THE COLOURS OF QUEENSTOWN
Most people visit Queenstown in search of adventure. They go for the bungee-jumping, the jet-boat-riding, and the luging. They go for the skiing, and the parachuting, and the horse-back-riding in the countryside. The whole town is abuzz with people, always searching for adventure.
Yet, my visits to Queenstown have always been of the calm, slow variety. My time there has been spent in many a snowboarding shop or skate park, waiting on my brother. I have also managed to fit in a lot of ice-cream eating, and endless amounts of time spent wandering about the town, aimlessly following my family on some errand or other. For a few years, Queenstown was like a second home, as my ever-changing family decided to relocate to the hills above the lake.
I also liked to spend my time there on the shores of the lake, skimming stones, climbing the gnarled trees and watching the buskers and slack-liners and the parachuters. Sometimes we would go for a bike ride around a trail that was dusted with autumn leaves, or go out for fudge in pretty little Arrowtown.
These were all calm days, nothing-much-to-do-days, filled with noise and colour.
