The last time I left Queenstown, I cried. This time when I entered the town, I almost did the same thing. I’m not sure what happened in the seven-year interim, but it looks totally different. I recognized nothing. Queenstown is now tourist central. There are stores and restaurants everywhere. There are condos on every block. There is a ^%$#@&* Louis Vuitton. LOUIS VUITTON, people!

To be honest, I found it all really depressing. I don’t have my photos from my last trip, but when we get back to Maine, I am going to pull them out, because I didn’t recognize a thing. In 2000, I spent a week in Queenstown because I loved it so much. It was a fun, kind of sleepy town—a lot like Wanaka was on this trip. This time, I was just grossed out.

T and I wandered around a little bit and decided to get lunch. Of course, since it’s so touristy there, everything was outrageously expensive. T wanted beer, so we hit the local Irish pub, Pog Mahone’s. The food wasn’t great but T had his 2 1/2 Guinnesses, so he was happy, and I was happy because we were sheltered from the icky, icky urban sprawl.

We spent two hours having lunch and then we left. Don’t get me wrong: Queenstown is still a beautiful place. The Remarkables are still stunning and the road coming into town is gorgeous. But the Others. Oh, so many Others.