Travelogue New Zealand 3: Waiheke Island

WAIHEKE ISLAND
5-7 February 2016

The whole trip had come about because Bronwyn, my most long-standing (we now shy away from the word “oldest”) friend, hatched the plan for an epic 40th birthday weekend with about a year’s worth of notice so we had time to plan. We (probably) would have gone anywhere, but her choice of destination made the choice a no-brainer. Bron had also done all the admin and bookings for the weekend so really all we had to do was pitch up in Auckland.

We’d been included in the ‘family’ plan so would be staying at a bach with Bron and James, Aunty Lorraine and her friend Di (“The Mothers”) and Tyron (Bron’s brother) and Helena and their baby, Tyler.

The term “bach” – so we were told – stems from the word “bachelor’s”, as in “bachelor pad”, and was used where men had accommodation away from the family home. In older times it possibly implied a modest dwelling, but nowadays the term apparently carries no size reference, nor implication of modesty from what we saw and experienced.

Bron and James were super organised and had sorted all sorts of groceries and drinks to take along for the weekend so they took their car across (with all our luggage) on the vehicle ferry, pairing us with The Mothers on the 09h30 passenger ferry. The ferry ride sails across the harbour and past Auckland’s largest volcano, Rangitoto. The passenger boats are comfortable, fast and frequent making the half hour odd experience a painless one.

I’d grabbed a couple of pamplets at the ferry port to do some last minute research and found out that Waiheke Island is “the jewel in the crown of the stunning Hauraki Gulf”. The name comes from the Maori language meaning “cascading water”, although the island is now equally well known for its world-class wines, freshly pressed olive oils, cuisine and art. It’s a lot bigger than we expected, with 133km of diverse coastline dotted with coves, inlets, beaches and walkways. All good to know.

Bron had updated us when they arrived to say that we couldn’t check into the bach yet so we were in no rush and opted to walk the 20 minute distance to get to Oneroa Village (what the island’s locals refer to as “town”) rather than catch a bus or taxi. You can’t often go wrong taking a walk along a road when it is named “Ocean View”.

We used the rest of the waiting time wisely to grab a brekkie at the Beach Club restaurant and browse in the generous handful of shops in the main hub.

Soon enough it was time for check in so we reversed our journey to walk up Ocean View road to the bach Bron had chosen for its convenient location across the road from the party venue for the following night.

Our bach was large and luxurious, with 4 double bedrooms leading off a spacious open plan entrance hall. The other half of the house was plushly carpeted lounge and sitting room, diningroom and large kitchen with centre island and bay windows overlooking the vineyard neighbour that stretched across the valley and infinitied into the sea beyond. A wide verandah lipped the house, dotted with comfortable couches, loungers, table and chairs and a suspended wicker egg chair. The front shared the perspective and view with the kitchen; the back looked onto a gravel courtyard with jacuzzi, outdoor patio and pizza oven with a backdrop view of Cable Bay wineries on the hilltop opposite.

We had a grand old time settling in, wanting to sit on every couch, lounger and – most of all – the egg chair. The day had also gone from the morning’s overcast to a fine drizzle so there was no incentive to leave our luxury sanctum.

Bron had some guests that had followed our thinking and made a weekend of it, and she’d invited them around to our bach for a Friday evening braai. Since we had an outdoor pizza oven as well, we had to use it, and soon had a production line going loading pizza bases with delectable combinations of toppings as starter snacks. Christian did a top job single-handedly manning the braai and delighting with rare rump fingers to whet the appetites for full grill he masterfully managed to have ready all at the same time.

The house was perfect for entertaining and there was a natural flow of people between the verandah, through the living area and kitchen, and spilling out to the jacuzzi and around the pizza oven. It was great to meet Bron’s Auckland friends and get to spend some time getting to know each other in anticipation of the big event the next day.

Saturday morning launched with the opening of presents! Bron languished over the mountain of gifts laid out on the table on the verandah and everyone ooo’ed and aaah’ed as each new treasure was revealed.

The rituals set back breakfast a bit, but Tyron (a chef by trade) hit the kitchen to make eggs benedict for all of us. The other bachful of guests had by this time arrived so poor Ty was posted at his pot on the stove for quite some time poaching 30 eggs the authentic way to feed the hungry masses.

The weather wasn’t great, but spirits were high so we all went down to Oneroa Beach. The sun was covered by the clouds and there was intermittent drizzle, but not enough to dampen our enthusiasm – and the people swimming were wet already anyway!

Christian and I then did a breakaway from the group to sneak in a wine-tasting at Cable Bay. It seemed the neighbourly thing to do since we’d been admiring them as our view since we got there – and we had to pass the entrance on our way home anyway so the odds were stacked in our favour to make it happen.

Waiheke’s climate is hotter and drier than the mainland and the ocean acts as a fan and an insulator providing a longer, warmer season and more moderate temperatures. This is why there are more than 30 different wine-makers on the relatively small island and the overall general quality of the wine is so good. The Cable Bay winery and cellars were very busy. Hardly surprising for a Saturday when it’s so easily accessible from the city. We sampled the wine, which was (almost) as good as the view!

By the time we got home it was time to get ready for the party. The ladies were already well underway, but the boys were blissfully unfettered about time, lounging in the jacuzzi.

I helped Bron with her finishing touches then threw myself together and we headed back out the driveway and across the road to Mudbrick Estate, which is where the party was to be held.

Lots of guests were already there, all “dressed to impress” as the dress code had called for. The venue was beautiful and shared the view we had from the bach but, being further up our hillside, there was just more of it from that vantage point and with the silhouette of the Auckland skyline on the horizon across the bay the whole effect was breath-taking.

Bron’s party had been allocated an outside terrace and a function room for (later) formalities and jovialities. The wine flowed and guests mingled as naturally with new friends as with old, so it was a really good vibe. The estate’s catering was as excellent as the wine and the format of finger foods and nibblybits worked well with the relaxed atmosphere and allowed everyone opportunity to appreciate the gorgeous sunset.

Bron also had a DJ lined up, who kicked in as it got dark and got the guests bopping with a playlist of Bron’s favourite tunes interspersed with popular crowd-pleasers. Bron, Tyron and I all said a short speech, but otherwise it was all fun and festive “kick off your shoes” from there.

Needless to say, we were there until closing and a bit beyond. Even though the stars seemed closer and brighter than they ever are at home, the driveway was still very dark as we made our way back to our bach in the early hour of the morning. Again we were grateful for Bron’s genius plan so we weren’t among the group of people waiting to get a taxi back to the harbour to return to the city on the last ferry of the night.

Sunday morning was a later start for everyone and once we were up and packed up, we waved The Mothers and Tyron & Helena off (they had an earlier flight so needed an earlier ferry) and walked into the village for some brekkie (conveniently having sent our suitcases down in Bron’s car).

As a last hurrah we did a midday cheeky bottle of Dog Point cab sauv at The Oyster Bar before it was time to get to the ferry and bid fond farewells and make all the “see you soon” promises we need to make to endure the parting of ways.

From there it was really easy to grab the Skybus from across the road from the ferry port to the airport. $16 and 45 minutes later we were at the airport, due to start our long journey home. We were obviously in much better stead for the great trek home as this time Christian didn’t set off the alarms as we walked through the security scanners. He had done so in Sydney where the combination of the heat and the rucksack he was carrying had left him with a sweaty patch down the middle of his back that set off the sensors and required a pat down. The security man was quite sheepish when he realised the source of concern.