Shotgun no challenge

I don't get driven around much, least of all on long road trips (or as long as New Zealand's superconcentrated geography allows.) However all that changed last weekend, when a long and tedious state of affairs most aptly described as 'losing my wallet in a taxi while unfeasibly drunk on second-label Gibbston Valley pinot' resulted in my being not legally permitted to operate a motor vehicle the day of the drive back from Queenstown, home of the unfeasibly drunk, to Dunedin, Riviera of the Antarctic.

Thing is, as far as trips to end up riding shotgun on, Qtown-Dtown isn't a bad one. In a country heavily endowed with great driving roads, the trip across the width of the South Island is a particular bringer of awesome, as much for its ever-changing scenery as for the bendy-cornery bits which mainly appeal to the person actually applying force to the tiller in the big chair. Let me explain with words in picture format.

11.06am. Gibbston Valley, about 20km out of Queenstown. Home of awesome pinot, that bungy bridge that stupid backpackers pay $180 to hurl themselves off, and serious vertical scenery.

11.45am. Along the shores of Lake Dunstan, between Clyde and Cromwell.

1.07pm. The road out of Alexandra. Which is the prettiest thing about Alexandra, although to be fair the Monteiths pub does a good feed.

1.19pm. Middle Earth country approaching Gorge Creek, between Alex and Roxburgh.

2.33pm. The fruitgrowing plains of the Teviot Valley.

2.55pm. Bridging the mighty Clutha at Beaumont. The road pretty much follows the same watercourse from Queenstown to here, before leaving it shortly after.

3.01pm. Somewhere between Raes Junction and Lawrence. Possibly.

3.26pm. Manuka Gorge, the last bit of significant twisties before the run to the coast.

3.46pm. On the run into Lake Waihola. Not literally though. That could be damp.

3.53pm. On the Taieri plain, passing D-town airport and on the home stretch.

4.04pm. The 'Giel. Do not exit. That is all. (And yes that is a pretend Hollywood sign on the hill.)

4.12pm. Following an old '57 Chevy past Carisbrook. One is tired, haggard and long past its best. The other is a car.

So that's Qtown-Dtown from the passenger seat of someone else's rented Toyota Highlander-slash-Kluger (Klugerlander?) Which, for the record, is not a car you need to seriously consider owning, unless you have a hankering for the sort of driving experience which results from a Camry being forcibly mated with a Prado. Admittedly, if I had been driving, the trip would have been conducted in a Mondeo at pace, would have taken a shade over 3 hours and would have turned the passengers a shade of green.

And no, the bastards haven't found my wallet yet either.

The Doctor is OUT.