Cycle power
Queenstown is synonymous with bungee jumping and jet boat rides but it’s also renowned as an excellent cycling destination. Jump on an eBike and get exploring.
Pick up provisions from The Empanada Kitchen, a holein-the-wall bakery serving South American street food; they change their flavours frequently and make their own sauces. Head to Queenstown Gardens for a peaceful lap or two around the perimeter. With breathtaking views of Lake Wakatipu framed by the Southern Alps, there are plenty of scenic spots to stop and enjoy your snack. The rose garden is particularly beautiful. Ride to The Mall and Searle Lane to check out the shops. Boutique Angel Divine has been around since 1997 and stocks New Zealand labels such as Zambesi, Georgia Alice and Lonely.
Head to Park Street and onto the Frankton Arm Walkway towards Frankton. It’s usually a 35-minute uphill ride but with Bosch’s pedal assist technology, you’ll conquer the hill in less time and without the sweat.
Time for lunch at The Boat Shed café, where dishes such as pulled pork eggs Benedict are matched by a short but punchy list of New Zealand wines. Next, pedal to Kawarau Falls Scenic Reserve. Join the Queenstown Trail, which meanders along the Kawarau River and into the Shotover Delta, where you’ll see the turquoise water New Zealand is famous for. With the eBike system, you can cruise along the riverbank with little effort and really enjoy the view. There’s a picnic spot just before Billie’s Bridge or keep pedalling up Thompson’s Hill.
At Morven Ferry Road you can ride into the Gibbston Valley to taste pinot noirs and washedrind cheeses. Take control and set your own pace with the innovative technology and long-lasting battery of a Bosch eBike System.
At first, it sounds like wind rushing through the pines but as more wolves begin tilting their heads towards the sky, it grows into an unmistakable, ethereal chorus. Silence falls over the onlookers as we listen, enraptured. The howling echoes across the valley for about a minute, occasionally interrupted by a pup’s high-pitched “yips”. When the song is over, several more wolves emerge from the tree line and the group begins sniffing one another, transformed in an instant from fearsome beasts of legend to dog-park regulars. “I guess it’s pretty hard to look bad-arse when you’re wagging your tail,” a man beside me whispers. In the following days, we find the remains of a second ill-fated elk in front of the tree line in the Lamar Valley. A lone wolf is hunkered down in the snow nearby. Though it’s impossible to make out any more than a face, a pair of amber eyes staring directly at us over a patch of bloodied ice makes it abundantly clear why so many cultures ascribe wolves a power that borders on spiritual. It’s electrifying but I struggle to articulate why. In a valley teeming with charismatic bison, moose and birds of prey, why do wolves inspire such awe? “They’re very smart, they can strategise and they’re so protective and affectionate with each other,” says Jody when I pose the question. “I think perhaps we can see a lot of ourselves in them.” On the final morning of the trip, just as we’re finishing our breakfast, another traveller asks us how we’re doing. “We saw the Junction pack howling and a beautiful lone wolf bedded down in the Lamar Valley,” we tell him. “You should head out today; see if you can catch a little carcass action.”