Kristen: Stewart Island

What is it that makes islands so special? Perhaps they let us feel as though we can truly step outside our routines to try something new; spaces for experimentation and risk taking. Islands are encapsulated and delineated. They are testing grounds, prisons, sanctuaries, playgrounds. They are proof of travel.

Arriving at Inlet View at Dusk

Stewart Island, an island below the South Island of New Zealand, has tickled my imagination since I first heard of a merino wool clothing company being located there. I always felt that visiting it would be an adventure. In my imagination, the adversity was the biting cold Antarctic winds and rugged accommodation. In reality, the challenges were my aching calves and sea sickness.

The walk to Golden Bay with so many stairs!

Breakfasts at Inlet View

We stayed at Inlet View, on the recommendation of a friend, and relished the chance to play house on an island. The views of Paterson's Inlet were stunning, however the height required to provide the view meant that anytime we left the house we needed to walk uphill to return. After tramping around the island during the day, the flight of stairs to the upstairs bedroom felt like climbing a turret.

Travelling to Ulva Island was so gentle. The ferry was like a step back in time and the weather was soft and forgiving. I could have walked quietly for hours, lingering listening in the dense forest or pausing in the sun along the beaches, but the children were barracking for a return to Stewart Island so we stopped only for birds and a swim at Boulder Beach.

The view from Observation Rock, just up the road. Note the height.

Few people seemed to really enjoy the trip to or from Stewart Island, but perhaps my nausea tainted my perspective. The misery of motion sickness and the risks, overblown in my imagination, of taking children across the Strait, made the Island feel like a reward for adversity.

We left Stewart Island at dawn.

Kirrin Island, that mainstay of childhood fiction, lingers as a memory of imagined picnics, explorations and risk taking. I will remember Stewart Island for endless wet stairways, green glowing forests, sweeping coastal views, and family adventures that all seemed to end with cajoling a child up one last hill.

The tame Kaka that visited daily and fed from our hands.