The tree's knees
Home » Magazine » Good, issue 1 » The goods » The tree's kneesHorohoro, just outside Rotorua, is home to one of the country’s most luxurious eco-lodges. Francesca Price takes her family to Treetops, and discovers that nature and comfort can be a seductive combination.
Unaccustomed as I am to luxury accommodation, it was with some trepidation that I watched the iron gates of the Treetops Lodge & Estate open before us. Strewn across my old Toyota Corolla are half-eaten snack foods, a jean-clad partner and two very scratchy kids, ready to explode after four hours in the car from Auckland to Rotorua. I hope we’re not going to lower the tone.
We wind our way up a steep driveway edged with thick bush. It’s another three kilometres to the lodge and the weather seems to get colder and mistier at each turn. Finally, we pull up outside the giant rimu doors of the lodge to be greeted by assistant manager Nick Anderson. Our appearance becomes less of a concern when I see he’s covered head to toe in deer shit. The result, he explains, of spending an afternoon trying to free a stag that’s got himself trapped down in the valley. There are no urban pretentions here.
Treetops is the realisation of a dream for owner and property developer John Sax. Ten years in the creation, the lodge is magnificent. All the buildings, windows and doors are made of timber cut from six giant trees that had fallen on the property and were discovered while mapping the site. The central beam in the majestic reception area is 16 metres long and had to be hand-cut, as no mill was big enough to take it.
Eve (4) and Madeleine (5) don their posh party frocks for their luxury stay
Amid the two-and-a-half thousand acres of pristine rainforest are seven streams that provide all the water for the property. The plan is that within the year these streams will also generate the power for the lodge, possibly even feeding back into the national grid.
Nick directs us to our villa, a ten-minute walk (or two-minute buggy ride) from the main building. With the mist settling over the lush valley and the stags roaring in the distance, we could be high in the hills of Africa or Asia.
The kids take their excess energy out cartwheeling on the lawn, while my partner and I settle into reading the papers in front of a roaring fire. With a rainforest at your disposal, wood is in abundance. I decide to indulge in a spa bath and try out the bathroom goodies on offer, justifying the water waste by pulling the kids in with me. It’s not exactly the relaxing experience I was after, but my conscience feels better.
From top: Finding huhu grubs and other bush edibles; Ahhh … cocoa in front of the villa fire.
Once spruced and ready to interact, we take the path through the bush to the lodge. The trees here are up to 800 years old, and walking through them is a humbling and rejuvenating experience—even with hyperactive elves in tow.
At the main lodge, chef Bruce Thomason is preparing the evening meal. He gives me a preview: thin slivers of venison rolled in kawa kawa, a native herb. Like much of the food here, both ingredients are sourced on the property. Excess meat is made into sausages or given to the local community, while all the bones are used for stock.
The children are dispatched to a babysitter and we take our place at the lodge table for dinner. It’s up to you whether to eat alone or join other guests but being the curious type, I chose the latter. The five-course meal is delicious and by the time the conversation moves from climate change to helicopter tourism, I am ready to be rolled onto my golf buggy and driven home.
The next day, we explore the rest of estate. As well as 800 deer, there are water buffalo and wild pigs. These animals form the weed control team—what the deer don’t eat, the buffalo do. Treetops offers many activities from trout fishing to horseback riding. We choose the Maori food trail with guide Charles Royal. Our first mission is to find huhu grubs—wriggling, maggot-like creatures—in a rotten pile of logs.
These, Charles announces placing them into a jar, are lunch.
As soon as we get to the gushing Bridal Veil Falls, he whips out a Primus and starts cooking up some venison, fresh salmon and … the huhu grubs. He offers me one and—loathe to let down three eager faces willing me on—I bite its tail off. My partner and five-year-old quickly follow suit. We all agree that it ain’t too bad—a tasty combo of chicken and peanut butter.
Exhilarated by our bravery, we head back to the lodge to recover. It’s great to get back to nature, to be surrounded by such wilderness, but it’s even better when there’s an enormous fire, comfy couches and a gourmet dinner to look forward to. I might not be accustomed to this sort of eco-luxury—but I’m very happy to become so.
