Is it possible to relax and unwind in adventure-capital Queenstown?

IT'S chilling vs thrilling in this NZ adventure capital.

Kick back at the stunning Sofitel Queenstown. Picture: Supplied / escape

IT might be New Zealand's adrenaline capital, but Queenstown does relaxation remarkably well.

To look or not to look
Sometimes you just have to know when to look. Or look away. Depends on your stomach really. Got an appetite for adventure? Then look. Got an appetite for knowledge? Then look some more. Want to keep your lunch down? Look away.

Queenstown's made for lookers, which is obvious before you even get there. Yes, the brochures are nice, but that's not what we're referring to. We're talking about what's not in the brochures, something that's never talked about until you're in the moment - a bit like childbirth.

Still, a warning about the plane flight wouldn't go astray. Planes have windows, and windows allow you see things you may not want to. Like that mountain over there just beyond the left wing tip. Heck, we all love a bit of scenery, but when you're this high up, you want your scenery OVER THERE. Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath. Not working. Not working. Not working...

You look around the cabin to see if anyone else has noticed and, sure enough, every single person has their neck craned for a decent squiz. Even those aisle-side. These people are lookers. You're more an eyes-wide-shut white-knuckler. The pilot's not though, because he hasn't deviated one degree.

If you're a white-knuckler, the one saving grace about the mountain is that it's near your destination, so you don't have to look away for too long. Still, once the plane touches down you can't get out quick enough and, once outside, it soon becomes obvious why the pilot held his course: there are mountains everywhere you look. And not a lot of wriggle room.

Grounded
So this is Queenstown. Adrenalin capital of New Zealand. But you're not here for the rush, you're here to relax. It's a town after all, right? Population 23,000. And there's nothing like negotiating a mountain in mid-air to put you in the mood for some down time. Down as in down on the ground, then down town for a good lie down.

Queenstown is about 20 minutes from the airport and right in the middle of it is one of the best hotels in New Zealand: a Sofitel with five stars next to its name. Actually, if you're going to count them, best brush up on your French first.

As you step out of the cab right outside the hotel's lobby, a man in black appears and opens your door.

"Bon jour," says he.

You ignore him because you didn't know about the French connection and so assume he's talking to someone else. You head for reception. There's another man dressed in black halfway between the doors and the reception desk.

"Bon jour," he smiles.

"Uh ... hi," you mumble and make your way to the reception desk.

"Bon jour," says a third man dressed in black, perched behind the reception desk. And he's looking directly at you, no mistaking it. "Can I help you?"

English. Thank Christ. But what's with the French? It's Queenstown, people. What's wrong with the Queen's English? Must be a five-star thing. But still, it's a little weird.

Anyway, you're still a little delicate from the plane ride so you'll speak whatever language they want as long as they point you in the direction of a bed. Which they duly do. But it's not just any bed - it's a Sofitel bed. It's big, it's beautiful and it's patented. You collapse on to the quilt, in among the myriad pillows. A calm comes over you for the first time since that mountain got all up close and personal.

You shut your eyes, but you can't sleep and it's not the bed's fault. It's the bathroom's. You couldn't help but notice the double spa and shower as you walked in. Sleep or spa? Sleep or shower? Shower or spa? So many ways to relax you find you can't relax.

In the end the bed wins. It's one of those beds that once you let it envelope you it's very hard to get out of its clutches. Besides, one of the reasons you settled on the Sofitel in the first place was because it had a separate spa/massage area downstairs and you're booked in there tomorrow. Heaven can wait awhile.

The other reason this hotel appeals is where it's at: right in the middle of town.

No-women's land
Buses to the two closest ski fields (Coronet Peak is about 25 minutes away and The Remarkables is about 45 minutes) leave and return at regular intervals just across the road, which means after a long day of skiing/snowboarding you get dropped back at your doorstep. It also means you don't have to stagger too far after checking out the many backstreet bars.

Step into any one of these bars and something else soon becomes apparent: THERE ARE NO WOMEN. Well, OK, there are a few, but the ratio is about 80/20 and they're all under 35. Same with the restaurants.

We eat at Botswana Butchery, arguably the best place in town, and it is free beefcake with your beef. Which is fine if you're that way inclined, but as a hetero male, it is ... well, let's just say the food is fabulous, but the scenery is formidable.

Steps of the Lord
Time to get out of town, which is what happens the next day. About 2km along Lake Wakatipu is a brand new facility, The Rees Hotel and Luxury Apartments. Again, you can count the stars all the way up to five, but English is all you need.

Set on the absolute lakefront, The Rees has been built to reflect its rich natural beauty. Walk into the lobby and it's all local timber and stone. Simple and stunning. Walk into the restaurant and the food and wine is locally sourced, walk into the bar and it's a showcase for local boutique brewers. Walk anywhere else and all you see is local art. It is at the Rees that I finally become a looker. And it takes just one day, my last in Queenstown.

After several hours jetboating up the Dart River and retracing some of Peter Jackson's steps as he made Lord Of The Rings, I return to my apartment, shower, change and head back down to the bar area, which is next to reception. I order a glass of wine and am contemplating tomorrow's flight home when something catches my eye. Something I didn't expect to see here. But there she is. Yes, she.

She was dressed in her underwear and looked a little distressed. From what I could hear, she'd just hopped out of the shower when the thought of some room service popped into her head. She couldn't remember her room number and as she leaned out to check the front of her apartment, the door slammed shut, leaving her semi-starkers and stranded. So all she could do was bolt to reception and plead for a towel and a key which she duly received.

And that's Queenstown in a nutshell, where even the bare essentials are jaw-droppingly memorable.

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