Certainly not me. I was staying there for a Monday and Tuesday and didn’t know what could possibly occupy my time since the market is only open on Saturday mornings. Clearly Matakana’s Farmers Market has a very good PR person because 2 days wasn’t long enough to do everything else.

We’re at the end of our swanky 5-day tour of a teeny part of Northland (Waipoua on the west coast, Bay of Islands and now Matakana) and I’ve had a brilliant time exploring the nooks and crannies of this part of the country and acting like a posh tourist.

And I am doing it posh. First 2 nights at Waipoua Lodge, last night at Bay of Islands Lodge in Paihia and today we are heading back to Auckland via 2 nights at Takatu Lodge and Vineyard, just out of Matakana.

Owners John and Heather Forsman originally bought this rolling piece of countryside to produce a Bordeaux-style wine – no additives and minimal intervention. They weren’t planning on the whole luxury lodge thing, but the land pretty much called for it. While John (an airline pilot in between tending to the vines) was busy studying everything needed to make the perfect drop, Heather was researching design and architects. They eventually found Steve McCracken who has helped them build one of the most beautiful, modern and minimalist lodges I’ve seen.

Disclaimer: I confess to loving this style of building anyway. But how can you not want to build your dream home just like this?! Open fire in the huge living room with ceilings as high as the moon. Ten-metre wide French doors that spill onto a patio and the vineyard at the end of the front lawn, and the kitchen fully involved in the middle of the hospitality.

It’s deceptive though when you arrive. We pulled into the stone courtyard where two guest suites flank both sides of the front door and to be honest, it’s lovely but doesn’t prepare you for what it’s hiding. Open the huge wooden door and the wide hallway stretches out like an infinity pool dropping into the view of the vineyard and hills beyond. Okay, I’m raving here, but it’s flippin’ cool!

John and his cohort, winemaker Herb Friedli (who also makes wine for Waiheke vineyards Te Whau, Kennedy Point and Poderi Crisci) are more about taste than quantity. In fact John confessed to not being able to look when the workers prune most of the grapes off to allow the sun to ripen only the best ones.

But the result is award-winning wine that Peter Gordon, for one, has snapped up for his London restaurant Providore. They have 9000 vines of red, 5000 of pinot gris and their dry rose is deliciously non-sweet. Of course, as guests, we got to sit in the late afternoon sun with an antipasto platter and taste them, along with a posh couple from England who were on their grand New Zealand adventure.

But this isn’t such a posh lodge that you can’t wear Hawaiian boardies and bare feet to breakfast (as the aforementioned English gentleman did). It’s homely and Heather and John are genuinely interested in their guests.

The rooms each have enormous bathtubs under French windows with views of the vineyard, a CD player (with a selection of great discs that we loved so much we went away and bought one), a super-king bed with 500-thread count linen and fresh coffee to make our own brew.

That night we took Heather’s recommendation and dined in Matakana at Tapiano Bar and Bistro, or we could have poodled along to Leigh to Sawmill Café the other way. But we’ll save that for next time.

Takatu Lodge & Vineyard, 518 Whitmore Road, Matakana
www.takatulodge.co.nz

#blog4nz

Scandinavia’s most famous Ice Hotel is in Swedish Lapland and Canada has the Quebec Ice Hotel. They’re made by packing ice and snow together into incredibly elaborate designs and last about 4 months (December to April) until they melt away for spring. You can expect temps from minus 6 up to a balmy zero degrees celsius (that’s 21 – 32 farenheit). Some have ice bars and restaurants with ornate ice sculptures and glassware made from ice. (No your lips don’t stick to the glass because funnily enough the air is dry.) Some have hot tubs on private decks so you can soak in warm water while all around you freezes.

You will be provided with sub-zero sleeping bags (oh joy) and your ice beds will likely be covered in reindeer skins, but you should wear thermals and pack a big polar fleece. And here’s a tip: pack your clothes in the bottom of your sleeping bag so you can get dressed Mr Bean-style into warm clothes in the morning. Personally, I’d be sleeping in tomorrow’s clothes already. It’s also wise to book a warm room in the main hotel if it doesn’t come with your package, that way you can use it to change, shower, toilet and scamper to in the night if you can’t hack it.

Ready for bed?

Here’s a couple to check out:

Sweden’s Ice Hotel has been chilling guests for 22 years in Lapland (the home of Santa). It has an ice sauna and a stunning, sparkly chapel so perfect for a white wedding. And if you’re really lucky you’ll get to see the northern lights (which are on my Bucket List).

Hotel de Glace in Quebec City, Canada opens Jan 6 until March 25 2012. This has the hot tub suite (a must for me). You’ll get a tour of the whole hotel before you check in and can see each artistic design in every room.

Everyone is related to someone over here on the atoll of Fakarava. I’m on a small motor boat heading across the 65km long, rectangular lagoon to a teeny, sandy outcrop for a picnic.

The perfectly clear sea makes it awkward to pee

The captains’ cousin is the man in question and he’s doing the driving. When we wade ashore, I find myself more intrigued in the two of them catching up conspiratorially under a palm tree on this island, barely big enough to swing a cat, than staring in wonder at the perfection of this little piece of paradise.

Coco, our English-speaking Chinese-American guide who was born in Tahiti and is the third member of our hosting party, gathered some dried coconut leaves (yes that’s how he got his nickname – climbing trees like the huge coconut crabs he told me about). He made a fire and the two chilly bins that he, the captain and our escapee driver carried to the spot, revealed their cargo of a table cloth and plenty of delicious food courtesy of the White Sand Beach Resort – the only hotel on the island. Today we’ll be having barbecue steak, fresh raw fish salad, bread rolls, and fruit washed down with a chilled bottle of rose.

Apparently the gendarmerie are due to arrive tomorrow and our guy either has to find a place to hide on this island which is home to less than 900 people on the skinny piece of coral-sand about 500m wide wrapping the enormous lagoon. Expelled for drunkenness by the mayor, I find it rather odd that he’d come back and drive the boat in such an overt way, perched like he was a Thai mahut on his elephant.

After lunch I chat with Coco and suddenly he notices a small mound of sand about half a kilometre away. Fakarava’s newest motu, he announces. It wasn’t there three months ago. As soon as a coconut washes up and sprouts, you’ve got yourself another island, he says. I’ve never understood how people can date islands at millions of years old, and when you see a new island forming before your eyes, it makes you wonder if this world is a lot younger than we are led to believe.

After lunch and the family pow wow is over we get back onboard and head to the tiny village of Tetemanu. I don flippers, a snorkel and mask and splash over the side to view the world below. The colour of the sea is impossibly blue. If a painter was to recreate it you’d accuse him of using artistic license with hues of blues to green and back again. In some places it is deep sapphire blue then others, bright avocado green. Peacock feathers are about as close as I can describe it without using cliches like ‘azure’ or ‘turquoise’. It’s so clear that it’s impossible to pee without lagging quite some distance behind Coco and the one other passenger floundering around.

A mountain studded with undersea flora drops into the deep blue darkness below. Fish hang out in their own cultural groups, nibbling on the ‘flowers’ and just generally cruising around. Fakarava is known for its impressive dive sites and this one is a UNESCO preserved marine site. There is no shark feeding allowed on Fakarava because hundreds of them would come – and we’re talking big boys. Up to four-metre long grey sharks, tiger sharks and harmless little reef sharks. Coco said its like swimming through a wall of sharks and you can’t see daylight above you in the water when they all gather.

But the feeding of them was only outlawed three years ago after a tour operator forgot he had one diver left in the water when he dropped a cage of chopped fish into the deep. The frenzy that ensued saw that guy lose a chunk of his leg. Word spread quickly around the motus so no one feeds them anymore.

White Sand Beach Resort

After a fascinating visit to the local pearl farm where I am shown exactly how the famous Tahitian black pearl gets its pink, blue or green sheen, we headed back to White Sand Beach Resort where our private chalets have only electricity for a couple of lights. There is no TV, cellphone coverage or WiFi. It’s perfect.

The sun sets early in Tahiti so after reading a book on my balcony until it is too dark to see I head over to the hotel restaurant before returning to collapse into my comfy bed and can’t help but wonder just how our boat driver is sleeping tonight knowing the gendarmerie is coming tomorrow.

Jump here to Tahiti Tourisme for more information on Fakarava.

Check out flights and special deals here at Air Tahiti Nui.

They include a range of designer hotels, from luxury boutique hotels with all-black walls and bedside copies of the Karma Sutra to hotels with 007 suites for those who like their liasons dangerous and their luxury stays lusty.

Andaz

Andaz San Diego, San Diego, California, USA
Can a suite really be stylish with a stripper’s pole at its centre? We think so. It is all about how you present it.

Crazy Bear

Crazy Bear Hotel, Beaconsfield, UK
This is where English eccentricity meets s-excess and it works.

Fleming House, Goldeneye, Jamaica
Make like 007 in this house built on a cliff, overlooking a beach and designed by Ian Fleming himself.

Hotel Amour

Hotel Amour, Paris, France
Who could resister a hotel called ‘love’, especially when it is in Paris?

Hotel Sezz, Paris, France
There is no denying this is a devil’s lair ripe for raw seduction.

Maison Moschino, Milan
Who’s been sleeping in my bed? Fairytale fantasies take flight in this hotel where beds are dressed as ballgowns and even a Little Red Riding Hood has her wolf tucked up in bed.

Night, New York

Night New York, New York, USA
Black is always sexy right? The nearly-all-black Night New York hotel, in the heart of Midtown Manhattan, was inspired by the ‘pulse and passion of Gotham after dark’. Sounds promising.

The Library Hotel, New York, USA
A hotel which bases itself on books may not seem that sexy (hey, didn’t you know the mind is the real erogenous zone?) but wait until you see the books….

The Palms

The Palms, Las Vegas, USA
Hugh-Hefner inspired dreams, come true at The Palms – for a price.

Seven

The Seven Hotel, Paris, France
Floating beds, starry ceilings, mood lights, the 007 suite ..so many reasons to include this one ..

For more information and websites for each hotel, jump to The Luxury Travel Bible story.

Owner and master chef Peter Meier came over from the Hunter Valley, where he had been the legendary award-winning chef at Casuarina, and built this two-storey lodge in 2005. Over there he was known as the Flambe King and would cook your meal right at the table!

These days it’s a little more relaxed. More about mixing with other guests who are staying in the four guest rooms with an infinity pool that drops off into the ocean views.

Wine/food/lifestyle/travel are what Peter (originally from Germany) and his Kiwi wife Glennis are all about. They don’t actually live on the premises but must keep very long hours waiting on those who do. They were here to serve a continental and cooked breakfast this morning on the veranda and right through the day for those of us who’d booked in for dinner.

When we arrived (after a quick squiz at Waitangi and a perusal through Paihia) Peter was in the kitchen preparing the evening’s hors d’oeuvres. These are served with complimentary wine at happy hour which is the opportunity to meet fellow guests and pick their brains about New Zealand.

Dinner is served at one big table and the food placed in the middle family-style to help yourself. Asking for the seared beef from the guy across from you is a natty way to break the ice – or any ice that hadn’t already been broken over a drop of local sauv.

Their wines are “middle of the road”, as Peter described them – in other words, affordable so he keeps it flowing all night at no extra charge. In fact when we arrived Peter delivered a bottle of Stoneleigh Pinot Gris to our room, which we sipped overlooking views to Russell and twirling in circles to take it all in.

Peter doesn’t cook every night, so when he doesn’t he sends guests to the local cruising club for a cheap and cheerful meal in nearby Opua. But tonight he was cooking. Four courses of simple, local fare.

We started with scallops served in a scallop shell, old-fashioned style, sitting on a leek and potato mash with butter and wine sauce, followed by seared beef and stir fried veges placed on two large platters for the seven of us.

I thought we were done and had luckily kept room in my pudding stomach, when out came seared salmon on a saffron risotto with bok choy and hollandaise sauce. It was too delicious to resist so I made a solid attempt.

Aah, but as we all know, the pudding stomach stays well away from savoury repleteness so I was able to gobble down most of my vanilla bean pannacotta on a strawberry and passionfruit coulis.

And just when the conversation was getting louder, the meal nicely sitting in our bellies and firm friendships forged (at least for the evening) out came a bottle of Kirschwasser. This is supposed to be a German digestive, Peter assured me. Yeah right! It was like methylated spirits and he was in grave danger of undoing all his good work behind the stove, to my mind.

Yep, it’s an idyllic spot up here. The lodge is positioned for the sunrise while native birds gaily do their thing in the bush below. Touristy Paihia is just a five-minute drive down the road and quaint Russell is a short ferry ride across the bay.

And Peter’s quite happy for his guests to hang out in the main kitchen/dining room and watch him cook, “as long at they don’t annoy me,” he said with a grin. Having said that, the wry German will be running cooking classes during the winter for guests and I can only imagine what will happen when the Kirschwasser comes out of an evening…

Bay of Islands Lodge, State Highway 11, Opua, Bay of Islands www.bayofislandslodge.co.nz

With all due respect to the West Coast – it was quite possibly the most boring few days of my life. Except for the glass blowing in Hokitika. Today, with a grown-up appreciation of wine and the quaintness of New Zealand that kids can only wonder what their parents are on, I probably should return.

But it’s true that everything comes back into fashion again, albeit with a slightly different twist. Just like 80s fashion and music is back in the shops (yes, even the shoulder pads) ‘seeing the country’ has come back around. But the term now is ‘staycation‘.

Staycation is the buzz word for not just recession holidays, but those who wonder what all those hundreds of thousands of tourists come here for each year. A staycation doesn’t mean hanging round at home doing 1000-piece jigsaws, it means – in my case anyway – jumping in the car and heading to Northland for five days to be a tourist in my own country.

We set off crawling through Friday afternoon Auckland traffic to Waipoua Lodge, a little piece of luxury on the edge of the Waipoua Forest – home to the mighty kauri Tane Mahuta. Dinner was going to be prepared for us, but due to a couple of motorway accidents (not us!) we were only arriving in Whangarei at 8pm so had called ahead to let our hosts know.

Waipoua Forest is on the west coast of Northland just past Dargaville. Again, I can only wonder why you’d live in Dargaville. Dragaville, someone unkindly called it. However it was dark, so giving it the benefit of the doubt we planned to return the next day and have a proper look. Meanwhile our Scottish host and chef Gordon McEwen had given me directions over the phone: if we went in to the forest we’d gone too far. We went too far.

But happily, after a 3-point U-turn on the shingle road, we pulled up at the really gorgeous Waipoua Lodge (the outside light was on just as Gordon had promised) set in native bush and met he and his wife Elisabeth, managers of the lodge.

Owners Chris and Nicole Donahoe bought the historic kauri homestead in 2003 and after extensive renovations have made the most of the morning sun in the breakfast room and long afternoons on the back porch or library/sunroom overlooking the garden, where a few rabbits played, and forest. The history is preserved in open fireplaces, high ceilings and native floorboards, as well as fascinating photographs and newspaper stories framed on the walls of the main lodge.

There are four self-contained apartments, or cottages, each uniquely different with high quality linens, claw-foot bathtub and separate shower, a living area opening onto a veranda, and kitchenette (although breakfast and dinner is included). Our cottage was the closest to the spa pool set in the forest with moreporks keeping us company. The key to privacy is simply hanging your towel over the gate and other guests will wait their turn.

And still on the topic of buzzwords, sustainability is important to NZ tourism these days. Waipoua Lodge joined the Northland Sustainable Tourism Charter in 2005 which is all about businesses being committed to sustainable practices that ‘protect and enhance the natural, cultural, social and economic development.’ They use eco-friendly products in the kitchen and bathrooms, grow organic food, use local suppliers where possible, recycle and the list goes on…

But the bottom line is, we loved it. It was quiet, peaceful, luxurious. The food was delicious. The hosts were incredibly friendly and helpful with ideas of things to do the next day and I’d definitely return for a special occasion or a weekend escape.

Waipoua Lodge, State Highway 12, RD6 Dargaville
www.waipoualodge.co.nz

Flying bed at Propeller Hotel

Berlin: Propeller Island City Lodge. Famous for its sexy rooms apparently, including this one where the bed appears to by flying!

Rome: Suite Sistina. Even the first website pic is sexy with a couple spooning under messed up sheets. You can also get intimate dinners in your room. Antique mosaics, modern furniture, close to all the romantic Roman attractions…

London: The Hempel. How about a night in the Lioness Den where the bed is hanging from the ceiling by metal bars and tealight candles are all around it?

Amsterdam: Black Tulip. Famous for its Lust Rooms and ‘fun equipment’. Although it’s going to be closed from March 31 for rennovations and it looks like the current owners are moving on.

Prague: Buddha Bar. The 1st Buddha Bar Hotel is now open. Check out the sexy whispery song on the website and pics of Asian opulence.

They also voted the Arts Hotel in Barcelona, but I don’t reckon it’s that sexy…

In fact the whole toll road business was a bit of an anti-climax. I was expecting some sort of fanfare. Maybe a powhiri as I crossed from the original road onto the new one? But no. Not a toll booth, not even a sign heralding my entrance. If you had been keeping your eyes closed – or on the road which would be safer – you could miss the fact that you got on and then suddenly were off after whizzing through a tunnel. However, it is very easy and fast and for $4 for a return trip once in 15 years, it’s worth it.

The Gumdiggers cottage

Mangawhai is a hidden gem that only those with baches up there or ones who have spent years secreting away on family camping holidays seem to know about. This blog is to blow their cover and let you in on it. I stayed at the very cute, very rustic and very secluded Milestone Cottages at Mangawhai Heads. These were built by the owners – Gael McConachy and Box Milestone who started a B&B here in 1991 and by 1996 had built 6 individual cottages on the 4 acre property that leads down to the sea. Actually Box built them and Gael runs the business.

Each wooden cottage is self contained with a kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, balonies and their own gas BBQs. I stayed in Gumdiggers with views of the Mangawhai estuary and wandered down to the beach, past the flowering pohutukawa to paddle in the incoming tide.

Along the way I passed the yurts. No, I had no idea either. A yurt is a circular hut covered in felt wool and most commonly found in Mongolia and Kazakhstan. Makes perfect sense to find one in Mangawhai then. They have detailed wooden framing like an umbrella leading up to an open circle in the roof, each piece of wood is hand painted and they are typically lined with felt and canvas. However in the humid climate of New Zealand, Gael explained that they become smelly (like a wet dog I’m imagining) so these particular yurts, imported from Mongolia, are lined with building paper and weather-proof canvas, but still have the traditional the felt roof. At Milestone Cottages the yurts are used for yoga retreats and meditation. There are 2 of them side by side surrounded by a wooden deck that drops away into the native bush overlooking views of the Hen and Chickens islands. Milestone Cottages also have a conference room that can take up to 30 delegates and swimming pool hidden in the extensive gardens.

The bottom of the garden

It was a stunning Friday evening so I sat in my own personal courtyard and quaffed a cheeky sauvignon blanc with my girlfriends as the sun set and we barbecued sausages and wrapped them in white bread with plenty of Watties sauce. Brilliant. Then followed up with cheeses from the local Kaiwaka Cheese Shop and strawberries. It was one of those idyllic moments in life when you tell your brain to take a picture so you never forget.

Mangawhai is very arty. You’ll find galleries selling wacky and stunning bits and bobs for indoor and outdoor decoration. I popped in on the Saturday market where the locals meet in the town hall to peddle their wares – fresh flowers, oils, clothing, jewellery and right now, Christmas decorations and loads of pressies. Just down the road is Bennetts of Mangawhai, the chocolatiers (who have free tastings and I was tempted to do a 2nd lap around the shop to have another boysenberry chocolate) and a cafe, Bennetts Cafe, from which I can highly recommend the mushrooms on toast with grated parmesan and rocket.

Umm, is this fish supposed to wash up at Mangawhai?

PS – I just logged into www.tollroad.govt.nz and they already knew I had been back and forth and owed them $4. For some things there’s Mastercard…

Milestone Cottages, 27 Moir Pt Road, Mangawhai Heads Ph +64 9 431 4018 www.milestonecottages.co.nz

I flew into Ballina from Sydney, picked up a car at the airport and proceeded to head north toward Byron Bay. Inconveniently the signs coming out of the airport direct you either left to Ballina or right to Tweed Heads. Nothing said Byron Bay and nothing said north. I chose left because that was only 2kms away – and as per usual, got it wrong. But at least I found someone within 10 minutes who could put me right.

The next navigational trick is to know that Gaia is in a tiny farmlet community near Bangalow and is a sudden left off the motorway before you get to Byron Bay. If you get to Byron Bay you’ve gone too far. I went too far.

Feeling like MaGoo I phoned Gregg Cave – Gaia’s other co-owner and Olivia’s bosom buddy who pretty much grew up with her – and he gave me directions back. Arriving exhausted, frazzled and in need of Nurofen, I was also clearly in need of some of the relaxing tonic this place is renown for. And man, did they deliver.

First I had the healthy organic lunch platter that was on the menu for today. A selection of delicious hummus, beetroot spread and something else the hippies in these parts live on. Accompanied by wholemeal pita bread and a salad grown in the garden. No wine allowed at lunch time, but organic wine is on the menu for dinner.

People come here to detox, relax, retreat and can embrace the nutritional lessons, yoga, meditation, spa treatments and eating plans – or not. Only smoking is not allowed on site.

I was in a semi embracing state of mind now that the headache had gone, so after lunch I toured the property with its sweeping views over the Byron shire (such a quaint name) and cosied up on a day bed in the sun before joining a bunch of fellow detoxers for an organic cooking lesson with chef Todd Cameron. Very delicious is a statement he uses often and very delicious was the macadamia nut satay sauce he prepared – and which I have already practiced at home with prawns. (If you want the recipe, just make a comment below and I’ll post it up – this blog is getting mighty long and I haven’t got to the incredible spa yet…)

There are 35 spa therapists and I’m not going to lie, I experienced the best treatment in my life here. These guys (and girls) are not only masseurs but “healers”, Gregg told me. A treatment here is an holistic experience and I tried their signature Body Polish and Massage.

This is not actually me - but it could be!

I was quite unprepared for the steam room and water experience. I lay on the bed in a room with showers and a sarong for modesty, then the room filled with steam. (I kept peeping from under my eye mask until the room was white-out and my skin was wringing.) Tamara, my healer, then weaved her way in to start the exfoliation. I had chosen the wattle seed scrub made from seeds picked on the property, mixed with lemon myrtle and oils whereupon she scrubbed all my dead skin cells off and I was left to marinate for another ten minutes while the room turned white again.

In she came this time dressed in a lycra/swimsuit dress and with a hand-held shower, massaged the seeds off and worked the oils into my skin. It was truly sublime and I almost wished I could be bed-ridden for life if this was what bathtime was like! But the hour-long kahuna massage that followed with long, relaxing Hawaiian strokes tipped me into nirvana.

It was 6pm by the time I staggered out for a wine and a chat with Gregg then drove the ten minutes to Byron at Byron (you can read that review here).

For the full comprehensive guide to Aussie, check out Australia.com.