Whilst traveling in New Zealand I've come across several Kiwis that have mentioned this awesome place for burgers. Everyone knows this place and says that it's a "must" in Queenstown. When I finally made it down there, I knew it had to be done.
I scour the burger list and decide I should go big or go home. I order a double Ferg, but I made Bernie split it with me. I know this thing is going to be massive and I don't want to be waddling out of this joint. We order that and some chips (fries) with wasabi aioli and await this monster. We watch them make burgers on the line. Some with pineapple, fried egg, or beetroot (some with all).
I had a Fergburger.
So this place is packed. Hardly any seating. A line out the door. A huge list of weird burgers on the wall. Now, when I say "burger" it means anything between two buns. Such as a fish or chicken sandwich. These are called fish burger and chicken burger. I know, the Kiwis are weird. I guess it's just easier, plus it sounds cooler when they say it.
I scour the burger list and decide I should go big or go home. I order a double Ferg, but I made Bernie split it with me. I know this thing is going to be massive and I don't want to be waddling out of this joint. We order that and some chips (fries) with wasabi aioli and await this monster. We watch them make burgers on the line. Some with pineapple, fried egg, or beetroot (some with all). 
It finally comes. I look at the burger tower, admire it and bite. It's juicy and delicious. Everything one would want in a burger. I accompany my bites with the chips and we enjoy the rest of it. Sat there for awhile and pondered my existence in that burger joint...no, not really. I walked out full and happy. I was glad to eat there. Or was I?
Later that afternoon my stomach was yelling all sorts of things. It was not happy. That night I attempted dinner. I made myself ginger tea and took echinacea. What is happening? I laid in bed for the next week and made frequent trips to my porcelain friend living in the bathroom. We became quite close. I barely ate and drank ridiculous amounts of water. When I finally set aside my stubbornness to see the doctor, I found out that I had, in fact, had a parasite. It was near the end of it's run by then, so I just waited it out. After getting back to normal (sort of) I decided the Ferg was infamous in my book, just not in a good way.
