But I knew that this MTV Snow Jam party was going to be something special.

Being far away from your usual grind enables one to put an altered perspective on things, get re-invigorated and encouraged to set goals. I spent 5 days in Christchurch last week and was thoroughly impressed. I know I missed a number of wicked parties in Auckland (the phone calls and I texts I received claim this as fact), but I think it was worth it.

My travels went a little something like this…

Before I could travel I needed to fulfill my obligation of being a bikini judge at Miss Hawaiian Tropic NZ ‘08. Outside the night was blustery, but inside it was bustery. Carena West, 2006’s winner, is the host of the series, she did a solid job of taming the crowd and keeping the flow. Many were calling for her to strut her stuff (which I would’ve been rather keen to see), some of the hecklers were very well endowed and experienced at this sort of contest themselves, but we were regrettably informed that those days were well behind her.

The next morning I took off to The Garden City. I knew that the Gods were smiling at me when I was seated between a 17 year old Welsh beauty coming to Christchurch to visit her cousin and Sonya, a 26 year old Canadian on a skiing holiday. The flight was made all the more bearable when the 14 month old twins in the row behind me didn’t utter for the full 80 minutes.

I arrived to a beaming city, my $10 Takapuna market aviators were applied, and I spotted Mum skipping towards me arms out stretched. We had a picnic at a park I used to play in after primary school before continuing home. When I realised that the only thing I’d forgotten were my cuff-links, my feeling that this was going to be a successfully eventful trip was underlined. I gave the Gods another hi-five.

When I used to live in CHCH the place to go on Thursday’s was Zanzibar in Merivale. The hip place remains that zone, however now it appears to be a placed called Number 4 (funnily it can be found at #4 Mansfield Ave) and the newly re-modeled Aikmans (funnily enough found on Aikmans Rd). Both have comfy alfresco areas that let you forget that an owl could swoop past your ear on a whim, and enables pesky smokers to still feel part of the group.

Even though I was home by half twelve, I rose dazed and disorientated. But the king-sized cooked breakfast Mum spread before me brought me back to earth, and it wasn’t even my birthday. I spent the day cycling about in the sun, reminiscing and stopping in for cups of tea with long-time friends. It was good to be back in a city I had left 7 years earlier due to it’s bitter winter climate, and lack of social and vocational opportunity.

Perked with caffeine I popped the cork on a bottle of single malt at 5pm, and poured decent portions for the olds. Dad wanted 2 neat fingers worth, Mum the same but a 50/50 Coke split with ice. We polished off the bottle over roast chicken, talking twaddle but having a great time doing so.

Monica and Yves picked me up at 7 sharp and I was reunited with a handful of friends from “the good ole days”, for pre-drinks. I was eager to get to Sol Square (the party hub for people like us) to see the advancements made since my last visit at Xmas, so Sarah swung in and we made haste to rendezvous with my sozzled sister at Fat Eddies. I didn’t like the name (but with neighbours whose names were Yellow Cross and Fish and Chips, FE got off lightly); having said this though the place was cosy, social and well appointed.

Since my last visit Blue Jean Cuisine had become 205 (strangely, or again funnily, located at 205 Manchester St). Everyone had been talking about this place, so I was chomping to check it out. I instantly gave it a vivid stamp of approval after I was greeted by a friendly doorman, and saw the lavish ceiling to floor slinky transparent fabric dividing the intimate socialising pockets. One of the barman recognised me from the previous night at Aikmans, so that was nice, even nicer when he recalled what I was drinking, as at this stage I had no idea.

Boogie Nights was next, a 21st century take of Auckland’s Boogie Wonderland, I mean the DJ plays out of a 70’s VW Combi covered in fluro carpet, how cool is that.

A visit out on the town is never complete without seeing what Base has to offer. On the way we descended to The Concrete Club, I was wrapped to see my old buddy Arragon on the CDJ’s (by the way mate, I’ll never convert from Technics1200’s). Base had no big event planned, but we did our best to rustle one up. The old horse of CHCH energy dance, Andy Pulzar, was at the helm. I remember blasting away up front to his beats a good 10 years ago, and here I was again. Priceless.

Mr Renie showed us around the soon to be opened re-done back bar (sweet), and treated us to a substantial number of drinks that I greedily accepted. I am not certain what time we prised our alcoholically pickled carcasses from the dance floor, but it wasn’t at a decent hour. I could’ve stayed till lunch time, but I had an interview at midday, so ignored the little devil inside my head that was yelling “After Party! After Party!”, and I made my way to a very inviting bed with a hot-water bottle waiting.

The interview went very well. We were both on the same page and I think the combo just might work (if you’re reading this Miss Interviewer, I’m rather keen . With this out of the way I was free to focus my attention on amping up for the party I had traveled 1200km for.

Due to me feeling significantly less than 100% Mum was our chauffeur. Friends (each 12-15 years in the making) Melissa, Amanda and Antoinette filled the back with chirpy cheer and we were off, destination the luxury resort aptly named Terrace Downs (at the foot of the Southern Alps), for MTV’s Snow Jam 2008.

Mum’s plan had been to stay in the car and read/knit/doze until we were ready to journey home, but I had an extra VIP pass, so we encouraged her to come in for a look. Within 10 minutes of entering she’d met Sophie, one of her favourite Shortland Street stars. The commotion was a little embarrassing, but heart-warming at the same time. From then on she was a hit with everyone, I felt a little jealous due to her popularity on occasions. I chuckled at her reaction when she tried her first Jager-bomb (similar to what our reaction would be if we knocked back a shot of motor oil dropped into a tumbler of orange sea water). The 3 girls fell for studly Dolby from Home & Away (who actually was pretty cool), now we just needed someone for me to go wow over, it later turned out that my WOW! Was to be the entire event.

I didn’t care that Fat Joe and Donovan Frankenreiter woosed out. I still got to see Op Shop, P-Money, The Vines and my ultimate favourite The Potbellez. From 3 – 8pm my chosen drop was Export Gold, from then on I added Jagermeister, Sauvignon Blanc, Tequila and Red Bull to the mix. Twice this flammable combination overpowered my stomach and I sprinted to the loo, however I was always back asap for fear of missing out (FOMO) on something life-changing.

For a free event in one of the most picturesque settings in the world I expected more GP, but it was flippin freezing cold and I suppose 5,000 is a sizable crowd at any event. When the choreographed fireworks erupted behind the stage to fitting Potbellez stage hijinx, lighting up the snow-doused mountains behind I yodeled in sheer adulation. The after party carried on well into the night at the Terrace Downs clubrooms, then later still in a couple of the chalets, with most of the big time performers having another lash. With the Olympics silenced on the big screens, heavyweights impromptu busting beats for all and the complimentary drinks and food never letting up, this was one party I will never forget.

Writing this now I wish I could experience the day all over again, I wouldn’t do anything differently, except maybe make more of an effort to get a photo with Blue MC from The Potbellez.

The next few days in Christchurch was family orientated. Thankfully Dad synchronised his 59th birthday with MTV so I could conquer 2 birds with one flight. I am already looking forward to taking the 80 minute flight again in November for Cup Week. Please email if anyone else is interested in making the journey with me. A substantially awesome time is guaranteed.