Latest news with #Queenstowners
Otago Daily Times
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Otago Daily Times
Farewell to a friend and colleague
She'll take the high road for a bit, and we'll take the low road. But we'll be together again, and our love will get us through to that day. That's a paraphrasing of words written by former Allied Press journalist, Louise Scott-Gallagher, 44, who died at home surrounded by family in Queenstown on May 20. Speaking at Louise's funeral service at the Queenstown Polo Ground on Sunday, friend Sarah Taylor recounted how Louise had comforted her with those words after the death of Sarah's mother. Now they offer comfort to her former colleagues at the Mountain Scene and Otago Daily Times. They will also comfort the many Queenstowners who were touched by Louise's warmth, empathy and sense of fun — and her lilting Northern Irish accent — as she went about her work as a reporter here between 2014 and 2018. Although she took up the regions editor role with the ODT in Dunedin, she continued to spend much of her time in the resort. That was because by then she was sharing a home with her future husband, Craig Gallagher — they'd met in 2017 when she interviewed him in his capacity as co-organiser of charity boxing event Thriller in the Chiller. The girl from Gillygooley, County Tyrone, had found her forever home in Queenstown with her dream man. However, in 2023, their lives were turned upside down. After finding a lump on her breast while 11 weeks' pregnant with their daughter, Lily, Louise was diagnosed with cancer. Despite an immediate mastectomy and subsequent chemotherapy, she was told last April the tumours in her body had grown and multiplied. Her overriding wish became to live long enough for Lily to remember her. She did not want her tragic family history to repeat. Her mother, Anne, had died from breast cancer at 34 — leaving four young children behind — when Louise was 3 years old. Louise and Craig began planning a wedding for later this year, but after learning three weeks ago that her treatment wasn't working, they brought those plans forward. They were married at home, in front of family and close friends, last Monday. Louise passed away peacefully the next day. At Sunday's celebration of Louise's life, friend Josie Spillane described her as the "best mum on the planet" and a woman who lived for her family and friends. A lover of parties and banter, she was a "singer, always the first on the dance floor, and often the last one home". A collector of friends around the world, her exceptional empathy meant she was the first to provide comfort and care at times of need. A prolific cook, she was a "feeder — that's how she showed love". The doting aunt of eight also showered affection on the children of friends and colleagues. Spillane recounted what Louise had written about her predicament a year ago. "I promise I'm going to confront this head-on, but while I'm doing that, I'm going to make every second count with Craig and Lily. "I live in hope, and genuinely believe a positive attitude and outlook can help, but most of all, I live every day surrounded by love and surrounded by my friends and extended families at home and our Kiwi families here in New Zealand. "They give us so much support, and I thank you for everyone."
Otago Daily Times
24-05-2025
- Sport
- Otago Daily Times
Queenstown athletes embracing obstacles
Marijn Wouters, left, and Rhys Cunningham. PHOTO: PHILIP CHANDLER Two Queenstowners are competing for New Zealand in the OCR world champs in Sweden in September, but it's got nothing to do with the official cash rate. Instead, the acronym stands for obstacle course racing — a minority sport that's growing around the world. Rhys Cunningham, 35, and Marijn Wouters, 34, qualified through their results in Wanaka's annual Alpha Challenge. NZ's governing body also set some internal tests, but Cunningham got an exemption as he had broken a bone off an elbow. He was introduced to the sport in Wanaka in 2018 when a pro Canadian obstacle racer lived there. In Gothenburg, Sweden, Wouters will contest the 100m, 3km and 12km events, although he thinks he'll compete in the shortest distance just for laughs "given there's no place to practise that here". Cunningham's just running the 3km and 12km races. He competed in the worlds in Belgium in 2023, but lost his three bands, or 'lives', so was disqualified. "I guess my inexperience showed, and it was quite heartbreaking because you put in all that work." As to the appeal of obstacle racing, "I think it's a sport anyone can enter", Cunningham says. "Obviously, it's a running race, but you don't have to be the best runner to be good at it." For Wouters, "I love the climbing, bouldering aspect of being able to put yourself through some really rough stuff".
Otago Daily Times
17-05-2025
- Otago Daily Times
Wakatipu's diamond wedding couples
Four well-known Wakatipu couples married 60 years ago. Philip Chandler finds out how they came to meet and asks about their secrets to a long marriage. HEATHER and TREVOR GAMBLE Married March 27, 1965 Heather and Trevor Gamble ironically married the same year Queenstown's Shotover Jet started — a business they'd buy five years later and make world-famous. Then based in Invercargill — Heather was a kindy teacher and Trevor a bricklayer — they met at a party. Heather: "There weren't enough seats for everyone to sit on, so if anyone got up and went to the toilet, a male could go and sit in their seat, but you had to sit on their knee. "When I got up, Trevor sat inmy seat, and I sat on his knee." Afterwards, Trevor, being the perfect gentleman, took her home. Not long after they married in St Paul's Presbyterian Church — when they recently celebrated their diamond wedding at Lake Hayes' Ayrburn, guests included their best man and bridesmaid. When they took over Shotover Jet, which they owned for 16 years, Trevor hadn't driven any boat, let alone a jetboat. Just over seven years ago they were the fourth residents to move into the Queenstown Country Club. As for the secret to their long marriage, Heather says it's "talking to each other and understanding". Trevor: "And we had a company that had two directors and we never invited the accountant." Heather: "We had our directors' meetings in bed." The couple have two children, two grandchildren and a great-grandson. JENNY and JULES TAPPER Married April 24, 1965 Prominent future tourism identity/aviator Jules Tapper and mates were returning from skiing when they stopped as usual at the former Parawa Pub south of Garston. "We went for a drink after the meal and there were a couple of girls sitting by the fire looking a bit lonesome so I offered to buy them a drink." Jenny was "pretty good-looking", he thought. "It turned out she lived only about 500 yards from our family home, but I'd spent most of my secondary school and university years in Dunedin so I didn't know many of the girls of eligible age." Jenny at the time had a hairdressing salon and Jules worked for his dad's agricultural equipment firm. She says her mum thought Jules was "wild", she recalls. Jules: "I decided to move in quickly 'cos she was pretty keen on another young fellow at that stage — I cut him out from the selection process." Seven months after meeting, they married at St John's Anglican Church in Invercargill. For their honeymoon, Jules hired a light aircraft in which he experienced about the worst landing of his life on their way to Mt Cook. Jenny, who'd later say "Jules had a great honeymoon", ended up being a very competent pilot herself. The couple, who've been full-time Queenstowners since 1988, have two children and four grandchildren. As to the secret behind a long marriage, Jules says "variety is the spice of life, and we've had plenty of variety". FAE and BOB ROBERTSON Married May 1, 1965 Fae and Bob met at Margaret Galbraith's 21st birthday party on a pig farm where Queenstown's FreshChoice is today — Fae had brought along the town's only mobile record player. A true local, Bob's great-grandfather was the first mayor in the 1860s, while Fae had moved here from Invercargill in 1957. When they met, Bob — best known later as the fire brigade's chief fire officer for 27 years — had just taken over a building firm and she was already a travel consultant, only retiring last year. After the party, Bob offered to take Fae home. "The joke was we had to walk into town, to Amber Lodge, for him to drop me the other way, in Sawmill Rd." Fae says they came from very different families — his were publicans and hers were good Irish Catholics. "He courted me very well because he wanted a good cook and someone to keep him company — I still tell him he was an incredible actor." Fae says her mum wouldn't let her marry until she'd turned 21 in April 1965. She and her girlfriends drew numbers to choose a wedding date — they duly married at St Joseph's Church. The couple have three children and five grandchildren. Fae believes the secret to a long marriage is "not being home together too much". JANE and MICK BURDON Married May 7, 1965 Only 17 at the time, Jane was on holiday from Christchurch with a male chaperone. After a day's skiing she was at Queenstown's former Arthurs Point Pub where Mick, then an apprentice farmer at Wānaka's Mt Burke, spotted her. "He was looking for a wife — he'd had enough of living with his father, I think." Mick: "She reckons it was lust, but I said it was love." He then visited her at a motel she was staying at near the Gardens. While Jane spent about six months at Sydney's Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, "he had become good friends with my parents — he was driving up to Christchurch every other weekend to see them, so when I got back, mother said, 'he's most suitable, dear"'. They were married at Christchurch's St Barnabas Church by the legendary Canon Bob Lowe. They'd booked a six-week honeymoon in England, but while they were in Queenstown, on a ski holiday, Mick saw Royalburn Station on the Crown Terrace was for sale, and bought it the next day, so they didn't go — they then spent about 40 years farming it. As to the secret of a long marriage, Jane says: "Keep your individuality. Mick likes doing things, I like doing other things." She likes the Oscar Wilde saying: "Be yourself, everyone else is already taken." The couple have three sons and nine grandchildren.
Otago Daily Times
16-05-2025
- Sport
- Otago Daily Times
A recognition of hometown support
Two Queenstowners and a beloved local sports team were honoured in Wānaka last week. At the annual Central Otago Sports Awards, presented at the Lake Wānaka Centre, Queenstowner Nils Coberger was named coach of the year, resort ice hockey ref Adam Nagy was awarded official of the year, and the SkyCity Stampede ice hockey team was named team of the year. Coberger — who coaches Queenstown alpine ski racer Alice Robinson — was up against fellow Queenstowners Cam Frear (SkyCity Stampede coach) and Sean Thompson (snowboarding), along with Michael Beable (athletics), Dan Bogue (para skiing), Murray Buchan (skiing) and Alex Dickson (rugby), all of Wānaka, and national freeski coach Hamish McDougall (Scotland/Lake Hawea). Of the recognition, Coberger says it's "just a reflection of a team performance" by his fellow coach Tim Cafe, physio Alex Hull and serviceman Michi Haas, of Austria, who have "focused to give Alice everything she needs to perform at the highest level". "It was amazing to be included in the coaches award selection with coaches of world champions, world cup winners, [Crystal] Globe winners and an X Games medallist. "Team Alice is the reason I won this award, so the credit needs to go to Tim, Alex, Michi and our star, Alice." After undoubtedly one of Robinson's strongest European winters to date, Coberger says the highlight for him was seeing her win New Zealand's first silver medal at the alpine ski racing world champs in Saalbach, Austria, in February, followed by a string of results in her last 15 giant slalom races, in which she had just three DNFs and 12 podiums in a row. Looking ahead to this season, 'Team Alice's' focus is on the Winter Olympics, being held in Cortina, Italy, next February. Nagy, meantime, formerly the Stampede's biggest supporter, made his New Zealand Ice Hockey League (NZIHL) debut as a linesman two years ago, having reffed social league ice hockey for about six years before that, and is often head ref for NZ Women's Ice Hockey League matches. Taking the official of the year title from Craig Anderson (rugby) and Flick Wallace (snowsports), Nagy tells Mountain Scene it feels "surreal, amazing [and] unexpected" to have been recognised. "I don't think it [the recognition] was for NZIHL, I think it's more for Queenstown Ice Hockey Club and referees in general, just working with the kids, doing the referee stuff that needs to be done ... I don't think Queenstown's ever had a proper official that's taken it so seriously. "I just want to thank the people who have helped me along the way — the referees who have spent the time training me ... the people who have supported me and listened to me on the ice, and the referees who told me, 'If the referee's so bad, why don't you do something about it and become a referee?' "So I did." Stampede coach Cam Frear says the team's "incredibly proud" to have been named team of the year. The nine-time NZIHL champions, who last year stamped their name on the Birgel Cup for the fourth consecutive time, beat the Upper Clutha Rams Central Otago Premier rugby team, the Wānaka Football Club and the Wakatipu under-17 boys double scull, U18 boys double skull and U18 coxed quad in their category. "This recognition is a reflection of the hard work, passion and dedication from every player, coach, staff member and our loyal SkyCity Stampede supporters," Frear says. "It's a privilege to represent Queenstown and Central Otago — thank you to everyone who's supported us on and off the ice."
The Advertiser
09-05-2025
- The Advertiser
Snow action vs classy city. Which New Zealand tourist hub is for you?
One's a flat-out party town, the other an English-style slice of gentility. So which of these New Zealand hubs is for you? By Mal Chenu This battle of the South Island cities boils down to class versus crass. I asked my mate Dean, who was born in Christchurch, to compare the pair. "What's the best thing about Christchurch?" I asked. "No bloody Queenstowners!" he replied, before launching into a rant about expensive coffee, fat golfers, backpackers and ski bums. While Christchurch is not bereft of Dean's targets, New Zealand's second biggest city is more like a little slice of genteel England, even to the point where you can punt on the Avon. This is not gambling on whether the cosmetics salesladies are making a comeback but rather a tranquil excursion on an old-time river punt, pole steered by a classically attired punter in a jacket, tie, suspenders and straw boater. And if you don't like a punt, you can take a guided tour in a hand-crafted Maori waka, or row, row, row your own boat, kayak or stand-up paddle board. Christchurch is known as the Garden City and is on the bouquet list of petal-heads the world over. The Avon punts wind their way through Christchurch Botanic Gardens (New Zealand's finest), and in spring the city's famous cherry blossoms burst forth at Hagley Park and Kurashiki Garden. Restored and rebuilt after the devastating 2011 earthquake, Christchurch now rocks metaphorically. The city's flat, grid structure makes getting around easier than beating the Wallabies in a Bledisloe Cup match. While they haven't played a Bledisloe match here since the 'quake, Australia hasn't beaten the All Blacks in Christchurch here since 1913, as Dean is fond of reminding me. The Canterbury region pulsates for their almost unbeatable Crusaders, too. If you're a rugger bugger who likes your footy one-sided with a healthy dose of sleet (and who doesn't?) the current temporary stadium is the place for you. Christchurch is a university town of refined taste and high culture, of street murals and public spaces, of craft breweries and food trails, of endless gardens and rolling countryside. Of music recitals and memorable scones. A typical day might include an artisanal cheese tasting, catching a heritage tram to a gallery opening, designer shopping at Ballantynes in Cashel Street, a stroll along the photogenic New Regent Street pedestrian mall, and a fine dining experience around the Chef's Table at Inati restaurant, where you can pair your duck trumpets and tamarillo jam with a Bell Hill pinot noir. Meanwhile, your day in Queenstown, which exudes an intermingled redolence of midlife crisis, bravado, legal waivers and Red Bull, involves queuing with sweaty mamils for a $15 coffee, sitting in traffic, listening to people scream as they bungy jump, jet boat and paraglide, and queuing again for a Fergburger which, Dean grudgingly admits, is worth the wait. By Amy Cooper Confession: I've had a few winter trips to Queenstown, but I've never hit the ski slopes there. This is snow joke - although I know it's hard to believe when Coronet Peak's exhilarating roller coaster terrain awaits just 20 minutes up the road, and seven thrilling parks at The Remarkables (the clue's in the name) beckon from just a little farther. These spectacular alpine playgrounds, along with Cardrona's 40 kilometres of slopes and the hair-raising 700-metre vertical at Treble Cone, the southern hemisphere's largest ski field, make Queenstown the south island's cream of the drop. I always go with every intention of getting on the piste. But there are just too many other kinds of fun to be had in New Zealand's adrenaline capital. Queenstown is teeny - more than 10 times smaller than Christchurch. But the little alpine town's gargantuan appetite for good times dwarfs even the towering alps surrounding its stunning perch on the shores of Lake Wakatipu. Activities span the entire spectrum of stimulation, from bungy plunging 43 metres above the Kawarau River to hurtling in a jetboat through vast canyons along the churning Shotover River to white water rafting, luge riding, mountain biking and a million other things that make you scream, whoop, weep and giggle. The action's unleashed the moment you disembark at Queenstown airport, discover you're in a place where Uber is for sissies and transfer into town on a KJet jetboat, spinning 360s up Lake Wakatipu like a crazy toy right to your hotel jetty. Having overdosed on endorphins before you've even unpacked, you'll find you're within walking distance of at least 100 bars. Queenstown, with the country's highest density of watering holes, has one for every 75 people. These establishments tend to start the evening as deceptively hygge nooks with hearths and congenial chat, then morph into all-out banging nightclub vortexes that spin you round and fling you out to munch a legendary Fergburger before pulling you back into a party that's raged unabated since the 1860s gold rush. At some point you'll emerge, only to remember you're within 20 minutes of 75 wineries, and that Central Otago makes some of the world's finest pinot noir - and off you go again. Maybe, after sipping sublime drops at cellar doors like Amisfield and Chard Farm, you might squeeze in a blissful dip in onsen baths with panoramic views. Or ride in the Skyline Gondola up to Bob's Peak after dark to gaze in wonder at the galaxy and toast the stars with mulled wine. And then you'll find, like me, that you're out of time again. Next visit, you swear, you'll ski. But really you know that Queenstown's relentless revelry will divert you for decades or more until finally you slow down, or your knees fail. And then you'll be ready for Christchurch. One's a flat-out party town, the other an English-style slice of gentility. So which of these New Zealand hubs is for you? By Mal Chenu This battle of the South Island cities boils down to class versus crass. I asked my mate Dean, who was born in Christchurch, to compare the pair. "What's the best thing about Christchurch?" I asked. "No bloody Queenstowners!" he replied, before launching into a rant about expensive coffee, fat golfers, backpackers and ski bums. While Christchurch is not bereft of Dean's targets, New Zealand's second biggest city is more like a little slice of genteel England, even to the point where you can punt on the Avon. This is not gambling on whether the cosmetics salesladies are making a comeback but rather a tranquil excursion on an old-time river punt, pole steered by a classically attired punter in a jacket, tie, suspenders and straw boater. And if you don't like a punt, you can take a guided tour in a hand-crafted Maori waka, or row, row, row your own boat, kayak or stand-up paddle board. Christchurch is known as the Garden City and is on the bouquet list of petal-heads the world over. The Avon punts wind their way through Christchurch Botanic Gardens (New Zealand's finest), and in spring the city's famous cherry blossoms burst forth at Hagley Park and Kurashiki Garden. Restored and rebuilt after the devastating 2011 earthquake, Christchurch now rocks metaphorically. The city's flat, grid structure makes getting around easier than beating the Wallabies in a Bledisloe Cup match. While they haven't played a Bledisloe match here since the 'quake, Australia hasn't beaten the All Blacks in Christchurch here since 1913, as Dean is fond of reminding me. The Canterbury region pulsates for their almost unbeatable Crusaders, too. If you're a rugger bugger who likes your footy one-sided with a healthy dose of sleet (and who doesn't?) the current temporary stadium is the place for you. Christchurch is a university town of refined taste and high culture, of street murals and public spaces, of craft breweries and food trails, of endless gardens and rolling countryside. Of music recitals and memorable scones. A typical day might include an artisanal cheese tasting, catching a heritage tram to a gallery opening, designer shopping at Ballantynes in Cashel Street, a stroll along the photogenic New Regent Street pedestrian mall, and a fine dining experience around the Chef's Table at Inati restaurant, where you can pair your duck trumpets and tamarillo jam with a Bell Hill pinot noir. Meanwhile, your day in Queenstown, which exudes an intermingled redolence of midlife crisis, bravado, legal waivers and Red Bull, involves queuing with sweaty mamils for a $15 coffee, sitting in traffic, listening to people scream as they bungy jump, jet boat and paraglide, and queuing again for a Fergburger which, Dean grudgingly admits, is worth the wait. By Amy Cooper Confession: I've had a few winter trips to Queenstown, but I've never hit the ski slopes there. This is snow joke - although I know it's hard to believe when Coronet Peak's exhilarating roller coaster terrain awaits just 20 minutes up the road, and seven thrilling parks at The Remarkables (the clue's in the name) beckon from just a little farther. These spectacular alpine playgrounds, along with Cardrona's 40 kilometres of slopes and the hair-raising 700-metre vertical at Treble Cone, the southern hemisphere's largest ski field, make Queenstown the south island's cream of the drop. I always go with every intention of getting on the piste. But there are just too many other kinds of fun to be had in New Zealand's adrenaline capital. Queenstown is teeny - more than 10 times smaller than Christchurch. But the little alpine town's gargantuan appetite for good times dwarfs even the towering alps surrounding its stunning perch on the shores of Lake Wakatipu. Activities span the entire spectrum of stimulation, from bungy plunging 43 metres above the Kawarau River to hurtling in a jetboat through vast canyons along the churning Shotover River to white water rafting, luge riding, mountain biking and a million other things that make you scream, whoop, weep and giggle. The action's unleashed the moment you disembark at Queenstown airport, discover you're in a place where Uber is for sissies and transfer into town on a KJet jetboat, spinning 360s up Lake Wakatipu like a crazy toy right to your hotel jetty. Having overdosed on endorphins before you've even unpacked, you'll find you're within walking distance of at least 100 bars. Queenstown, with the country's highest density of watering holes, has one for every 75 people. These establishments tend to start the evening as deceptively hygge nooks with hearths and congenial chat, then morph into all-out banging nightclub vortexes that spin you round and fling you out to munch a legendary Fergburger before pulling you back into a party that's raged unabated since the 1860s gold rush. At some point you'll emerge, only to remember you're within 20 minutes of 75 wineries, and that Central Otago makes some of the world's finest pinot noir - and off you go again. Maybe, after sipping sublime drops at cellar doors like Amisfield and Chard Farm, you might squeeze in a blissful dip in onsen baths with panoramic views. Or ride in the Skyline Gondola up to Bob's Peak after dark to gaze in wonder at the galaxy and toast the stars with mulled wine. And then you'll find, like me, that you're out of time again. Next visit, you swear, you'll ski. But really you know that Queenstown's relentless revelry will divert you for decades or more until finally you slow down, or your knees fail. And then you'll be ready for Christchurch. One's a flat-out party town, the other an English-style slice of gentility. So which of these New Zealand hubs is for you? By Mal Chenu This battle of the South Island cities boils down to class versus crass. I asked my mate Dean, who was born in Christchurch, to compare the pair. "What's the best thing about Christchurch?" I asked. "No bloody Queenstowners!" he replied, before launching into a rant about expensive coffee, fat golfers, backpackers and ski bums. While Christchurch is not bereft of Dean's targets, New Zealand's second biggest city is more like a little slice of genteel England, even to the point where you can punt on the Avon. This is not gambling on whether the cosmetics salesladies are making a comeback but rather a tranquil excursion on an old-time river punt, pole steered by a classically attired punter in a jacket, tie, suspenders and straw boater. And if you don't like a punt, you can take a guided tour in a hand-crafted Maori waka, or row, row, row your own boat, kayak or stand-up paddle board. Christchurch is known as the Garden City and is on the bouquet list of petal-heads the world over. The Avon punts wind their way through Christchurch Botanic Gardens (New Zealand's finest), and in spring the city's famous cherry blossoms burst forth at Hagley Park and Kurashiki Garden. Restored and rebuilt after the devastating 2011 earthquake, Christchurch now rocks metaphorically. The city's flat, grid structure makes getting around easier than beating the Wallabies in a Bledisloe Cup match. While they haven't played a Bledisloe match here since the 'quake, Australia hasn't beaten the All Blacks in Christchurch here since 1913, as Dean is fond of reminding me. The Canterbury region pulsates for their almost unbeatable Crusaders, too. If you're a rugger bugger who likes your footy one-sided with a healthy dose of sleet (and who doesn't?) the current temporary stadium is the place for you. Christchurch is a university town of refined taste and high culture, of street murals and public spaces, of craft breweries and food trails, of endless gardens and rolling countryside. Of music recitals and memorable scones. A typical day might include an artisanal cheese tasting, catching a heritage tram to a gallery opening, designer shopping at Ballantynes in Cashel Street, a stroll along the photogenic New Regent Street pedestrian mall, and a fine dining experience around the Chef's Table at Inati restaurant, where you can pair your duck trumpets and tamarillo jam with a Bell Hill pinot noir. Meanwhile, your day in Queenstown, which exudes an intermingled redolence of midlife crisis, bravado, legal waivers and Red Bull, involves queuing with sweaty mamils for a $15 coffee, sitting in traffic, listening to people scream as they bungy jump, jet boat and paraglide, and queuing again for a Fergburger which, Dean grudgingly admits, is worth the wait. By Amy Cooper Confession: I've had a few winter trips to Queenstown, but I've never hit the ski slopes there. This is snow joke - although I know it's hard to believe when Coronet Peak's exhilarating roller coaster terrain awaits just 20 minutes up the road, and seven thrilling parks at The Remarkables (the clue's in the name) beckon from just a little farther. These spectacular alpine playgrounds, along with Cardrona's 40 kilometres of slopes and the hair-raising 700-metre vertical at Treble Cone, the southern hemisphere's largest ski field, make Queenstown the south island's cream of the drop. I always go with every intention of getting on the piste. But there are just too many other kinds of fun to be had in New Zealand's adrenaline capital. Queenstown is teeny - more than 10 times smaller than Christchurch. But the little alpine town's gargantuan appetite for good times dwarfs even the towering alps surrounding its stunning perch on the shores of Lake Wakatipu. Activities span the entire spectrum of stimulation, from bungy plunging 43 metres above the Kawarau River to hurtling in a jetboat through vast canyons along the churning Shotover River to white water rafting, luge riding, mountain biking and a million other things that make you scream, whoop, weep and giggle. The action's unleashed the moment you disembark at Queenstown airport, discover you're in a place where Uber is for sissies and transfer into town on a KJet jetboat, spinning 360s up Lake Wakatipu like a crazy toy right to your hotel jetty. Having overdosed on endorphins before you've even unpacked, you'll find you're within walking distance of at least 100 bars. Queenstown, with the country's highest density of watering holes, has one for every 75 people. These establishments tend to start the evening as deceptively hygge nooks with hearths and congenial chat, then morph into all-out banging nightclub vortexes that spin you round and fling you out to munch a legendary Fergburger before pulling you back into a party that's raged unabated since the 1860s gold rush. At some point you'll emerge, only to remember you're within 20 minutes of 75 wineries, and that Central Otago makes some of the world's finest pinot noir - and off you go again. Maybe, after sipping sublime drops at cellar doors like Amisfield and Chard Farm, you might squeeze in a blissful dip in onsen baths with panoramic views. Or ride in the Skyline Gondola up to Bob's Peak after dark to gaze in wonder at the galaxy and toast the stars with mulled wine. And then you'll find, like me, that you're out of time again. Next visit, you swear, you'll ski. But really you know that Queenstown's relentless revelry will divert you for decades or more until finally you slow down, or your knees fail. And then you'll be ready for Christchurch. One's a flat-out party town, the other an English-style slice of gentility. So which of these New Zealand hubs is for you? By Mal Chenu This battle of the South Island cities boils down to class versus crass. I asked my mate Dean, who was born in Christchurch, to compare the pair. "What's the best thing about Christchurch?" I asked. "No bloody Queenstowners!" he replied, before launching into a rant about expensive coffee, fat golfers, backpackers and ski bums. While Christchurch is not bereft of Dean's targets, New Zealand's second biggest city is more like a little slice of genteel England, even to the point where you can punt on the Avon. This is not gambling on whether the cosmetics salesladies are making a comeback but rather a tranquil excursion on an old-time river punt, pole steered by a classically attired punter in a jacket, tie, suspenders and straw boater. And if you don't like a punt, you can take a guided tour in a hand-crafted Maori waka, or row, row, row your own boat, kayak or stand-up paddle board. Christchurch is known as the Garden City and is on the bouquet list of petal-heads the world over. The Avon punts wind their way through Christchurch Botanic Gardens (New Zealand's finest), and in spring the city's famous cherry blossoms burst forth at Hagley Park and Kurashiki Garden. Restored and rebuilt after the devastating 2011 earthquake, Christchurch now rocks metaphorically. The city's flat, grid structure makes getting around easier than beating the Wallabies in a Bledisloe Cup match. While they haven't played a Bledisloe match here since the 'quake, Australia hasn't beaten the All Blacks in Christchurch here since 1913, as Dean is fond of reminding me. The Canterbury region pulsates for their almost unbeatable Crusaders, too. If you're a rugger bugger who likes your footy one-sided with a healthy dose of sleet (and who doesn't?) the current temporary stadium is the place for you. Christchurch is a university town of refined taste and high culture, of street murals and public spaces, of craft breweries and food trails, of endless gardens and rolling countryside. Of music recitals and memorable scones. A typical day might include an artisanal cheese tasting, catching a heritage tram to a gallery opening, designer shopping at Ballantynes in Cashel Street, a stroll along the photogenic New Regent Street pedestrian mall, and a fine dining experience around the Chef's Table at Inati restaurant, where you can pair your duck trumpets and tamarillo jam with a Bell Hill pinot noir. Meanwhile, your day in Queenstown, which exudes an intermingled redolence of midlife crisis, bravado, legal waivers and Red Bull, involves queuing with sweaty mamils for a $15 coffee, sitting in traffic, listening to people scream as they bungy jump, jet boat and paraglide, and queuing again for a Fergburger which, Dean grudgingly admits, is worth the wait. By Amy Cooper Confession: I've had a few winter trips to Queenstown, but I've never hit the ski slopes there. This is snow joke - although I know it's hard to believe when Coronet Peak's exhilarating roller coaster terrain awaits just 20 minutes up the road, and seven thrilling parks at The Remarkables (the clue's in the name) beckon from just a little farther. These spectacular alpine playgrounds, along with Cardrona's 40 kilometres of slopes and the hair-raising 700-metre vertical at Treble Cone, the southern hemisphere's largest ski field, make Queenstown the south island's cream of the drop. I always go with every intention of getting on the piste. But there are just too many other kinds of fun to be had in New Zealand's adrenaline capital. Queenstown is teeny - more than 10 times smaller than Christchurch. But the little alpine town's gargantuan appetite for good times dwarfs even the towering alps surrounding its stunning perch on the shores of Lake Wakatipu. Activities span the entire spectrum of stimulation, from bungy plunging 43 metres above the Kawarau River to hurtling in a jetboat through vast canyons along the churning Shotover River to white water rafting, luge riding, mountain biking and a million other things that make you scream, whoop, weep and giggle. The action's unleashed the moment you disembark at Queenstown airport, discover you're in a place where Uber is for sissies and transfer into town on a KJet jetboat, spinning 360s up Lake Wakatipu like a crazy toy right to your hotel jetty. Having overdosed on endorphins before you've even unpacked, you'll find you're within walking distance of at least 100 bars. Queenstown, with the country's highest density of watering holes, has one for every 75 people. These establishments tend to start the evening as deceptively hygge nooks with hearths and congenial chat, then morph into all-out banging nightclub vortexes that spin you round and fling you out to munch a legendary Fergburger before pulling you back into a party that's raged unabated since the 1860s gold rush. At some point you'll emerge, only to remember you're within 20 minutes of 75 wineries, and that Central Otago makes some of the world's finest pinot noir - and off you go again. Maybe, after sipping sublime drops at cellar doors like Amisfield and Chard Farm, you might squeeze in a blissful dip in onsen baths with panoramic views. Or ride in the Skyline Gondola up to Bob's Peak after dark to gaze in wonder at the galaxy and toast the stars with mulled wine. And then you'll find, like me, that you're out of time again. Next visit, you swear, you'll ski. But really you know that Queenstown's relentless revelry will divert you for decades or more until finally you slow down, or your knees fail. And then you'll be ready for Christchurch.
