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Turning left at the Brynderwyns, Jesse Mulligan takes the family back to nature — with a few home comforts thrown in.
New Zealand is a ridiculous country to try to explore. I’ve lived here over 40 years, spent most of my summer holidays in Northland but never thought about the fact that if you turned left at the Brynderwyns instead of going straight, there’s a massive chunk of new territory to discover.
It even looks different to the rest of Northland: kumara fields, massive wide rivers, bright blue lakes with white sand beaches, character pubs and marae scattered in equal quantities along the main road.
It’s one of those regions where even a trip to the g.a.s. station for milk can be a cultural experience, but we were here to get as deep as we could into nature without using a machete.
We turned off the main road, drove to the end of the tarseal and then rattled our way another few minutes into farmland until we lost cellphone reception. This is the point where more intrepid reporters would tell you how they put up their a tent, but our tent was already pitched — built into a deck, actually, next to a permanent kitchenette and a porcelain outdoor bath.
Yes, for their first night in a tent my wife and I were taking our two girls glamping, the equivalent of teaching them to drive in a Rolls Royce. Next summer, when I try to get them to sleep in a pup tent and they ask where the feather duvet is I’ll only have myself to blame.
Glamping has been around for yonks but there’s something about the word that makes it feel new every time you say it. It’s not always glamorous and it’s hardly ever camping, but with the right hint of each you can sleep in comfort but nonetheless feel part of the environment in a way double-glazing can’t provide.
We were set up next to a river, but if we’d been in a hotel room we would never have known it was there.
The four of us drifted off to sleep in the darkness to the reassuring shushurring of water flowing over rocks. “There’s earplugs, if the river is keeping you awake” said our host Tracy, assuming not unreasonably, we were city folk who’d find the sounds of nature unbearably distracting. We only met her by chance, having miscommunicated our arrival time, or we would have come and gone without seeing another human.
The company, Canopy Camping, runs another glamping site a few minutes drive away in the bush, but not close enough that you’re likely to run into a naked German guy in a swimming hole. You might run into a naked eel — I followed Tracy’s instructions and headed to the creek with a torchlight after dark, but spotted only a couple of little fish.
Still, there is a lot of native wildlife about — I spent half an hour spotting rare spiders spinning webs on the tree bark, and we heard kiwi calling throughout the night (you’re bang smack in their habitat, though you have to be equipped with a red torch and a good plan to spot them).
The stream is fun to hop around but to cool off during the day you’re better to visit Kai Iwi lakes where, Tracy reckons, if you squint your eyes you can almost believe you’re in the tropics. She’s right, Pine Beach in particular is notable for its fine white sand, and water the kind of blue that sells plane tickets in winter.
It would have been nice to have that beach to ourselves and I suspect most days you would, but we’d booked the same weekend as a scout jamboree. We squinted a little tighter to try to block out the 150 pre-teens doing an ironman through our otherwise Instagram-perfect spot.
Back at the glamping site there is a chilly bin and enough kitchen supplies to prepare whatever groceries you can be bothered bringing. We had sausages and salad, but if you don’t feel like cooking you could drive back up the road and eat at the pub on the corner — it comes recommended.
We spent the evening in front of a brazier and later lay in bean bags, watching for shooting stars. In theory you could do that at home — but have you ever?
Sometimes you need a drive and a tent to nudge you into enjoying the nature around you.
On a peak weekend you’d be lucky to get there in three hours from Auckland, and ideally you’d stop in Maungatoroto or Paparoa for coffee on the way.
I reckon two nights would be perfect and if you can’t manage that you should at least try to arrive in the area by lunchtime and take advantage of the noon checkout.
Source: nzherald.co.nz
