There's a moment on every camping holiday that makes you pause. Maybe it's that initial sip of coffee as the sun rises over Lake Taupō, or the sound of kids already challenging each other to barefooted races through damp grass while the tent zip is still half undone. Time ticks differently out here. Wi-Fi signals fade, screens get left behind, and what sets in is the rhythm of the bush, the coast, or the river. It's no surprise, then, that for many Kiwis, summer doesn't officially begin until the car is packed with tents and chilly bins and the open road awaits.
Some might think camping is a relic of the past, but the numbers prove otherwise. In 2022, domestic tourists in New Zealand recorded 7.2 million nights in holiday parks and campgrounds. That's not nostalgia, it's woven into how families unwind here. Meanwhile, Aotearoa's youth spend around 42 hours per week on screens, significantly more than the global average of 35 hours. Pitching a tent by the sea isn't just a break, it's a reset.
Ask any parent why they camp, and the reasons run more profound than "getting away." It's about allowing children to climb trees, to learn to use a camp stove, or to understand why the tide behaves the way it does. It's about remembering abilities that don't need apps or chargers. And, yes, it's about reminding ourselves that we can survive a day without notifications.
If you've been camping in the rain, you'll understand that half the battle is preparation. Kiwi families make the summer camping holiday a virtual ritual. The list begins weeks in advance: tents aired and poles inspected, chilly bins cleaned, gas canisters refilled.
Experienced campers will tell you, don't go out and buy any old big top. Think about ventilation, how easy it is to put up, and whether it will withstand a southerly blasting through the camp ground. The same goes for sleeping bags. You can get away with a cheapie for a one-night stay, but if you're pitching for a week in the Coromandel, you'll be kicking yourself that you didn't invest in one rated for chilly nights.
Preparation also includes scouting out your destination. DOC campsites are scattered around New Zealand's most beautiful places, but some must be booked months in advance. Others are first-come, first-served. Getting a head start ensures you won't be driving around a complete campsite in dwindling light.
For most families, preparing for camping is not only for the holiday. The identical rods, reels, and cool boxes that get packed for the beach will also do for a spring fishing trip or an autumn family outing. This is the reason why stores like Land & Sea have become an institution of Kiwi summers. They cater to both fishers and campers, offering gear that doesn't sit in storage for 11 months of the year but gets put through its paces weekends, seasons, and generations.
Consider soft baiting, for example. It's a very popular form of fishing in New Zealand waters these days. For children, it's an adventure; for adults, it's an art. And when your tackle box and your tent pegs come from the same source, the adventure seems that much easier.
Fishing's also a part and parcel of camping holidays here. Not all people are after the trophy snapper, sometimes it's about teaching kids to thread a hook on or simply sitting alongside each other in silence waiting for a bite. Those are the moments that stay longer in the memory than the catch itself.
There is a cadence to the nights. Dinner can be as basic as sausages in a cast-iron skillet, or as elaborate as fresh fish cooked on coals. The campfire is the focal point, where stories are told, marshmallows are toasted, and teenagers, amazingly, leave their phones in their sleeping bags.
Camping is where you learn what they don't teach in school. Kids learn problem-solving ability when a tent stake won't fit into loose sand. Adults learn patience again when the camp stove is running low on gas. Even accidents become stories told, the surprise rainstorm that soaked all of the equipment, or the opossum that raided the food box at midnight.
These are the times that matter. Department of Conservation research proves that outdoor activities reduce stress and build resilience in young people. It's one thing to read about it, but quite another to witness your child beam with pride after finally managing to get the campfire lit by themselves.
One can forget the power of the night sky. The Southern Cross appears almost reachable, far away from city lights. Stargazing becomes a group activity, a reminder that nature does not require an admission fee. That's when most families realize that camping beats any streaming service.
And kids are not the only beneficiaries. Adults, also, routinely speak about how camping clears their heads. That pre-dawn beach walk, or that silent paddle across a glassy lake, provides a clarity not so readily found elsewhere.
Naturally, camping is not without its faults. You'll end up with sand in the sleeping bag, the gas lighter will go missing, and somebody will forget to bring the tea towels. But it's these faults that make the tradition persist. Camping would be lacking in the very elements that provide it with value if it were too streamlined, too hassle-free.
The imperfections become part of the lore, the stories told at Christmas about "that summer when the tent collapsed in the storm." They're the glue that binds families together in shared experience.
Will camping be pertinent a decade from now? Absolutely. If anything, it will be even more pertinent. As urban living gets more hectic and digital diversion gets more pervasive, the appeal of the wilderness will only grow. It is not nostalgia, but need. Humans require some time distanced from the digital realm to be reminded who they are independent of it. Camping provides precisely that, a reset button, a reminder that simple things can form the strongest traditions. Whether it's throwing a line into the ocean, pitching a tent beneath the pōhutukawa, or sharing tales around the light of a fire, a Kiwi summer isn't finished without camping.