What do you get when Mother Nature and Bob Ross have a baby? Then wrap it in autumn and raise it in New Zealand? Answer: You get the scattered inferno of yellow and red trees that is Arrowtown. If nothing else, the fall season truly brings out the wild side of this settlement located next to Queenstown. It just looked like every hillside had been dipped in a prismatic well of colors, and splashed onto an already splattered canvas.
I really enjoyed this town because one, I ate a massive sub sandwich called a football. It would have been nice if the entire sandwich was wrapped in pig skin, but to be stuffed with the same was nothing less than an appetizing flashback to all that is good and wholesome to my tastebuds. This salivating behemoth was not only stuffed with chicken and cheese, but BACON as well. As a child I was addicted to bacon. I would tirelessly and scrupulously move about the kitchen at God awful hours trying to get my hands on that fatty, salty goodness. That is until my parents banned me from having it. According to them I was getting too fat. Even now I have to limit myself from having too much bacon, and I must say, Arrowtown almost made a helpless addict revert back to his bacon’y ways. It was so delicious I almost didn’t want to share it with Yen. Apart from eating, I also filled my head with a bit of knowledge. Of course I understand the doubts you may have as you scratch your scalp with spit dribbling from the side of your mouth as your brain crashes into the frontal lobe of your skull. You might ask, Harold openly accepting worldly lessons to extend his knowledge? Well, yes. Usually when it comes to learning, I don’t care for topics that don’t instantly grab and interest me. As my father always said, “It’s in one ear and out the other.” As we did our sightseeing thing, I picked up some history on Arrowtown’s gold rush of the 1860’s. Even with its heyday long gone, we still managed to see a few people sifting through the Arrow River looking to score some riches. I would love to elaborate more on the great histories of this quaint town but as I said, in one ear and out the other. Ironically, rather than stay in the river panning for gold, people should have kept their heads up. The trees for the most part sucked up all of the gold from the river and stored it in their flimsy leaves. If only money and gold grew on trees. Nonetheless, everyone loves the idea of finding the score of a lifetime and I would have joined in, but I was in my pajamas most of the day. Don’t ask why and we’ll move on…shall we?
Out of the few available trails, Yen and I decided to walk the Sawpit Gully. It was definitely an easy path for walking in pajamas, and it gave us pretty good vantage points to see the town from up high. Looking down below, Arrowtown resembled a giant bowl of mandarin salad. Like a lush combination of scrumptious greenery that you just couldn’t wait to devour and lie back in the soft autumn sun to pick your teeth and digest. If you’ve taken a look at the photos, I’m pretty sure you’ve noticed the trail also provided a lot of good photo ops. We managed to see Air Bud taking his daily walk, a hawk munching on his freshly caught lunch, and hundreds of toadstools. Mario and Luigi would have gone crazy in this place. Although toadstools are great sources of illusionary power in fictional worlds where men climb out of sewers and break bricks with their heads, the real eye catcher of the day were the leaves. Brightly colored, hanging, falling, and lying all over our path. It was like the trees were rolling out the yellow carpets for us. Many times during the trail, I just thought of the leaves as thousands of yellow bricks just waiting for me to hop all over them. The day was so sensational we even managed to spot a shape in the form a heart etched into the side of a hill. Seriously, there was a heart on the side of a hill.
I felt there were far too many photos to place in a traditional mosaic, so I created a slideshow instead. Hope you all enjoy them, and let us know what you think by leaving comments below.