Say kia ora to Louis Davidson - guide, storyteller, and self-confessed pesto pasta enthusiast. Born and raised on Waiheke Island back when it still had “barefoot hippy kid” vibes, Louis brings a unique blend of curiosity, conservation passion, and community spirit to the Hiking New Zealand team. Whether he's bush-bashing in search of ancient rātā trees or soaking up the energy at a live music gig, Louis thrives where wild nature and human connection meet. His easygoing presence, sharp eye for the natural world, and knack for weaving local knowledge into every step of a journey make him one of those guides you’ll talk about long after the hike ends.
A not-so-well-kept secret, Waiheke Island is firmly on the map these days thanks to its scattering of boutique vineyards and idyllic north-facing beaches. Just 35-minutes boat ride from Auckland in the Hauraki Gulf, my birthplace has changed remarkably in my lifetime.
Growing up, our bi-weekly football forays to the ‘mainland’ would attract comments about us ‘barefoot hippy kids’. Nowadays, I’m more likely to hear, ‘Wow, you must be rich!’. My litmus for how much has changed in less than a generation.
In many ways, Waiheke’s relationship to Auckland now mirrors that of the Hamptons to New York. Regardless of how you feel about this trajectory, the island was a special place to grow up. My ‘free range’ upbringing instilled in me a connection to our natural environment, a hands-on appreciation for conservation, and a strong (and colourful) sense of community. All of which remain permanent fixtures.
If you’re visiting, check out the ‘world famous on Waiheke’ community cinema, furnished with leather couches and screening local short-films in lieu of advertisements.
Ideally, you’ll find me oscillating between the backcountry and the crowd at a live-music gig. I’ve found these pursuits most often generate this remarkably visceral feeling I can best describe as an ‘unbridled stokedness’. It’s pretty neat, so I try not to let too much time pass before heading for the hills or a festival.
Getting divebombed by a kārearea (our endemic falcon) bush-bashing through Akatarawa Forest Park in search of ‘Big Red’, the largest known rātā tree in the world. There’s an estimated 5000-8000 of these predatory birds left, so stumbling across what was likely a nesting site felt pretty special. We gave it a wide berth. I've seen enough exploding kererū (our endemic wood pigeon) to possess a healthy dose of respect for the aerial prowess of the kārearea.
Pesto Pasta. This will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me or has been on one of my trips. I’ve eaten it at least once a week since graduating to a solid-food diet, and my trail-ready rendition even comes with an Italian endorsement from one of our lovely (and discerning) clients.
My neck gaiter (Buff). It's the unsung hero of my kit - beanie, neck warmer, sun shield, dust mask, pillowcase, emergency coffee filter?... you name it. It’s one of those deceptively simple bits of gear that proves its worth a hundred times over.
Ala-Kul Lake, a remote high-mountain wilderness in Kyrgyzstan, is high up on my bucket list. There are rumblings of a 2026 trip so watch this space.