Jetboat Ride in Queenstown New Zealand

This post is a little out of the ordinary – and no, it’s not some half-hearted filler dredged up from the archive. The truth is, I’d completely forgotten it happened. Only recently, while scrolling through the photo library I keep specifically for this blog, I stumbled across a few pictures – and one video – that brought it all back.

Our trip to New Zealand several years ago didn’t unfold quite as planned. The idea had been to explore and discover – but then we picked up some sort of virus, and for a few days our focus shifted from scenery to searching for doctors and chemists.

By the time we reached Queenstown – often described as the adventure capital of the world – we still weren’t feeling our best. You arrive in this global hub of outdoor thrills, and you haven’t got the energy to enjoy any of it. Queenstown offers everything: bungee jumping, paragliding, rafting, canyoning, climbing, heli-skiing, mountain biking, off-road tours, skydiving, and jetboating – not to mention more relaxed pleasures like lake cruises, vineyard visits, alpine trails, and scenic helicopter flights.

That day, a few from our group opted for a quiet one: resting on benches, sipping coffee, just trying to feel better again. But two others still in relatively good shape had different plans. How about a jetboat ride through a canyon? It sounded intense. I wasn’t sure I was quite up to it, but I also didn’t want to spend yet another day watching life happen from the sidelines. So I said yes. We headed to one of the outdoor adventure centres in town and bought tickets. The selection of experiences was enormous – all well-organised, with many running on short notice. We were told to meet back in two hours, at which point a bus would take us to the jetboat launch site.

With time to kill, we decided to ride the Skyline Queenstown gondola up to Bob’s Peak. Technically, the summit is called Brecon Street Hill, but everyone – locals and tourists alike – calls it Bob’s Peak. It was named after a 19th-century settler or shepherd, possibly a logger, known simply as Bob, who lived and worked in the hills around Queenstown. At the top, it was bustling – especially near the viewing platform – so I didn’t take any photos there. But stepping just a little aside, I managed to capture the kind of views that make you pause. The mountains surrounding Queenstown looked almost otherworldly – jagged, pale, and strange, as if borrowed from a lunar surface.

From the gondola, and again at the summit, we spotted people bungee jumping – flinging themselves off a platform built right into the hillside. What I didn’t realise at the time is that bungee jumping was actually invented here in Queenstown. The first commercial jump took place in 1988, from the Kawarau Bridge, not far from town. It was AJ Hackett, whose company still runs jumps from that bridge – and also from the Ledge Bungy, the one we saw at the top of Bob’s Peak. Unlike the classic arc of the bridge jump, this version offers a straight vertical drop over the rooftops of Queenstown itself. Watching it from the calm interior of the gondola felt oddly surreal – a strange contrast between gentle sightseeing and pure, free-fall adrenaline. There were mountain bikers, too – lots of them. The slope is criss-crossed with purpose-built downhill trails, and the infrastructure is clearly made for it. Between the jumpers, the cyclists, and the hikers, the whole peak had a certain brilliant restlessness to it – the sense that something is always in motion.

We returned to town in time for the bus, which took us out to the Shotover River canyon – the starting point for our jetboat ride. The jetboat ride we took was operated by Shotover Jet. The company has been running since 1965 and is the only operator licensed to navigate the narrow Shotover River canyons, thanks to a special government act passed in 1987. Today, it’s owned by Ngāi Tahu Tourism, representing the local Māori iwi who have a deep ancestral connection to the river, known traditionally as Kimiākau.

Everything was handled with efficiency: a quick safety briefing, clear instructions (Hold on tight, no filming during the ride), lockers for personal items, life jackets, waterproof spray jackets – and then we were off. The engines roared to life and suddenly we were flying through a narrow gorge at terrifying speed – skimming past rocks, whipping around corners, doing 360-degree spins that made us shout and laugh. The ride lasted about 25 minutes, but the rush of it stayed with me much longer. It was sharp, loud, cold, and absolutely brilliant – the sort of experience that jolts you fully back into the present, especially when you’ve been feeling a bit foggy. We couldn’t film during the ride, but cameras were mounted on the boat, and I ended up with a video, the one I rediscovered recently (watch below). You can see us grinning, laughing and clearly having the time of our lives.

Looking back, it was the perfect reminder that travel isn’t just about ticking off sights – it’s also about saying yes to the spontaneous, the strange, and the serendipitous. Even on a day that began with low energy and no real plan, we wound up doing something utterly unforgettable. That blast of icy air, the slap of water on our faces, the way my stomach dropped and rose again – it was exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

Jetboat Ride in Queenstown New Zealand

A Glacier Walk in New Zealand South Island

Heading to New Zealand, you expect to enjoy breathtaking nature – and you absolutely will. But the country offers more than just scenic walks and stunning views. Many incredible places are not easily accessible on foot, or reaching them would cost too much time and effort. That’s why New Zealand’s outdoor tourism industry is so well developed – with helicopters, boats, water gear, and cleverly built pathways that allow access to remote spots without the need for professional equipment. What’s also important is that New Zealand isn’t easily overrun by mass tourism. Most of the time, you’ll find yourself exploring in small groups, surrounded by silence and space, with no one else around – or at least not close enough to notice. And that’s exactly how it was during our glacier walk on the South Island.

When we crossed from New Zealand’s North Island to the South Island by ferry, a storm was in the forecast – possibly even a cyclone. And sure enough, the night we were supposed to reach Fox Glacier, where our glacier walk was originally scheduled, it hit. In the Southern Alps, where our hike was meant to happen, avalanches caused by the storm damaged State Highway 6 in several places, cutting off access to the Fox Glacier valley. Our bit of luck in all this was that we had planned a night’s stay just before crossing the mountains, with the idea of continuing to Fox the next morning. So we made it to our accommodation, but it became clear that getting across the range in time for our booking wasn’t going to happen. What we learned (and what we’d keep learning throughout the trip) is that New Zealand’s outdoor industry is not only adventurous, but impressively well-organized – especially when the weather messes with your plans. We had to cancel our original tour to Fox Glacier, but luckily, there was a similar heli-hiking option available nearby, at Franz Josef Glacier, on the accessible side of the mountain. So the glacier we eventually walked on wasn’t the one we’d originally planned to visit – but we were still able to join a morning group at Franz Josef, cancel with the other operator, and make the most of the day.

The Southern Alps are the main mountain range of New Zealand’s South Island, stretching over 500 kilometers along the island’s rugged western coast. The highest peak, Aoraki / Mount Cook (3,724 m), carries both a Māori and a European name – as do many natural landmarks in New Zealand. The name Alps was given by James Cook and his crew, who thought these snow-covered peaks looked strikingly similar to the European Alps they knew from home. On the western slopes of this range – steep, wet, and densely forested – lie the two most famous glaciers: Fox Glacier and Franz Josef Glacier. What makes them unique is how low they descend, reaching almost into temperate rainforest and lying only a short distance from the sea. Franz Josef Glacier (known in Māori as Kā Roimata o Hine Hukatere) was named in 1865 by Austrian geologist Julius von Haast, in honor of Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria. According to Māori legend, the glacier was formed from the tears of a young woman mourning her lover, who died in the mountains – which is why its traditional name translates to The Tears of Hine Hukatere. It’s a place where alpine drama meets lush rainforest, and where raw nature, deep stories, and unexpected access come together – the perfect setting for an unforgettable walk on ice.

We reached the glacier by helicopter, after being fully equipped by the tour operator with proper clothing, sturdy boots, and crampons. When we arrived at the base at the scheduled time, we quickly learned that this wasn’t yet the time to fly. First, despite already wearing decent outdoor gear, we were taken to a changing room and given full equipment – waterproof pants, jackets, gloves, boots, and crampons. As you’ll see in the photos, everyone looked pretty similar – the gear was clearly standard issue, and very effective. It was designed to keep you dry even if you stepped in glacier meltwater, which turned out to be very useful. We were also asked to leave most of our personal belongings in lockers and only take essentials, packed into small waterproof bags provided by the staff. Then came the helicopter part. Before boarding, we were all weighed and seated accordingly – the pilot arranged us inside based on weight distribution to keep the helicopter balanced. My lucky break? I got the seat next to the pilot, which means I also got some great window shots of the glacier as we flew in. You’ll see those just below.

At first, I thought the glacier walk would be just that – a simple walk with plenty of photo opportunities. The surface where we landed looked fairly flat, and the surrounding slopes didn’t seem too steep. The crampons strapped to our boots made walking on the ice surprisingly easy. But I soon realized that the entire experience was carefully planned. After about an hour of easy strolling, we approached some ice formations that, from a distance, didn’t appear very high – but in reality, they were massive. That’s when it became clear there were more guides on the glacier than just the one who had accompanied us from the start. While we were walking on the flat surface, the other guides had been busy preparing our route across to the other side of the mountain – digging ice stairs into the steeper sections and selecting narrow ice crevasses we’d actually have to climb into. Some professional climbing gear came into play, and suddenly it wasn’t just a walk anymore. At one point, I even got wedged between two icy walls. Luckily, we had three fantastic guides with us – kind, supportive, and keeping the mood light. Lady, I’m not helping you, one of them joked as he steadied me on a tricky descent, I just wanted to hold your hand.

The whole time, we felt completely alone on the glacier – or at least that was the impression. Only if you looked far across to the other side of the slope, really far, you might have spotted a few tiny red dots moving in the distance. Honestly, I only noticed them after I saw a very small helicopter landing on that part of the mountain. Below are the photos I took during our glacier flight and walk, shown exactly in the same order in which I took them.

In New Zealand, the outdoor industry is more than just adventure – it’s a well-structured system built around safety, flexibility, and respect for nature. Any company offering outdoor activities – whether it’s heli-hiking, speed boating, bungee jumping, kayaking, or trekking – has to be officially registered, meet strict safety standards, and go through regular audits. Oversight comes from national agencies like WorkSafe NZ, the Civil Aviation Authority, or Maritime NZ, depending on the type of activity. Operators are required to assess risks, react to changing weather, and make sure everyone has a great experience without compromising safety. What happened to us – having to cancel a trip due to avalanche damage and immediately being offered a well-organized alternative – isn’t unusual. That kind of flexibility is part of the system. Another thing that makes a big difference is that most activities are run in small groups, and access to popular areas is often limited. That’s why even well-known spots don’t feel crowded, and you still get that feeling of being close to nature. Local communities are also closely involved, and many activities operate in cooperation with the Department of Conservation, which manages access to protected areas. All of this means that outdoor adventures in New Zealand aren’t just beautiful and exciting – they’re also remarkably well-managed, with a strong focus on safety, comfort, and responsibility.

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A Glacier Walk in New Zealand South Island

Santiago Bernabeu. The Real Madrid fan zone

Madrid is one of those European cities you can simply enjoy. The town is relatively new in comparison to other European capitals, and there are not many historical objects on the must-see list. But the variety of places worthwhile provides much fun for a visitor. Imagine that one day you go to Prado, one of the most impressive galleries world-wide and the next day to this place – the big fan zone of Real Madrid, the worldwide recognized football (soccer) club, located at the club’s stadium Santiago Bernabeu. (The stadium was named after one of the Real Madrid presidents.)

The tour begins at the top-level of the stadium, where you can take a good look at the stadium panorama. (The picture below I made, however, from the tribunes at the lower level.)

Then you are directed to the fan zone, which is a series of corridors and exhibition rooms, where you can admire the trophies and various presentations on the clubs history and its legendary players. While taking photos, I tried to avoid showing people, but the number of people visiting this place (on Monday morning) was impressive. You could have seen the real fans of the club, but also tourists who wanted just to see the legendary stadium.

At the end of the tour, you visit the dressing room and later a huge boutique, where you can buy various fan stuff.

The stadium panorama, a shot taken from the lower tribunes

The stadium was initially known as the Nuevo Estadio Chamartín when construction began in 1944. It was built to replace Real Madrid’s previous home ground, Estadio Chamartín. The renowned Spanish architect José Castell designed the stadium, and the construction was completed in three years. On December 14, 1947, the stadium was officially inaugurated as Estadio Santiago Bernabéu in honor of the club’s former player, coach, and president, Santiago Bernabéu.

In the early years, the stadium had a capacity of around 75,000 spectators. To accommodate the growing fanbase and enhance the facilities, the stadium underwent several expansions and renovations over the years. In 1954, floodlights were installed, making it the first stadium in Spain with artificial lighting. In 1957, the upper tier was added, increasing the capacity to around 125,000 spectators.

The stadium construction history, you can see already at the first corridor after entering the fan zone

Below some other photos I made in the fan zone in the random order. By far, they do not reflect its full interior. This is just a glimpse of it. Basically, in all rooms besides shelves with trophies, there are many screens presenting pictures and films. The video is accompanied by music and audio, partially recorded during matches. It is a spectacle that puts you in a very positive mood. Even if you are not a real fan, it is fun. 

The only thing I did not like inside was the almost obligatory queues where pictures of visitors were taken. One was with a trophy cup and one with paper figures of players. The latter one in the end effect is a photo-montage of you and the player.  Of course, to take it home, you have to pay quite a decent amount of money. I chose the latter, but to be frank, it is not something I would show to anyone.

Inside the Real Madrid fan zone

The absolute highlight is the room with the most important cups. It was dark all around, only the big glass box was enlightened. I had to wait ten minutes to catch at least one second with no people posing to a photo. That what I liked much was that people waited till the others finished posing.

The very trophies

To get to the dressing room and the boutique, one has to leave the fan zone through the lower tribunes. In the dressing room, do not expect anything special. It is just a dressing room. The equipment does not differ from that one can see in other big stadiums.

And finally the bench and behind it to the right the entrance to the dressing room

Santiago Bernabeu. The Real Madrid fan zone