Where the eagle soars and the birdies drop

24 Jan

Midway through our South Island travels we perform a 90 degree left hand skid off the Alexandra highway and hitch our wagon up at the homestead belonging to the Other Half’s Uncle and Aunt.

Perched up high the views here blow my little UK socks off – it’s spectacular with a capital Spec and a wow infused tacular.

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The Far Yonder that was to the left.

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The Far Yonder that was to the right. Notice the mountains peeking out the tops of the clouds.

At this altitude you get better dreams at night, scientific studies clearly finding that good dreams float higher than their dark depressing counterparts. For instance, my usual dream of being naked in the final of Masterchef and finding out that my Soufflé had not risen was replaced by me chasing Jeremy Clarkson through a forest with the world’s bluntest knife to the sounds of Queen singing ‘Another one bites the dust’, a life affirming dream as you can well imagine.

On another note we’ve gone even more Crazy Golf crazy! Lock us both up and throw away the Tee!!!! (get it? do you get it?)

Yes, golf fans we played two rounds on two different courses. The first in Cromwell and the second in Queenstown. Although different courses there was something similar about the layouts of a number of holes, we suspect this maybe a part of a franchise. The other thing that was the same about both courses was that I won. A thrashing you ask? A modest man such as myself would never say, but after the last game see here I’ve now returned some glory to my shabby name.

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Cromwell Mini Golf

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Giant Fruit – why?

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Angles to wangle your ball around.

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Queenstown Mini Golf

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Red Rabbits

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The international scoreboard

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