This is something you don’t see every day of the week, or once in a lifetime, perhaps.
We arrived at the Hilton Auckland hotel somewhere between one and two in the morning after arriving from Australia by plane around midnight.
Sometimes there is a benefit in arriving late, and, of course, being a very high tier HHonors guest, where the room you book is upgraded.
This stay we got one hell of a surprise.
We got to spend the night in the Presidential Suite.
The lounge and extra bathroom.
Looking towards the private bathroom.
A bathroom fit for a King and a Queen
And the royal bed
There was a note to say that we should keep the blinds closed for privacy and that a ship would be arriving in the port, but I did not expect it to be literally fifty feet from our balcony.
Queenstown Gardens are not far from the center of Queenstown. They are just down the hill from where we usually stay at Queenstown Mews.
More often than not we approach the Gardens from the lakeside during our morning walk from the apartment to the coffee shop. You can walk alongside the lake, or walk through the Gardens, which, whether in summer or winter, is a very picturesque walk.
There’s a bowling club, and I’m afraid I will never be that sort of person to take it up (not enough patience) and an Ice Arena, where, in winter I have heard players practicing ice hockey.
I’m sure, at times, ice skating can also be done.
There is a stone bridge to walk across, and in Autumn/Winter the trees can add a splash of color.
There is a large water feature with fountain, and plenty of seating around the edge of the lake, to sit and absorb the tranquility, or to have a picnic.
There are ducks in the pond
and out of the pond
and plenty of grassed areas with flower beds which are more colorful in summer. I have also seen the lawns covered in snow, and the fir trees that line the lake side of the gardens hang heavy with icicles.
It was a relic from the past, put back together by a dedicated group of volunteers who had not wanted the last vestiges of the past to disappear.
Train enthusiasts, the called themselves.
They’d put together a steam locomotive, five carriages, a restaurant car, and the conductor’s car. The original train might have been twice to three times as long, but these days, the tourist market rarely filled the train.
I was one of a group who made it their mission to visit and rate every vintage train, not only in this country, but all over the world. It was a sad state of affairs when I first began, with locomotives and carriages dropping out of the system due to lack of funds, but more disheartening, the lack of government assistance in keeping it’s heritage alive.
It seemed money was short, and there were better things to spend it on, like two brand new 737-800 jets just to ferry the prime minister and government officials around. Just think of what that quarter of a billion dollars could have bought in heritage.
But it is what it is.
What I had before me was one of the most recent restorations to check out, and on first glance, it was remarkable just how lifelike and true to age it was.
Of course, I was of an age that could remember the old railway carriages, what were called red rattlers because of the ill fitting windows that went up and down, allow fresh air, or in days gone by, smoke from the locomotive hauling the train. I had not travelled during the last glorious years of steam, but the carriages had lived on briefly before the advent of the sterile aluminum tin cans with uncomfortably hard seats.
These carriages were built for comfort, and my first experience had been a five hour trip from Melbourne to Wangaratta, in Victoria, on my way to Mt Buffalo Chalet, a guesthouse owned by the Railways.
That too had been a remarkable old chalet style guest house with a room and all the dining included. I always left after the week having put on weight. Breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner, every day, and high tea on Sunday.
But this carriage, the polished wood that had shellac rather than varnish, highlighting the timber’s grain, the leather seats with generous padding, the curved ceilings with hanging lights, windows the could be opened and closed, allowing fresh air to circulate.
There was also a carriage with the passageway, and five or six separate compartments, each sitting six passengers. I remembered these well, having quite often ridden in one to work for some years when the country trains still ran.
It was always remarkable how a sight or a scent could trigger such memories.
For this carriage on this train, it used to ply the Gympie to Brooloo branch line from about 1915 onwards.
That was the history. It only went as far as Amamoor these days, it was still long enough to capture the sensation of riding the rails back in what is always referred to as the good old days, even if they were not.
Oreti village, Pukawa Bay, North Island, New Zealand
On the southern tip of Lake Taupo
Our first morning there, a Saturday. Winter. Cold. And a beautiful sunrise.
This was taken from the balcony, overlooking the lake.
The sun is just creeping up over the horizon
It gradually gets lighter, and then the sun breaks free of the low cloud
It lights up the balcony
And the trees just beyond, a cascade of colorful ferns.
It looks like its going to be a fine day, our first for this trip, and we will be heading to the mountains to see snow, for the first time for two of our granddaughters.
It was a relic from the past, put back together by a dedicated group of volunteers who had not wanted the last vestiges of the past to disappear.
Train enthusiasts, the called themselves.
They’d put together a steam locomotive, five carriages, a restaurant car, and the conductor’s car. The original train might have been twice to three times as long, but these days, the tourist market rarely filled the train.
I was one of a group who made it their mission to visit and rate every vintage train, not only in this country, but all over the world. It was a sad state of affairs when I first began, with locomotives and carriages dropping out of the system due to lack of funds, but more disheartening, the lack of government assistance in keeping it’s heritage alive.
It seemed money was short, and there were better things to spend it on, like two brand new 737-800 jets just to ferry the prime minister and government officials around. Just think of what that quarter of a billion dollars could have bought in heritage.
But it is what it is.
What I had before me was one of the most recent restorations to check out, and on first glance, it was remarkable just how lifelike and true to age it was.
Of course, I was of an age that could remember the old railway carriages, what were called red rattlers because of the ill fitting windows that went up and down, allow fresh air, or in days gone by, smoke from the locomotive hauling the train. I had not travelled during the last glorious years of steam, but the carriages had lived on briefly before the advent of the sterile aluminum tin cans with uncomfortably hard seats.
These carriages were built for comfort, and my first experience had been a five hour trip from Melbourne to Wangaratta, in Victoria, on my way to Mt Buffalo Chalet, a guesthouse owned by the Railways.
That too had been a remarkable old chalet style guest house with a room and all the dining included. I always left after the week having put on weight. Breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner, every day, and high tea on Sunday.
But this carriage, the polished wood that had shellac rather than varnish, highlighting the timber’s grain, the leather seats with generous padding, the curved ceilings with hanging lights, windows the could be opened and closed, allowing fresh air to circulate.
There was also a carriage with the passageway, and five or six separate compartments, each sitting six passengers. I remembered these well, having quite often ridden in one to work for some years when the country trains still ran.
It was always remarkable how a sight or a scent could trigger such memories.
For this carriage on this train, it used to ply the Gympie to Brooloo branch line from about 1915 onwards.
That was the history. It only went as far as Amamoor these days, it was still long enough to capture the sensation of riding the rails back in what is always referred to as the good old days, even if they were not.
Queenstown Gardens are not far from the center of Queenstown. They are just down the hill from where we usually stay at Queenstown Mews.
More often than not we approach the Gardens from the lakeside during our morning walk from the apartment to the coffee shop. You can walk alongside the lake, or walk through the Gardens, which, whether in summer or winter, is a very picturesque walk.
There’s a bowling club, and I’m afraid I will never be that sort of person to take it up (not enough patience) and an Ice Arena, where, in winter I have heard players practicing ice hockey.
I’m sure, at times, ice skating can also be done.
There is a stone bridge to walk across, and in Autumn/Winter the trees can add a splash of color.
There is a large water feature with fountain, and plenty of seating around the edge of the lake, to sit and absorb the tranquility, or to have a picnic.
There are ducks in the pond
and out of the pond
and plenty of grassed areas with flower beds which are more colorful in summer. I have also seen the lawns covered in snow, and the fir trees that line the lake side of the gardens hang heavy with icicles.
Oreti village, Pukawa Bay, North Island, New Zealand
On the southern tip of Lake Taupo
Our first morning there, a Saturday. Winter. Cold. And a beautiful sunrise.
This was taken from the balcony, overlooking the lake.
The sun is just creeping up over the horizon
It gradually gets lighter, and then the sun breaks free of the low cloud
It lights up the balcony
And the trees just beyond, a cascade of colorful ferns.
It looks like its going to be a fine day, our first for this trip, and we will be heading to the mountains to see snow, for the first time for two of our granddaughters.
The Kingston Flyer was a vintage train that ran about 14km to Fairlight from Kingston, at the southern end of Lake Wakatipu, and back.
This tourist service was suspended in December 2012 because of locomotive issues.
However, before that, we managed to go on one of the tours, and it was a memorable trip. Trying to drink a cup of tea from the restaurant car was very difficult, given how much the carriages moved around on the tracks.
The original Kingston Flyer ran between Kingston, Gore, Invercargill, and sometimes Dunedin, from the 1890s through to 1957.
There are two steam locomotives used for the Kingston Flyer service, the AB778 starting service in 1925, and the AB795 which started service in 1927.
The AB class locomotive was a 4-6-2 Pacific steam locomotive with a Vanderbilt tender, of which 141 were built between 1915 and 1927 some of which by New Zealand Railways Addington Workshops.
No 235 is the builder’s number for the AB778
There were seven wooden bodied passenger carriages, three passenger coaches, one passenger/refreshments carriage and two car/vans. The is also a Birdcage gallery coach. Each of the rolling stock was built between 1900 and 1923. They were built at either of Addington, Petone, or Hillside.
I suspect the 2 on the side means second class
The passenger coach we traveled in was very comfortable.
This is one of the guard’s vans, and for transporting cargo.
The Kingston Railway Station
and cafe.
A poster sign advertising the Kingston Flyer
The running times for the tourist services, when it was running.
