Fortunately the famed March rains have cleared, leaving me to ponder how my aging and unconditioned legs will handle the metre-high dump of powder Whistler’s just had.
If we got that in a month on Coronet it would be considered a great season – here it’s just the norm.
While we may not be able to match the meaty snow packs of British Columbia, Queenstown does have one pretty significant redeeming feature for me.
Interesting nights out of late in the once great Scarfie metropolis of Dunedin and BC’s largest city Vancouver have reinforced my hate of this strange concept known as a ‘dress code’ and affirmed my love for Queenstown’s unique laid-back nightlife.
A dress code will be foreign to those of you insulated by Queenstown’s warm blanket of acceptance.
If you’re spending a few bob at a Queenstown bar, you could be wearing your mum’s bathrobe and it wouldn’t raise an eyebrow.
Sadly, the rest of the world doesn’t share this casual acceptance.
Bouncers all jacked up on Mountain Dew screen the populace for signs of tatty or unacceptable attire they unilaterally deem would make the potential customer unworthy of their classy establishment.
Jandals and jean shorts don’t cut it outside of Queenstown’s compact CBD bar precinct.
Hats are definitely something you daren’t wear into any respectable establishment and if you’re not busting a collar out in some joints, you better get used to the view from the outside.
Mate, your scruffy money is no good here!
Even in Dunedin, famous for its Scarfie casualness, things have gone pear-shaped with the downfall of the city’s unique student bars, with students now faced with a long trek to the Octagon and its strict dress code.
Dunedin ain’t New York – I should be able to wear a hat or jandals to any of its many fine bars.
In Vancouver, I didn’t dare push the limits and risk spending any more time in the winter air than absolutely necessary so I donned a shirt and jeans and became a conformist.
I could have tried my Stockholm trick of saying we don’t have shoes in New Zealand but seeing most of Canada lives or has lived in Queenstown they might have called my bluff.
Long live Queenstown and its lack of a dress code, spoilt as we are in our patch of paradise.
Mark writes a regular column for the Mountain Scene - View HERE
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