Zees in a pod
Lorna Thornber rests her weary head in Queenstown’s latest venture - a capsule hostel.
I’m not claustrophobic but the idea of sealing myself into an enclosed capsule for the night kind of creeped me out at first. Conceived in Japan, capsule – or pod – hotels offering accommodation in compartments roughly the length and width of a single bed stacked like bunks have taken off worldwide.
And it makes sense. If all you need is somewhere safe and warm to rest your head for the night, why fork out for extras? And by ‘‘extras’’ I mean furniture and room to stand upright.
Still, I couldn’t shake the idea that lying in one would feel similar to being laid out in a coffin. I had visions of awakening in the night, flying into a panic at the thought I’d been buried alive, hitting my head on the low roof, knocking myself out and perhaps needing a real coffin. I’m a firm believer in the benefits of a good night’s sleep but I’m not yet ready to rest in (eternal) peace.
My frugality, however, often trumps my phobias and even rational fears. So, with Queenstown accommodation prices being what they are, I was more than happy to try out the city’s new pod hostel.
Just a few minutes’ walk from the lakefront, the legendary Fergburger and a well-stocked Four Square, Jucy Snooze couldn’t be better located unless it was lakeside – and then you’d have a longer walk to the Four Square.
If you have a vehicle, parking can be a bit of a hassle. There’s a car park at the recreation ground across the street which is free between 6pm and 8am – and only $1 an hour at other times – but you need to be either gone or around to top up at eight on the dot to avoid being fined or towed (that’s to say, don’t plan on a sleep-in).
Checking in via the automated kiosks on a Friday afternoon in late June was a breeze. No human interaction is required – which can be a blessing after a long week – but the young staff at the travel desk were friendly and seemed happy to help.
I hauled my suitcase through the door to my ground floor room to find two of my roomies in the throes of planning a double date with two South American girls they’d met the previous night. They were all skied and snowboarded out, so hoped to tempt the girls with a spot of go karting – one of the few Queenstown adrenaline activities that doesn’t come with an outrageous price tag. Both were from Europe, travelling around New Zealand on a budget and, they told me later, impressed by the newness and cleanliness of the sleeping pods.
I was relieved to see the pods – there were eight in my room – looked nothing like coffins (I at least have never seen anyone laid to rest in a bright white container with enough headroom for a basketball player to sit upright and a USB charging station).
The pods also contained fresh bed linen, a small shelf, an electrical socket and even temperature
controls. Each pod also comes with a large locker (not quite big enough to fit my admittedly oversized suitcase) and free wi-fi is available.
Leaving the roomies to fine-tune their rendezvous, I headed out for a necessarily brisk walk around downtown, wondering whether I should forgo this week’s savings for a winterfriendly meal at one of the cosy-looking restaurants. The line outside Fergberger’s seemed hypothermically long.
Frugality won out once again and I headed back to the hostel, where the rooftop bar and restaurant Miss Lucy’s was buzzing.
With an attention-grabbing view of Lake Wakatipu and the Remarkables and simple, contemporary decor, it was a far cry from the scungy hovels that have stood in for eating and watering holes at hostels I have stayed at in the past. Woodfired pizzas are a specialty at lunch and dinner but, as I’m gluten-free, I opted for a quinoa salad with cavolo nero, grated carrot and beetroot, goji berries, flaxseeds and cider vinaigrette. It didn’t taste like deprivation in the least. If gluten was my friend I’d have followed it up with the woodfired cookies and icecream but that would have been seriously greedy – I’d already stocked up on raw treats from nearby Bespoke Kitchen.
By the time I’d finished, the bar was full and, after having a couple of wines (at a not-too-bad $8 a glass) with a group of French tourists, headed back to my pod.
With the blind drawn, it was cocoon-like. My only gripe was that it wasn’t soundproof but with headphones on it felt like I was ensconced in my own mini-universe: a lazy person’s haven with everything I could need overnight at my fingertips. I woke a few times during the night when people came and went but I am a light sleeper and had forgotten to bring ear plugs. The guy snoring away happily in the pod above clearly didn’t have the same issues.
I must have fallen into a deep sleep at some stage because when I woke just before 8am, all but one of the other pods were empty.
After dashing out to pay for parking, I took a shower in the spotlessly clean bathroom down the hall, grateful that, unlike other hostels, I didn’t have to keep my jandals on.
Lucy’s serves breakfast as well but in the budget hostel spirit I opted to make my own in the industrial-style kitchenette. I’d stored some fruit and yoghurt from the local Four Square in the communal fridge and was delighted to find that a) none of my items had been stolen and b) I had about a metre of bench space to myself. About half a dozen other people were in there but they all seemed either half asleep or hungover so I made and enjoyed my breakfast in peace.
I spent my second and final night at the hostel in a private room with a queen bed and en suite and, after a night in the pod, it felt like the height of luxury. It was small and minimalist in its decor but equipped with more than the bare essentials. Smart TVs and mood lighting are not common hostel amenities, in my experience. And then there was the view of the gondolas climbing the Douglas fir and beech-covered hillside to the Skyline Queenstown complex – a call to action in my case.
After taking the steep Tiki Trail to Skyline, soaking up the city views so familiar from travel sites and Instagram feeds and scoring a free gondola ride down with an employee, I was exhausted and the hostel bed felt as comfortable as a clump of fluffy cumulus clouds looks. If I’d been less tired, the soft thumps from Lucy’s above might have kept me awake but, as it was, I was soon away with the fairies dancing in a dreamland nightclub.
For the discerning budget traveller wanting to spend less on accommodation so they can spend more on activities, this new wave of hostels is well worth checking out. For the sleep-challenged among us, non-soundproofed pods – which cost from $40 a night – may not be ideal but sometimes losing a few winks to save a few bucks is a fair trade.
The private rooms cost more than three times as much but, for such a central Queenstown location, still represent good value, combining the comforts of a basic but clean and comfortable hotel with the social and self-catering benefits of a hostel. For the low-maintenance traveller, they’re pretty tough to beat.