I’m not sure that I would ever describe myself as a spiritual person, but on a recent trip up to The Farm, I definitely felt a certain oneness with nature. “The Farm is s a 1000 acre working Dairy farm on the Whangaruru Harbour. For the past 10 years, holiday makers, backpackers, Wwoofers, schools, motorbike mates, horsey people, friends and family have been spending time there, experiencing what life on a farm is all about; working, relaxing, days in the mud, days at the beach, horses, motorbikes, campfires, cows, dogs and kids.”
On a Friday, after an early finish at work, Foo and I started off on the 2 1/2 hour drive up to Whangaruru. We made our way up at a leisurely pace, enjoying the way that the densely populated houses slowly gave way to large expanses of green. We stopped off briefly at Pimarn Thai in Whangarei for dinner, and arrived late at The Farm in the pitch dark. Crawling up the rough clay drive, we were greeted by the bright lights of the farm-house, a dog, and a half-naked man with a guitar. I think if I hadn’t know that we were definitely in the right place, I would have been a bit apprehensive! My brother waved us down, and we followed him over to where home base had been set up.
The first night was really cold, and I was glad to wriggle down inside my sleeping bag, doing my best impression of a cocooned caterpillar. I love everything about staying in the country side. The complete stillness, the way a single bird call seems to carry for kilometers, the freshness of the air, the inky sky with a gazillion stars…
Saturday morning came with a bright blue cloudless sky, and a gentle breeze. The light of day revealed that our campsite was on a flat open piece of lawn/paddock (next to a broken down tractor, a motocross track and some horses), with steep farmland on one side, and dense bush on the other. The relaxed, slightly dilapidated nature of the farm was everything I could have hoped for. Everywhere I looked there was a beautiful rusty something, just waiting to be photographed.
I think if I could be anyone, and do anything, I would love to float from country to country, taking photos and working on capturing the perfect shot, or at least a shot that I am completely happy with. It’s hard to explain the way I feel when I have a camera in my hands, but the closest I can get to it, is a mixture of complete liberation and intense curiosity. Sometimes I feel like I can see the world more clearly when I’m squinting through the viewfinder of my wonderful piece Canon gadgetry.
Whilst I was roaming around indulging my creative side, I surprised myself by randomly striking up a conversation with a guy who was busy with a craft knife and a dead possum. Intrigued by what he was doing, I asked if it was ok if I took some photos, and we got to chatting. Al was a local who lives on a house boat, and it turned out that he was trying his hand at skinning a possum for the first time. One of the guys from the farm had trapped the possum for him, and he was planning on using the skin to make a puppet for his granddaughter. I’m not really sure why, but for some reason the site of a dead animal doesn’t really bother me. It was fascinating to watch Al carefully separate the possum skin from the flesh, pulling with all his strength to remove it from the long thin tail in one continuous piece.
After a day of going our separate ways, the four of us regrouped for dinner, sharing the day’s experiences over large servings of delicious vege stir fry and rice. Foo gave motocross a go, and survived… despite at least 25% of the spokes on the bike’s rear wheel being broken, making it wobble around like it was about to fly off! Marty played coach for Foo, and they got a bit of a ride in together before her bike died, leaving her stranded out in the middle of nowhere. My mum bonded with the horses on a 2 hour trek. I was happy to be able to show off the results of my day spent happy snapping.
On Sunday I got up with the sun… the ground was heavy with dew, and blades of grass stuck to my toes as I walked, flicking up water with every step. The air was cool, and mist blanketed the hills and valleys.
Caught up in the slow, country way of life, we sat sleepily in the sun eating our breakfast. With the knowledge that this was our last day here, Foo and I scraped together some motivation and headed off towards the river for a kayaking adventure.
My absolute favourite thing about The Farm, was Maggie. Maggie is an extremely attentive border collie, who (as smart as she is), didn’t seem to understand the rules of the game ‘fetch’. Time and time again I would throw a stick for her, only to have her disappear with it under the tractor or truck, returning moments later expecting me to throw something else for her! As Foo and I walked along the dirt track to the water, dodging the random piles of horse poo, Maggie lead the way, occasionally looking back to check that we were still following her.
Coming around the last bend in the track, we could see that Maggie was already waiting for us beside the water. We nosed a double open kayak into the water, jumped in, and pushed ourselves away from the muddy bank, under Maggie’s watchful eye. As we slowly paddled our way downstream, I was surprised to see Maggie running along side us! For a bit of a joke I called out to her, asking is she wanted to come for an adventure too, and slapping the side of the kayak to beckon her to us. Next second there was a huge splash as she launched herself off the bank into the water, and started paddling towards us! Somehow, without managing to tip us out, she hauled herself up ont the kayak, and settled down behind me between Foo’s feet. As we made our way slowly along towards the estuary, Maggie rested her head on my shoulder, and contentedly closed her eyes.
I suppose it may seem like a bit of a waste to have travelled all the way to such a potentially action packed place, and then do nothing but relax… but for me it was one of the best weekends I’ve had. I sat is the sun, I wrote, I photographed, I bonded with nature, and I felt completely at peace.
[More photos can be found here]











It was a really fabulous weekend even when my bike broke down. Maggie was something special. I would go up there just to play with her again
LOVE this post, hey! Gutted I didn’t get myself up there before I left, but it looks like you guys had an amazing time.
Yeah, it was a bummer we didn’t make it up there earlier. It was more run down and disorganised than I had expected, but there was something so awesome about how rugged and shambolic it was.
Wow, what an amazing and inspiring post! I’m so sad that we weren’t able to make it as well, your photos are wonderful and now I really want to meet this dog Maggie. Hmm Dr Foo liked the doggie too huh? Maybe Feidi can raise a dog one day
If we ever manage to reach our goal of living somewhere semi rural with a couple of acres, we’d love to have a dog just like Maggie!
Wow! Nice blog post Heidi! I love your vivid descriptions of The Farm and was really inspired to go back to New Zealand and visit this beatiful place.
Your photos are great too, by the way.
Hope to find
Argh, silly iPhone keyboard cut my text and posted the comment. Anyways, thanks for the great read
Thanks Chris! A few of my friends are living I’m London now, and as jealous as I am of their adventures, I don’t think I’d ever trade NZ in for another country… it’s just too beautiful here!