4th of July and End of WinterFest

 The camaraderie, the outdoors, the satisfaction of a hard day's work, the free sandwich from Motogrill; these were the reasons why I dragged myself out of bed on a Sunday morning to painstakingly remove from the ground, separate, haul to the truck, then snap back into place, every tiny plastic rectangle on the lawn of Earnslaw Park set into the wet ground to prevent the park from becoming a muddy pool during WinterFest.

It took us just over two solid hours as a large group to stack all of the plastic plates properly onto the trucks, but I felt that it was a solid end to our labor and efforts during WinterFest, and the last chance I had to do some real 'work' outdoors with an interesting and diverse crew of people. A lot of hours were put into making WinterFest a huge success, and the organizers of WinterFest put on a great appreciation party that night. In the mean time, I went to go celebrate my Southern Hemisphere 4^th of July! If I couldn't make something explode, I may as well go skiing!

On this beautiful sunny day, as I was walking towards the library where my car was parked, I came across a few guys walking down the street sipping beers who had apparently come from the bottle shop around the corner and were carrying a huge case of Budweiser. “American?” I called out to them. This was a no-brainer.

They recognized the Park City logo on my hat and Gibson introduced himself to me as an employee of Gorgoza, our snow tubing park also owned by Park City Mountain Resort. We chatted for a few minutes, he tossed me a cold Budweiser and wished me a happy fourth of July. I continued to the car, planning on enjoying this refreshing beverage when I arrived up the mountain, but the more I walked in the sun the more the allure of a few sips of cold beer after a sandwich and a few hours work became all too tempting. Although I didn't really need to, I hid taking a few sips of beer as I got into the car and got my things organized. I stashed the opened bottle underneath my jacket in the center compartment and started my drive up the mountain. I can't help but feel a little odd walking down the street drinking a beer or driving with an open container, just from my upbringing, but here in New Zealand people here are generally more responsible about alcohol consumption and the rules, at least as far as being socially acceptable, and have a lot more wiggle room.

When I arrived at Coronet at 2:30pm the mid-afternoon sun was shining beautifully and I finished my beer as I was getting my boots on. I strolled only a few meters away from my car, put on my skis, and went up the Greengates lift and on the 4^th of July, in the height of what would normally be my summer, I went skiing. I effectively only took two runs that day, but my main purpose for going up to the mountain was to get in contact with Heather at the creche to make it known that I was available for babysitting. She was busy with the little kids when I arrived at 3pm but I left a note and hoped for the best. Little did I know at the time, I would get the best.

When I arrived back home up in Fernhill I put my ski gear away, did a bit more video editing, and prepared for my evening out. I wandered down to the Sky City Casino at 7pm, a brisk but not entirely chilly night, and went upstairs and to the bar area in the back where the WinterFest crew had a hearty supply of red and white wines, Speight's Summit beers and Jim Beam and Coke RTDs waiting for us. I decided to try a red wine, and chatted with Louise, one of the coordinators, about WinterFest, Queenstown, the work situation, etc... By about 8pm a bunch more people had shown up and they put out a few cheese and fruit trays. I was enjoying them while sampling the different kinds of red wine.

I had recognized both Stefan and Richard from earlier in the day; they had been out in the park with me monotonously breaking up and reassembling plastic bits. Stefan is from Germany and Richard is from England – like most of my friends they are living in a backpackers and having a rough time finding work. I also met many other very international people, and chatted quite animated to a guy from Argentina about his home, especially since I aim to make South America my next big trip and I am eager to immerse myself in Spanish language. The WinterFest volunteer crew brings together a huge assortment of people, and I also met Shane, who does aerial photography, something that combines two of my greater passions.

Later in the night, perhaps around 10pm or so, the party moved on to Skybar, a bar I had really only heard about and seen on the Good Bars website before I got to Queenstown. I had the impression in my mind that it was a fancy cocktail lounge that would be quite exclusive and far too expensive for me to have the opportunity to go. Thus, I took the opportunity presented to me when we were promised free drinks. When we arrived upstairs at Skybar the first round of drinks were paid for, and I ended up chatting with my friends from WinterFest along with a whole new crew of people who were already drinking in Skybar. It wasn't terribly crowded, just a few patrons at the time, but our group filled up about half the bar and were having a good time. Then I got introduced to the Money Shot, and my world changed.

Ok, that's a little bit of an exaggeration, but the Money Shot is as much a part of Queenstown's night life as the lake is a part of its landscape and bungy is part of its history. This creamy dessert shot is a specialty in most of the high end cocktail bars and I haven't met anyone I've suggestively sold one to that hasn't liked it. In fact, most people order another round or two; the thing sells itself, really, and all you have to do is introduce it.

I didn't stay out too late, but I did have a great time. I went out to the esplanade and hitched a ride up to Fernhill with Scott, a snowmaker at The Remarkables who works with Nate; once again my small world got smaller. Tonight marked the end of WinterFest and the beginning of being on my own, both because I would move into my new house the next day and away from the company of hundreds of transient residents, and because any connections I would make regarding finding permanent work were left in my own hands at this point. I felt well-equipped to handle the next stage of life in Queenstown, though even looking back on it months later, I have never had the pleasure of seeing town so lively and crowded as the week during WinterFest, and if I could go back, I would do that week over, and over, and over.