ADVENTURE TRAVEL

A Visit To The Majestic Southern Alps

By Natasha Bazika

There are luxury lodges, and there is Flockhill Lodge, New Zealand’s new homestead in the Alps of the South Island. Nestled on a working sheep station occupying thirty-six thousand acres in the Craigieburn Valley, I was amid snow-capped peaks, glassy lakes, winding rivers, and dramatic landscapes that have been the focal point of fantastic film sets. However, that is quite different from the good-natured hosts and staff, who set Flockhill Lodge apart from other luxury lodges. I might have arrived as a guest but left as part of the Flockhill family.

The Dalai Lama once called this section of New Zealand “the spiritual center of the universe,” said Lodge manager Andrew Cullen as we cruised along the Great Alpine Highway. “See that over there,” Andrew said, pointing to a hill covered in limestone boulders, which from the road, looked like a flock of sheep. “That’s where the name Flockhill comes from.” A few minutes later, we arrived at the station. The driveway acted as a timeline of the station, from the crumbling 1875 homestead, which was once a backpacker establishment used by local ski fields and hikers in summer, to a construction site erecting the future restaurant and staff village. At the top of the driveway is the present-day building on the station, Flockhill Lodge.

THE LODGE

The four-bedroom homestead, completed in 2019, is a long, thin, barn-style building purposely built by architect Jonathan Coote of the Auckland-based firm Warren and Mahoney to exploit views from every angle. Walk down the narrow hallways to find imposing mountain structures towering over the building, look out onto Lake Pearson and Sugarloaf Mountain from a private bathtub in the bedroom, and witness the low-lying clouds roll in at first light from the lounge room. You can’t help but feel consumed by its serenity.

Made of timber, limestone, and tinted concrete, Flockhill Lodge blends seamlessly into its surroundings. The interior is a delicate balance of rough concrete brutalism and warm chalet timbers, with lush velvet lounges to sink into with a cocktail and statement light fixtures. A cozy den with a vinyl record deck and a hidden wall bar creates a homely atmosphere. There’s a spacious sitting room with books and games, but nothing beats the terrace with a tepid pool, fire pit, and hot spa, primely placed overlooking the best views in the valley. When the sheep stop rustling at night and the valley is silent, the stars blanket the sky, stretching across the pass as far as the eye can see.

A stay at the lodge includes exclusive access to the homestead and a personal chef and attendant preparing a daily breakfast, lunch, and four-course dinner or BBQ. Yet I had the privilege of dining with Andrew and Sandra Cullen, the gatekeepers of the lodge. We sat down as the sun disappeared behind the imposing mountains, clinked our wine glasses, and swapped life stories. Andrew and Sarah are wellversed in the luxury sector, having worked for Aman and, much to my benefit, previously owned a restaurant. Andrew and Sandra’s culinary skills did not fade. Set down before me was a feast of pork belly bites, roasted vegetables, mussels, salmon sashimi, and for dessert, freshly baked brownies. “We just whipped up a few things we had in the pantry,” they said. While the company felt family-style, the food was of a higher standard, something I’d expect at a five-star restaurant. Yet, here we were, nestled between the mountains, in the valley, amongst the majesty of the Southern Alps.

REFINED & RUGGED

After a restful night’s sleep, I reluctantly peeled myself out of the Merino Dreamwool mattress and alpaca blanket that consumed me throughout the night. Then after a hot spa and breakfast, I met Markos with an adventurous spirit. Andrew drove us to the furthest point you can reach by 4WD. Markos talked. while I struggled to catch my breath, ascending the steep ridge. “People think sheep are stupid, but they’re highly intelligent,” he said. I’ve never met someone who cared about sheep as deeply as Markos. We followed the ridgeline and passed several gates before reaching the Flockhill Boulders. It took me a minute to realize the boulders towering over me were the ones Andrew first pointed out on the drive. “Do you rock climb,” said Markos. “These boulders are well known amongst the rock-climbing community,” he said.

He was right. There seemed to be no end. For miles and miles, boulders scattered across a hill face, overlooking mountain ranges, basins, limestone outcrops, and pastures. Markos showed me the battlefield several feet below the cliff face, where they filmed the great battle scene from The Chronicles of Narnia. We continued down the labyrinth, climbing, jumping, and scraping ourselves boulder after boulder. We faced them all: small ones, round ones, U-shaped ones, and large ones that could rival a semi-trailer. However, it was a battle between admiring the boulders and mesmerizing the panoramic views, looking into the station’s depths, which never seemed to end.

HIKING, BIKING & MORE

Finally, Markos pointed out the station’s land. That’s when I realized the sheer privilege of staying at Flockhill Lodge. The station is yours to explore. Thirty-six thousand acres doesn’t just apply to pastures. The scope of the land is incomprehensible, and to explore every corner would take weeks, if not months. However, Flockhill Lodge has figured out how to combine a refined stay with all the creature comforts of a five-star resort, with a harrowing experience that allows guests to tap into their wild side, donning wet suits and plunging into caves, spending hours hiking trails or reeling in salmon.

The last section of the hike has us shuffling down a steep hill on our bottoms, emerging from tall grasses and boulders to an open-air cave, crowding around us like hands cupping a mug. I noticed a wooden picnic table in the distance and Markos’ better half, Lizette, waiting with a cocktail shaker and light snacks. The sun plunged beneath the rocky sculptures surrounding us, igniting the sky with pink and orange. I asked Lizette and Markos, “do you ever get used to this place?” They replied, “every day is something different. That’s life at Flockhill Station, and we’re fortunate to live here.”

Before it got too dark, we packed the picnic into the 4WD. We cruised along a dirt road, passing a flock of sheep. It was a 10-minute drive back to Flockhill Lodge. We filled the minutes with laughter and stories like we had known each other for years. Andrew was standing at the front door when we arrived at the lodge. “Welcome home,” he said. A statement I’d never truly felt until I stayed at Flockhill Lodge.

For more information on Flockhill Lodge, visit flockhillnz.com

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