Waiheke Island makes a wonderful winter getaway for a budget family holiday. To make the dollars stretch, you’ll want to ditch the tourists and follow the locals, writes Anna Sarjeant.
The last time my soon-to-be husband and I visited Waiheke Island, it was very early on in our relationship. We slung a backpack over his shoulder, a two-man tent over mine and bussed it from the ferry terminal to Poukaraka Flats Campground. We barely spent $100. By the end of our three-day trip, the future father of my child made an observation. Not a man to mince his words, he told me I was feral.
I was elated. Having lived solely in a bikini and shorts, bathed in the sea and worked the grease in my hair into a messy topknot, I believed I’d reached the pinnacle of bohemian, cool-girl status. Low maintenance, if you will. Or feral - but that’s just semantics.
Fast forward five years and we’re still a pair of scroungers looking for the cheapest way to an adventure. The obstacle we now face is our 1-year-old son. Turns out children require a certain – safe – level of comfort. One way beyond long drops and unrefrigerated sausages.
With that in mind, we retired the camping gear and boarded a midweek ferry to Waiheke Island having made a two-night reservation at Waiheke Island Motel. Max is under 5 so he travels for free on Fullers ferries and we had off-peak open return tickets which cost less than $25pp. That alone will save you some bob to splash out on a mattress.
By the time we reached Matiatia Wharf, I was keen to get off. The sailing was calm but my initial jubilance at securing front-row seats abruptly ended when I bounced Max into the air (fun) and knocked his head on the ceiling (not so fun) – in front of a boatload of people. Keen to keep a low profile, we dived into Ahipao, Waiheke Island’s only knitwear mill, complete with cafe and garden bar.
It’s a three-minute walk from the harbour and boasts the perfect Waiheke trifecta: sea views, outdoor seating and beanbags. We settled in for an early lunch in between the mill’s traditional looms. It’s as aesthetic as a vineyard but food prices hover around the $20 - $25 mark.
Our stomachs full, we took the opportunity to walk into Oneroa, the largest suburb of Waiheke, later jumping on the island’s Hop-On Hop-Off tour bus to our motel in Ostend. This is where it pays to get savvy with your numbers. The bus is part of Fullers360 and there are various ferry plus tour combinations for a more cost-effective trip. The route also facilitates Waiheke’s extensive wineries and eliminates the need for a designated driver or a wad of reddies for extortionate taxis. We, however, had a restless baby in tow, so we forwent the vineyards and allowed the rumble of the double-decker to lull our little one to sleep.
The previously mentioned two-man tent weighs less than 2kg and that’s where the accolades end when compared to Waiheke Island Motel. If you want a budget home-away-from-home with self-catering facilities and a convenient central location, it’s just the ticket. Countdown is on the doorstep; cots are provided and there’s a generous continental breakfast in the fridge.
Come 5pm we contemplated knocking up a spag bol on the hotplates, but a quick google confirmed the Putiki Hub Thursday night market was a seven-minute walk away. Small and atmospheric, sandwiched between the houses on an unassuming Ostend street, the market feels like a local secret. You could count the number of tourists on one hand – three, and one of us was in a buggy. Live music and fairy lights added to the ambience as the sun set and a large crowd gathered.
We perched on tree stumps and ate Mexican quesadillas from Waixican. Max stole half of my mac and cheese, and then half of my lemon tart: a new recipe developed by Two Hands Chef Pasta that I agreed – selflessly – to taste test. There are more food options and a scattering of stores, interspersed by mingling locals and children reconvening after school. It’s clear these markets are a weekly ritual for Ostend residents. I felt both privileged to be invited and quietly envious that this community is not my own.
The following day we do not wake to glorious sunshine. Nor do we wake to daylight. Max is up and raring to go by 5am and no amount of milk will sedate him. By 9am, we’re sat in Ritual cafe, practically next door to the motel nursing our fatigue with coffee and vegan cake. Yoga classes and retreats are also on the agenda here, but not for us. Max has half a leg in the dogs’ water bowl before we hastily throw him over a shoulder and climb back onto the Hop-On Hop-Off bus. Next stop, Onetangi Beach.
It’s grey and windy but not unpleasantly so, such is the magic of a beach in late autumn. I can picture Onetangi as a golden delight during the summer but today it’s brooding. We walk the length of the beach, stopping to climb driftwood before a short walk into the bush to an elevated viewpoint. As they say, the best things in life are free.
We have a baby who spent much of his first six months small and premature, but upon discovering food became obsessed and gargantuan. Appetites lead us into Charlie Farley’s on the beachfront; we daren’t keep him from a plate of pasta one minute longer.
Dubbed a Waiheke institution since 1987, I doubt this iconic beach bar is ever quiet. Staff dance from table to table like busy worker bees and we sit indoors, sheltered from darkening skies. Wagyu burgers and tuna poke satisfy the adults while Max demolishes the largest “children’s meal” he’s been presented in life thus far. Spaghetti bolognese, chips, cucumber slices, tomato halves and a chocolate brownie. Coming in at an economical $15 and worth every cent for putting him in a food-induced coma.
Sometime around 3pm, the heavens open and we admit defeat. The afternoon had promised lawn boules at Waiheke Bowling Club but not in this weather. Instead, we head over at 5pm for dinner and drinks. With cheerfully cheap prices, the lounge is already providing respite for local families staying out of the downpour. Save for the children in wellies and rain Macs running up and down the lawn; undeterred by a drenching. Paulie’s Kitchen, albeit separate from the club (no membership required), is located inside. Run by Paul Patterson, a chef with a career spanning 23 years, he’s recently returned from France and put down roots in Waiheke. While battling with a second bout of island envy, we’re presented with mountainous plates of sticky ribs, calamari and drumsticks: perfect wet-weather food. By 6pm live music creates additional cosiness but Max is getting restless and the motel beckons.
The next morning, I’m discombobulated. I have no idea what day it is but our midweek getaway is culminating with Waiheke Ostend Market, so it must be Saturday. Located opposite the motel, both indoors and out, the market has been running for almost 50 years; come rain or shine. Today is the latter but the turnout remains strong. I’m instantly drawn to the mug station. One of the many initiatives the market implements to augment sustainability. Simply rock up to the coffee cart and skip the bit where you need a takeaway cup. Take cash to stock up on anything from soaps and candles to nostalgic sweets, artisan food and island delicacies. There’s a creative of every ilk at this weekly jamboree and giant almond croissants - among other temptations - make for a cheap eat.
I spent a good 10 minutes chatting with a young lad who makes bespoke carabiner-like key holders with his dad. The original intended use (by Dad) was something he wouldn’t divulge, and I felt for everyone’s sake we best leave it at that. I also had a charming encounter with a husband-and-wife duo, Susann and Jan, originally from Germany and purveyors of organic, artisan bread: part of their Mia Yeast Bakery. A loaf of kumara spelt soon made its way into my shopping bag while we discussed Waiheke’s unwavering sense of community.
On the ferry back to Auckland, two tired parents fell asleep head-to-head. We’d enjoyed our Waiheke adventure on a shoestring budget, but most notably, we enjoyed the heartfelt welcome at every pit stop. For an island renowned for multimillion-dollar houses and wineries, Waiheke’s richest asset remains its community spirit. And that, my fellow scroungers, costs diddly squat.
For more things to see and do in Waiheke Island, visit waiheke.world
Some domestic regional flights have been affected.