Kiwi travel is simply the best
Recovering from surgery after a burst appendix recently, and unable to concentrate on reading or Netflix, I spent a ridiculous amount of time scrolling through pictures on Instagram of Koh Phangan.
I spent a few days at a hippyish resort on the southern Thai island said to have inspired Alex Garland’s novelturned-Hollywood-blockbuster The Beach last summer, and have been fantasising about returning since.
In many ways it was your typical Thai-style tropical island break. I swam. I snorkelled. I snoozed on soft white sand, often with a cocktail or open-topped coconut in hand, and stuffed myself with the subtly spicy dishes on offer, developing a dangerous addiction to mango served with mountains of sweet, coconut cream-drenched sticky rice.
I stretched myself to what felt like breaking point in the open-air yoga studio each morning, convincing myself I was ridding my body and mind of pent-up tension, and spied monkeys on a hike through mountains to the closest village. I became so lost on the unmarked track that I worried I’d suffer the same fate as Leonardo DiCaprio’s Richard in The Beach and go crazy trying to learn to live in the Thai jungle.
The latter probably doesn’t qualify as a typical holiday activity for most of you, but I have a tendency to find myself on unforeseen misadventures while travelling.
Fortunately, these have offered enough pleasant surprises to counteract the not-so-pleasant ones so far – in this case a lookout that would have taken my breath away if I wasn’t already winded by the steep climb, and a swim at a stereotypically beautiful palm-fringed beach.
Feeling fragile after my operation, I hoped pictures of the island would mentally take me back. But the uncertainty surrounding when New Zealanders will be able to travel internationally freely again put paid to that.
Moving on to photos from a recent weekend in Raglan though, I realised it had a similar appeal to Koh Phangan.
No, it wasn’t nearly as warm, and the food I enjoyed was Japanese-inspired and classic Kiwi rather than Thai, but the Waikato surf town has a similar eco-bohemian vibe, striking much the same hedonistic and healthy balance.
Staying in a cheap and cheerful Airbnb, I took long walks along the wave-battered black sand beaches and through the surrounding bush, attended a brilliant yoga class at Raglan Yoga Loft, and ate at as many of the crammed cafes and restaurants as I could in two days.
As it was early October, it was too cold to swim without a wetsuit, but watching surfers ride the world’s most consistent left-hand surf break in a scene straight out of Endless Summer was a sweet substitute.
Raglan could be New Zealand’s answer to the freespirited enclave I found in a secluded southeastern corner of Koh Phangan. Or Australia’s Byron Bay.
Reading Brook Sabin’s story on his trip to Aotearoa’s answer to Siberia on pages 34-35, I was reminded how much of what we travel overseas for can be found here. We can’t replicate those experiences exactly, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. As I found on my well-marked Raglan hikes, domestic versions sometimes exceed them.