Clean, green city charms
On a trip to Dunedin, Mary de Ruyter discovers wildlife, food and outdoor experiences with an eco-friendly ethos.
When is a tree like a waterbed? That’s not a question you expect to ponder during an urban tour of Dunedin (or ever, really), but there was a good reason for it. When I press my palm to the trunk of a ko¯ tukutuku (tree fuchsia), the wood feels waterlogged and chilly. Like a waterbed with a faulty heater.
Guide Kylie Ru¯ whiu-Karawana laughs at my surprise.
‘‘Yep, tree fuchsias hold a lot of water. Europeans called it the bucket-of-water tree, because they tried to light fires with it and it didn’t work.’’
We’re exploring a remnant of wetland forest at Woodhaugh Gardens, a reserve on the edge of Dunedin’s green belt – a 255-hectare fashion accessory any city would be proud of – on Horizon Tours’ Urban Escape tour.
Ru¯ whiu-Karawana co-founded the company with her sister and their husbands, seeing a gap for tours combining eco-tourism and culture.
For every guest, they donate to community conservation projects, and carry out pest-trapping work on Otago Peninsula.
She’s an entertaining host, whizzing through history, Ma¯ ori legends and botanical knowledge. Even if you’re no stranger to Kiwi bushlore, you’ll learn a thing or two.
For instance: most people know Ma¯ ori used pikopiko (silver fern) fronds for food, roofing and bedding. But did you know they also used it to move quickly through the forest at night? They placed fronds along a path, silver underside facing upwards. The moon reflected off that surface, lighting the way.
Ethical eating
Walking into Ocho (the Otago Chocolate Company), the smell of chocolate hits you like a glorious, toasty-warm, bittersweet wave.
Cadbury may have exited Dunedin, but chocolate production is still alive and well in the southern city.
It’s chocolate with heart, too. When Liz Rowe founded Ocho in 2013, she decided to source beans direct from the Pacific Islands, instead of Africa and South America, to support our Pacific neighbours and reduce Ocho’s carbon footprint.
It’s an accredited Living Wage employer and calculates that it pays its farmers 35 per cent more than the global Fairtrade cacao price.
Our guide Jared tells us craft chocolate is like wine, influenced by climate, vegetation and soil.
We witness the bean-to-bar process, from video footage of farmer co-operatives at work to cacao beans being winnowed, tempered and made into chocolate at the factory.
Sadly, the tasting session is not an all-you-caneat buffet, but it’s a chance to compare apples with oranges (so to speak), and realise how distinctively tasty craft chocolate can be.
In the Warehouse Precinct, Moiety’s five-course dinner menu pairs Japanese techniques and ingredients with mostly seasonal, local ingredients.
The menu frequently changes, so chances are you might not get to try the spectacular blue cod with kale, mirin and lemon gel, or the beautifully balanced cherry, coconut and chocolate dessert.
But there’ll be other delights on offer.
Chef Sam Gasson, and partner Kim Underwood – who runs front-of-house – opened the restaurant in May 2018.
Sustainability is a nuanced concept for them. ‘‘I’d rather support a local, non-organic producer than ship in organic produce from Auckland,’’ says Gasson. They also open the small restaurant just four nights a week to avoid burning out.
Near the harbour at Plato, locally sourced seafood is the hero. If you’re tempted by queen scallops with ouzo and garlic cream sauce, superbly tender pa¯ ua fritters, or kelp-crusted fresh fish, you’re at the right place.
Plato also houses a microbrewery and owner/ chef Nigel Broad’s huge collection of knick-knacks, pictures, signs and more, including enough teapots to brew tea for the whole city.
While Taste Nature has flown the flag for ethical eating since 1992, many cafes now offer conscious
consuming options, from sourcing local, seasonal produce and products, to offering plant-based options. Catalyst, Kind Grocer, Buster Greens Real Food Room, and Market Kitchen all deliver the goods. Bay Rd Peanut Butter sells hot drinks and next-level toast at its tiny factory/cafe.
In the Octagon, Gelato Junkie’s ebullient Leni Bebensee churns up small-batch gelato deliciousness in a variety of flavours, using milk from Oamaru’s The Natural Dairy, and with plenty of plant-based options. Even better, the business uses metal teaspoons for sampling, makes its own waffle cones, and serves gelato in ceramic bowls.
Wildlife central
Have you even been to Dunedin if you haven’t headed out to Otago Peninsula? Seeing albatrosses on the wing, or little blue penguins (korora¯ ) coming on shore each evening is a treat, but now it’s possible to help with conservation work for a morning. On the Tautoko Kaitiaki penguin experience, ecotourism manager Hoani Langsbury takes small groups through what is definitely not a cuddle-and-pose experience. You’ll help with weeding and maintaining the Takiharuru Pilots Beach habitat, checking nest boxes, or helping with weighing or RFID (radio-frequency identification) chipping.
More than 30 years ago, the colony was down to just 12 pairs. This season, as of mid-March, there are 569 chipped adults, and it’s expected 412 chicks will fledge by the end of March. Some adult blues live here year round.
The bay has had other notable visitors. Legend has it that Ma¯ ui pulled in here centuries ago to shelter from a storm. Three paramount chiefs signed the Treaty of Waitangi onboard the HMS Herald on June 13, 1840, in the shadow of Pukekura, the fortified pa¯ on Taiaroa Head.
Today, we’re weighing some six-week-old chicks, and fitting others with RFID chips. There are 350 nesting boxes dotted among more than 15,000 native plants introduced to create a diverse habitat, so it feels like a treasure hunt.
Unsurprisingly, the chicks aren’t impressed with being placed in weighing bags. One makes a break for it and, still inside its bag, sneaks back to its box before it’s retrieved.
‘‘They’re clever birds,’’ Langsbury says. ‘‘They have a level of perseverance and tenacity, and they get less stressed than yellow-eyed penguins. Maybe being at the bottom of the food chain, they just get used to challenges.’’
Holding the wriggling chicks, I’m astonished at how strong their flippers are. In fact, they’re able to swim as fast as a bird can fly. But they’re also the world’s smallest penguin, at 25-45cm high and, on land, they can only waddle as fast as a baby.
There’s no need to calculate your carbon footprint when visiting Orokonui Ecosanctuary’s native critters if you’re going there with Whisper to the Birds (2.8kg of Co2 one way).
Warren Hurley, an eco-tourism veteran, transports small groups in a zippy electric van and guides them around the 307-hectare conservation project, home to a flourishing eco-system of native birds, mammals and small creepy crawlies.
The takahe¯ are in hiding. A tuatara sits in plain sight, so immobile it feels like it’s playing a game of statues with an actual statue. So we wander the bush tracks, warmed by dappled sun.
Three riflemen, which are bundles of pint-sized cuteness, bounce along a branch that barely quivers under their weight. A kaka rips bark off a poor lemonwood tree to get at the sap.
At a feeding station, tu¯ ı¯ jostle to gulp at containers of sugar water.
‘‘See that metal box in the centre,’’ Hurley asks. ‘‘There are pellets inside. The kaka figured out they could sit on the edge to open the box. A few tu¯ ı¯ would be heavy enough to do it, but you’d never get three tu¯ ı¯ sitting next to each other.’’
Judging by all the birdy bickering, that isn’t surprising. They wouldn’t last long on a waterbed either.