Kia Ora – I’ll be your dawg.

Hello all,

In case you were wondering, there’s a reason I’m carrying on with the references to fruit squash adverts. You’ll find out what that is if you have the energy to keep reading.

Right, we’re still in Queenstown, but have now moved to a different hostel, called The Last Resort.

It’s set back a little bit from the road, but is still situated slap bang in the centre of Queenstown. You have to cross a little humpbacked bridge over a stream in the front garden to get to the entrance.

After climbing stairs hidden round the back of the building, which makes it feel like you’re breaking into someones house, you are greeted at the top of the stairs by the warm glow of a log fire. The other guests when we arrived were dotted about either sat round the dinner table, on the sofas watching the huge telly or pottering about in the kitchen, and all made us feel right at home straight away.

The hostel only sleeps about 16 people, which is a far and welcome cry from some of the skyscraper places we’ve stayed in recently. One of the guests is also the receptionist and many of the others are renting a bed for the entire winter, so it has more the feel of a shared house than a hostel. It’s all very cosy and homely.

In fact, the name ‘The Last Resort’ is the ultimate misnomer if you ask me, because in my view it’s one of the best hostels, if not the best we’ve stayed at in New Zealand, and I’d recommend it to anybody looking for a place to stay in Queenstown.

‘But why the repeated reference to a 20 year old advert for cordial Joe?’ I hear you all scream with thinly veiled frustration ‘…WHYYYYY?’.

Calm down people, I’m almost there.

The extra benefits of staying here other than the friendly welcome, the big tv and the log fire, are free tea and coffee, free internet and a great big husky called Cocco. (Yes, I’m afraid that’s the link – I’ll be your dawg. See what I did?)

Queenstown has a voluntary fire service, there not being enough fires here to warrant a full time brigade, and every time a fire is reported, the officer on duty will sound off an air raid siren which echos round the valley and alerts all the off-duty firemen of their need to report to the station.

Last night and tonight the siren has gone off, and Cocco, animal instincts taking over, has joined in both times, howling at full volume.

The strangest thing about it is that she actually manages to match the trademark change in pitch of the air raid siren.

Now, the noise of an air raid siren has always given me the willys, so much so that the final credits of ‘Dad’s Army’ used to send a shiver down my spine. Listening to what’s basically a wolf, but clothed for a colder climate, howling along to it karaoke style, has done little to change my view on the subject.

That’s all for now. I’ll stick a picture of her on here tomorrow.


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