New Zealand - Queenstown

Unlike Auckland, I had no problems finding activities in Queenstown. Similarly to Aspen it’s a hotspot for skiing in the winter and in the summer, many other outdoor adventures become readily available. There is plenty of hiking, mountain biking, jet boating, paragliding and skydiving. More importantly, it’s the mecca of bungy jumping.

Bungy jumping was first devised and attempted by New Zealander A.J. Hackett in the mid 1980s. It was in Queenstown that the world’s first commercial bungy jump was set up. Therefore, it is where I wanted to do it. I’d been skydiving in Hawaii, zip lining in Costa Rica and hang gliding in Rio. It was time to add another extreme adventure to the list.

There are three jumps in Queenstown, all run by A.J. Hacket Bungy. Two of the jumps, including the original one, cover a drop of around 150 feet. That’s cool, but not big enough. The third, and largest in the southern hemisphere, has a drop of 450 feet. Go big or go home, right? So that’s what I signed up for.

Before I took my leap of faith, I had a day and a half to kill and I went for a mountain bike ride.

Bad decision.

It had been several years since I’d ridden a mountain bike along any set of trails. Since I was rusty, I’m not surprised I crashed and burned. I took two hard spills. Once was because I was trying to pedal uphill over a rock with no momentum. That one sucked because I got stuck in the handlebars. The other was just a harmless turn where I lost control, mostly because it was the end of the trail and I was tired. After my failure on the dirt trails, I was in some bit of pain. I’m pretty sure I sprained my wrist because it didn’t actually heal for another month and a half.

I still had the bike for another two hours and I didn’t want to return it too early. Therefore, I took a more relaxed ride along the lake. It was much more flat. And paved. Once the pain became too much to bear, I returned the bike and took it easy the rest of the day.

The next morning I literally got a jump-start to the day. My bungy jump was at 9am. I was bussed about a half hour out of town to the Nevis gorge. I’d managed the entire morning keep from psyching myself out by thinking about other things. It wasn’t until I’d signed in and walked out to see the platform that I started to get some butterflies.

The Nevis bungy is basically a large gondola hanging in the middle of a huge canyon. You’re send on a small cable car out there to face your fears. As I’m about to get in with five other people, one of the workers said “which one of you is Matt Porter?”

“Me,” I say.

“Congratulations, you’re up first.”

In hindsight it was probably for the best, but at the time it didn’t help; the ride out to the platform beceme that much longer. The minute we got into the gondola we were buckled into our leg harness and attached to the bungy cord. I was led into a chair and the guides quickly ran through what you’re supposed to do. They barely give you a second to ask questions or hesitate before you’re strapped in, stood up, and waddled towards the edge.

The entire time, I’m thinking “don’t look down, don’t look down.” The only time I did was to take a brief glance that I was at the edge. I didn’t need to; the guy was guiding me the entire way. Within a split second it’s “ready, three, two, one, bungy!” And I lept.

My goal in doing a bungy jump was to overcome any fears I might have. I’d seen several videos where people freak out and flop off the edge or worse, get pushed. There was no way in hell I was going down like that. If I was going through with it, I was going to make it look graceful.

My initial reaction was “holy shit I actually jumped.” It wasn’t until halfway through the fall that I realized “HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY JUMPED!” A few seconds later the cord became taught and I was yanked back up. That’s when I started screaming. I’d just experienced one of the most incredible adrenaline rushes of my life. The second recoil came and on my ascent, I pulled the cord to detach my feet and get back into a seated position where I was then hoisted back up. From that point until well into the evening, my endorphins were spinning. I didn’t do anything the rest of the day. I didn’t need to. All I could think about was that jump.

My last day in Queenstown was spent on a trip to Milford Sound, one of the natural beauties of the world and a must see for anyone travelling to New Zealand. It’s one of several sounds the line the coast of southern New Zealand, but one of only two that are easily accessible. I had found a deal for a flight out to Milford and a bus ride back. Over the course of an afternoon, I was able to see much of the countryside from several different perspectives.

I was put in a little six seat prop-plane and, as the only person flying solo, was put up front. The views were absolutely stunning. Snow capped mountains as far as the eye could see, glacier lakes of ice blue in between and the ocean surrounding it all. Then there was the actual flight. It’s completely different flying in an itty-bitty plane. You feel everything, which only adds to the excitement.

After our 20-minute flight, we were put on a boat that takes us for an hour and a half ride out to the ocean and back. The sound is massive. Mountains jut straight out of the water and surround you on all side. Barely a single bit of flat land to be seen. Some of the mountains are even capped with glaciers, permanently covering them in an icy white. Best of all, there was plenty of wildlife. Shortly after departure our boat was followed by a school of dolphins, most coming within feet of the boat. Immediately after we spotted a harem of sunbathing seals. Near the end of the ride we spotted a lone carrier penguin. That was a first for me. The bus ride back to Queenstown took six hours and offered some great views of the mountains and glacier lakes, but wasn’t quite as spectacular as the plane ride.

My last two days in New Zealand were spent getting to and killing some time in Christchurch. There wasn’t a whole lot to do there, as it had been devastated by two major earthquakes over the prior18 months, and I wasn’t in the mood to really pursue any major day trips outside the city. It was sad to see the state in which the earthquakes had left the city. Many buildings were condemned and the constant threat of aftershocks kept any rebuilding from happening.

One thing that did shock me is how many of the cities buildings were crafted out of brick. For a city lying on a major fault line (and they have a history of earthquakes), it seems like a stupid material to use as building material.