with Nigel up to Vudu and listened to the band playing on the stage right in the street. 'They have a good sound for 12 year olds,' I commented to myself. I wasn't trying to be cynical, but they did look very young, and honestly, they did sound good!

I saw Matty walking by and joined him in our quest to find our birthday boy. As we meandered through the crowds by the stage on the wharf again I saw Anthony, Claire, and a few other people from the hostel and said hello.

“This is starting to feel like Park City already, where you can't walk 10 feet down the street without seeing people you know!” I told Matty with a smile.

We met up with Ant, Sam, Ruth, and Ant's friend Ian inside of Pub on Wharf for a few beers. It had been a few days since I saw Sam and Ruth and was happy to hear they found a nice Canadian girl who works at Vudu Cafe to be their other roommate. Apparently she walks all the way there and back, about 45 minutes each way! Good on her. Unfortunately my visit was a bit short, but I did manage to evaluate the warmth of the bathroom (quite toasty but a long queue) and buy Sam a beer. I said goodbye and headed towards the Ice Box to usher for the comedy show.

When I arrived I was quite snug in my green Bonfire ski jacket and black Roxy hat with the Festival Logo embroidered on the front. I had my nice black slacks on over my thick thermals and grey ski socks and dark boots. I was still wearing my three layers from skiing, which was soon reduced to two because we had to wear some Canadian Club-style plaid shirts. They were cute, but didn't have very big sizes and I didn't want to wear the guys' shirts. There were a few other ushers I recognized, and some new faces as well. Our manager for the night was Karen, decked out in aqua- colored Roxy ski pants and a fitted black Roxy parka with the American Express Winter Festival logo displayed smartly across the back.

We were given floor plans and a tour of the fire exits and waited not too much longer before the guests arrived. Two girls were sent up to the foyer of the tent to scan tickets and three of us were assigned to help guests to their tables. The front tables were of two sizes, large white ones with white wooden seats accommodating 8 people and looking like they belonged more appropriately at the Saratoga Race Track, and smaller more chic tables that would accommodate 4 people with shiny metallic tops. The few tables in the back were high-top bar-area tables, with taller black plastic chairs. Small chandeliers hung from the crevice at the top of the tent and pink, blue and purple lights played on transparent snow flake designs at the front of the tent. The lighting and décor created a cool, crisp ambiance, while floor heaters and gas fires at the sides of the tent, not to mention the bar in the back of the room, kept us all warm.

Upon each seat was placed a can of Canadian Club dry, a pre-mixed drink, and as soon as people entered they went straight to the bar in the back. I hadn't felt like a drink before while I was out, but I definitely felt like one now, a nice mulled wine to warm me up, or even something carbonated like the Canadian Club dry. Maybe all the advertising just made me want one, or maybe the thrill of getting a free drink. Perhaps my throat was just a bit parched after chatting and directing people to their tables.

The show started not long after 9:30pm and consisted of three stand up comedians. I really enjoyed the kiwis' perception of Americans - “everything is big in America!” as well as their jokes about their own culture and country. Most of the jokes about America centered around our ridiculous reaction to terrorism and how strict we are about airline security. It's true though, for New Zealand domestic flights they pretty much scan your bag and wave you through. I still can't figure out why they stopped to search me and my bags when I was getting on the plane in LAX. “Did you come from a cold weather area?” asked the lady who pulled me aside for the search and placed my ski jacket down on the table. “No, I'm going to a cold weather area.” Obviously she missed the memo about the southern hemisphere having winter.

The entire comedy show was thoroughly entertaining. I laughed out loud quite a few times and was rather enjoying it all, especially my nice warm spot in front of the heater. They had handed the volunteers cold water bottles, and I found myself needing to both hydrate and cool myself several times. Life was good. Just after the intermission I attended to my other role of checking the women's bathrooms, squished down the rubbish with my foot, and thought to myself, 'Job well done.'

The show ended just before 11:30pm, long enough to be entertained and get your money's worth, but not so long that it ruined the entertainment value by dragging on. I turned in my plaid shirt, got my nice warm ski jacket back on, and headed towards the library parking lot. I stopped on the way home at Fresh Choice to get my much-coveted oatmeal and restock the black tea bags at Matty's house. I picked up a box of 100 ceylon tea bags, the oatmeal, and a fresh box of couscous and headed back to the house. Another successful day in Queenstown.