Gold FM radio host Andrew Dickens packs in the action in New Caledonia

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Just two-and-a-half hours from Auckland, New Caledonia is full of remarkable things to do.

The evening we arrived in New Caledonia was the day New Zealand had its first big snow dump of the year. Which suited us just fine, because that was exactly what we’d come to New Caledonia to escape. We were here to reclaim our dismal New Zealand summer, while also avoiding the gales, squalls and snows of early winter.

Temperature: 22 degrees, with a light wind from the south. New Caledonia’s capital, Noumea, is very like the South of France — and take that from a guy who lived in Nice for nearly three years: the smells, the heat, the baguettes, the food. But it’s not 24 hours away, it’s on your doorstep.

What a lot of people also don’t realise is how big and mountainous New Caledonia is, and how much variation there is in the landscape and environment. The east coast catches the predominant winds so it’s humid and wet with rainforests. It’s also more remote with a more prevalent indigenous culture. The easterlies hit the mountains, which rise to 5000 feet, dump their rain and then sweep down the west coast as a dry hot wind, much like the noreaster in Canterbury. So, the west coast is devoid of jungle — it’s low trees and grassland and that’s where we were headed.

A two-hour drive to the north is Domaine de Deva. It’s a protected regional park of 18,500 acres which includes a dry forest, the seagrass beds along Poe Beach, and the coral reef that surrounds much of New Caledonia, which has been listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2008.

This is where Noumeans come to play. The forests are full of 120 kilometres of mountain bike trails, paragliders jump off the hills, birdwatchers come to see the unique wildlife, and there are 13 kilometres of white sandy beach facing the lagoon.

It’s there you’ll find the Sheraton Deva. Built early in the 2000s this is probably the statement lifestyle hotel in New Caledonia. It looks like a spaceport built in the 1700s by Melanesians, with its vaulted ceilings and massive thatched roofs.

There are hotel rooms in conventional buildings and then there are 70-odd bungalows. Cones of thatch embrace a luxury room and bathroom, and a balcony with a sumptuous day bed that begs for a nap. It’s very popular with New Zealanders who want to get away, switch off and snooze.

But we weren’t here to snooze. We were here to have adventures and the first one was riding horses. Just a five-minute walk from the hotel gate was Far West Ranch run by Marion and her team. They match a horse to your size and ability. I got an ornery horse called Miss who needed a firm hand. My wife, Helen, got a darling called Poulette, or “Little Chicken”.

And so we moseyed off straight onto the beach. Ambling along a tropical white sandy beach with stingrays and sea snakes playing in the light waves was a mindful moment. We cut back to the forest and there a deer spooked the horses, which added some excitement. Mountain bikers and hikers passed by now and then. Two lovely hours.

After lunch, which was predictably lovely — yellowjacket fish three ways — Helen popped off to the Deep Nature Spa for a soak and a steam. “Mindblowing” was the report back.

I, on the other hand, was off to play golf. The Deva golf course is again a five-minute walk from the hotel. Designed by the Pete Dye Agency it’s quite an eye-opener. Despite being by the sea and lagoon it’s not a links course. At seven kilometres long with a par of 72, it’s no walk in the park — but it sure is pretty.

The 11th hole was stunning — 160 metres with 17 bunkers — and glimmering in the distance is the green and a backdrop of mountains.

I played with Hugo and Tony, the course professionals. They reckon it’s the best course in the Pacific, up there with New Zealand and Australian courses. I’d agree.

On the 11th they both dropped the ball within five metres of the hole. I went for a tour of two bunkers before finally hitting the green. It’s fair to say I used some pretty strong language. Classic Dad joke: I asked Hugo and Tony to excuse my French. They laughed and said they’re used to it. Mark Twain says golf is a walk ruined. But it was a really, really lovely walk especially when we played by the beach.

It was a big day topped off by an equally big buffet dinner, featuring mountains of seafood. We slept very well.

Next day: Poe Beach, 10 minutes up the road. It’s a little town with a restaurant and hotel and a small beach grill joint called Alize, which does steaks and fish and chips on barbecue tables with plates and cutlery and napkins. So French.

We were there for a glass-bottomed tour of the lagoon. After 15 minutes we found what we were looking for; giant sea turtles grazing the seagrass underwater. It was unexpectedly emotional. These massive beings are survivors — only one in 1000 turtles reach adulthood, plucked off from day one by seabirds and sharks.

We met Katrine, a female with a big notch taken out of her shell when she was a kid by something trying to eat her. We hovered above and watched her slowly graze the ocean floor, then surface every 15 for a big gulp of air. It really was magical.

Then it was on to the reef. The reefs around New Caledonia span 1600 kilometres, which is about two-thirds the size of the Great Barrier Reef, but are in better condition. The seabed was only two metres down but that meant we saw the whole environment; clown fish hiding in anemones, giant conch shells and clams; stripy sea snakes slithering past; neon fish darting around; and bigger fish making their dash from coral outcrop to outcrop.

About halfway back from Deva on the road to Noumea we stopped at the New Zealand War Cemetery. On land gifted by a local called Charles Goussard, the Commonwealth War Graves Commission constructed and maintained a cemetery for young Kiwis who died in WWII in the South West Pacific.

Here you’ll find the final resting place of seven sailors, 161 soldiers and 78 airmen. The graves curve down a sloping field looking out over a tropical valley. Walking past each, you see the names and the ages… 20, 21, 23, 22. Occasionally you come across a 30-year-old; they were the officers. Young men in charge of kids, really. I’ve never been to an overseas war cemetery and it was quite overwhelming, the loss of a young narrow age band of New Zealand men. But they sacrificed for today’s freedoms — and in the tropics, in the silence, with a light wind, I could not have been sadder or prouder.

In a short space of time New Caledonia packed in the adventure, warm weather and emotion — all wrapped in a slice of French and island life, and all just two-and-a-half hours from home.

For your chance to WIN an all-inclusive trip for 2 to New Caledonia, head to newcaledonia.travel/nz/gold-fm-competition

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