You ever come back from a trip and just feel like you're buzzing? That's me after Queenstown. When I first started dreaming of that place, I thought I'd find the usual tourist traps. But as it turned out, the best things to do in Queenstown weren't in any brochure. They were those little moments that just kind of happened, like unexpected gifts from the universe.
This spot? Total surprise.
So, my first day was pretty much a whirlwind. I landed, looked at the view of those mountains—seriously, they look like something out of a dream—and thought, “Okay, this is nice.” But I didn't really know where to start. I was filled with, I don't know, excitement and a bit of doubt. What if I'd miss the best parts? Was I going to be disappointed?
After some aimless wandering, which actually turned into a short detour to grab coffee (not complaining, though—NZ flat whites are basically liquid happiness), I found myself at a small art gallery tucked away from the main drag. The owner was this charming old dude who could've been a character in a novel. He welcomed me like I was a long-lost friend and started sharing stories about the artists featured there. Honestly, I wasn't expecting much, but I ended up spending over an hour just soaking in the stories and the artwork. One piece, a wild abstract painting of the mountains, almost made me tear up. It felt like it was reflecting my own inner chaos, and suddenly, I wasn't just a tourist; I was part of the place.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
The next day, I signed up for a horseback riding tour. Typically, I wouldn't be the type, but they were like, “You'll see places no one else can get to,” and I thought, why not?
When I got to the ranch, my nerves kicked in. I mean, horses are huge! As I mounted mine, a beautiful brown mare named Bella, I felt like a toddler learning to ride a bike—all wobbly and unsure. But the guides were awesome, and before I knew it, we were off, galloping through these breathtaking fields.
The scenery was a surreal tapestry of green grass and moody skies. At one point, the group paused near a stunning lake, almost as if the clouds were coming down to hug it. I had this moment where everything clicked—my worries about getting lost or missing out faded. It was just pure joy.
And guess what? Bella and I bonded. She started following my lead. I mean, come on, that's the kind of connection you dream of, right? By the time we got back, I felt different—like some stress had peeled off. Honestly, I can't believe I almost didn't take that plunge into the horse world.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Now, let me tell you about my epic detour that felt less like a lucky twist and more like a classic “me” move. I was trying to find this pie shop I'd read about—the famous one that was supposedly the best in New Zealand. I thought I had Google Maps all figured out, but nope, turns out I'm directionally challenged.
Instead of the sweet smell of baking pastry, I found myself wandering through a neighborhood, still holding tight to my phone like it was my security blanket. In the midst of my frantic searching, I stumbled across this little bakery tucked away, and it was the kind of place that instantly felt cozy. The smell! I could've stopped and closed my eyes.
I walked in, and before I knew it, I was talking with the lady behind the counter. She introduced me to Lamington, a sponge cake coated in chocolate and rolled in coconut. My life was forever changed. I hadn't even planned on doing that, but sometimes the best adventures are the ones that feel disorganized.
The pie shop? Yeah, I still didn't find it. But I left that bakery with way more than I expected—a warm piece of cake and this lovely chat. Moments like that feel like serendipity, don't you think?
A meal that knocked my socks off
And speaking of serendipity, let's talk food. I had dinner at this place called Botswana Butchery, which sounds fancy but is really laid-back. I went in on a whim after another failed attempt to find a dinner spot. The atmosphere had this incredibly cozy vibe, with dim lighting and rustic wooden tables. I'm telling you, the ambiance had me at "hello."
Then I ordered this venison dish that was a game-changer. It was cooked to perfection, perfectly tender and rich, dropped on a bed of creamy mash just dripping with flavor. With a glass of local pinot noir on the side? I was living my best life. At that moment, I felt like I was experiencing the region—not just eating but really tasting the land.
The server even caught me savoring the flavors way too long and laughed, “That's the kind of look I like to see.” I smiled, thinking, “You have NO idea how much this moment means to me right now.”
Soaking it all in
As I sit here now, sipping my final bit of coffee and reliving all these moments, I realize that Queenstown is less about the activities and more about the experiences that feel almost magical. Maybe that's the best things to do in Queenstown—finding places that make you stop, breathe, and just exist.
I didn't go bungee jumping or skiing—though those are great for some. Instead, I got lost, laughed with strangers, and chowed down one of the best meals of my life. It wasn't planned, but it turned out to be everything I needed. Isn't it funny how life works out?
So, if you ever find yourself doubting your plans or your sense of direction, just lean in. Trust me, the best adventures often feel messy before they turn into beautiful memories. And who knows? Just around the corner might be the best pie you've ever tasted… even if it was totally unplanned.
