Five luxury suites in the main lodge, four self-catering cottages scattered through the woods. Every one of them faces something worth waking up to.
The largest of the lodge suites, set on a stone platform above the creek. Copper-finish bath, candlelit, set into a recess in the stone wall. There's a fireplace you'll actually use in the winter months.
Floor-to-ceiling windows open onto a tangle of yellowwood and tree fern. If you're up early you'll hear (and sometimes see) the bird the room's named after. A favourite for honeymoons and slow anniversaries.
Sister to Narina but with its own door to a small private garden. Same view, different mood — warmer light in the afternoons. Good for guests who want to slip out for a walk without troubling the front desk.
The corner room. Smaller than the others but with the longest sightline — out across the lawn, over the creek, up to the cliffs. The morning light here is something else.
Faces east — first sun in the morning, last to lose it. Quietest of the suites. The walls are a metre of stone; you won't hear a thing.
The most secluded of the four. A short walk through the trees from the main lodge, with its own clearing and creek frontage. Bring your groceries; we'll bring the firewood.
Laura Goss has stayed here three times. So has half her family. The cottage that started the lodge's tradition of guest-named accommodation.
Named for its whitewashed walls and the framed sign over the door. A long-running in-joke that became one of our most-booked rooms. Light, airy, surprising.
Four adults, or two adults and two children. The cottage built for groups who want to come back to the same place every year — the kind of room where children grow up across the photographs in the family album.
All rooms include daily servicing, firewood, and access to the lodge bar and hiking trails. Children welcome — baby cot and a wooden cot available on request.