Mildew, mud and Great Barrier Island 

Great Barrier Island was one of the places we’d been most excited to visit in New Zealand; a rustic, fully self-sustaining island about 50 km east of Auckland. It is storied for its pristine waters, empty beaches and waves and a network of trails winding up, down and all around. In other words, heaven. Ever since the giant rainstorm that closed the Auckland airport, we’d been waiting in limbo to see if we would be able to make it out, but the weather gods were with us, the sun came out and the skies cleared as we hopped aboard a little Cessna Caravan operated by Barrier Air and took the 30 minute flight to the island. Flying in was as spectacular as everyone said, the most incredible turquoise waters contrasted against an almost completely untouched dense green cluster of volcanic mountains surrounded by beaches… We couldn’t wait to get out and explore. There is not much in terms of lodging, restaurant options or food on the island, just a handful of little funky motels, a few general stores and a couple restaurants/roadside food stalls serving up lunch and dinner. We checked into the Pigeon Lodge, our home for the next few days, and were greeted by a sweet old couple lamenting over the chaos of the past week’s rain. When we got to our room you could feel the dampness emanating from the walls and carpet and the smell of mildew and mold hit you like a wall as you opened the door. It almost prompted a gag reflex, but the sun was setting beautifully and we were so excited to be there, we figured we’d open windows, let in a little sunshine and spend as little time as possible in the actual room and all would be good to go. We headed into “town” to grab some fish and chips and a bottle of rosé for dinner while boys ran around and climbed trees, grateful to be out in the sunshine after the past week…it was really quite idyllic. However, just as dinner was finishing up the clouds rolled back in and the rain started to fall again….and for the next 2.5 days it never stopped. Literally. The already saturated land couldn’t hold any more and mud started slipping down the hillsides with roads collapsed under the load. The ocean filled with waste that was washed out of rather ‘unimproved’ utilities from such an overload of water. Brown foam filled the beaches. We were pretty much stuck at the Pigeon Lodge, in all the damp, moldy, mildew, cat pee glory, venturing out only to grab grocery supplies and more wine. We attempted a “hike” in the rain which was more like a wade through mud puddles, shivering and shrouded by fog, but at least the air was fresh and we found a scrumptious burger stand enroute that served as the highlight of the day. The rest of the time we did what we could to occupy the boys, cranking through school and playing so many rounds of “slap” (their favorite card game), holding push up and sit-up competitions to try and burn off some of their little boy energy. To say it was heinous would be an understatement. Each night going to bed Huxley would burst into tears over the smell and how badly he wanted to be in his own bed, or at least a bed that wasn’t wet and didn’t smell like must, and all we could do is promise that we would leave as soon as we could. Luckily on the 3rd day the skies cleared long enough to a plane to fly in and for us to hop aboard and fly out. As we were waiting for the plane we snuck up Windy Canyon, the start of an epic hike to the tallest peak on the island, and it was one of the most beautiful tramping trails we’ve encountered in all of New Zealand. There were stairs and bridges, giant rock races and green canyons as far as the eye could see. Even the boys were heartbroken to have to turn around after just 30 minutes to catch our plane, wishing that the weather had cooperated, and we could have explored all the way to the top. As our plane took off the sun cruelly poked its head back out, once more illuminating the shimmering turquoise and green, and made us swear to each other that we would come back one day, perhaps when New Zealand is not experiencing a 200-year rain event, and spend a proper week surfing, swimming, hiking and exploring the raw beauty that is GBI.

RANDOM RECS

We would NOT stay at the Pigeon’s Lodge again but we were told about the Oruawharo Beach house or cottages and now feel like we need to go back and check them out!

We flew with Barrier Air which operate little Cessna caravan planes and could not have been nicer.

Swallow Burger was a tiny hut that had the BEST burgers and fries….we hid out under an umbrella and devoured them daily.

My Big Fat Puka had good coffee during the day and wood fired pizza at night

Currach Irish Pub was surprisingly delicious! They had wood fired pizza, giant gorgeous salads and very drinkable rosé.

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