I paid $250 to stay in a plastic tiny house in New Zealand in the middle of winter. I thought I'd freeze, but by morning, I didn't want to leave.
Date: 2024-10-24
I visited New Zealand during winter and stayed in a geodesic dome on the country's south island.
I feared I'd spend my night shivering in the 430-square-foot tiny home.
Its luxe amenities and gas fireplace convinced me I never wanted to leave.
New Zealand is home to the most breathtaking nature I've seen.
When I visited in June 2022, my focus was to soak in every moment. I wanted to explore the country's striking mountains, lush forests, and crystal-clear waters.
My only concern was that it was wintertime in New Zealand. As a Floridian, I've never adjusted to the cold, but I headed to New Zealand anyway and booked stays in lodges that seamlessly connected me to nature.
One of my favorites was a glamping dome at Cross Hill Lodge and Domes in New Zealand's Otago region, an area in the southern region of the country's South Island.
The property has six geodesic domes and a shared lodge at the edge of Lake Hawea.
I found the property on Airbnb and booked a single-night stay in one of the 430-square-foot domes for $250. In October 2024, the property had increased prices to $363 a night.
I was traveling from northeast Queenstown, and during my hourlong drive, I passed snow-covered mountains and icy lakes.
As I reached Cross Hill, the top of a white dome could be seen through trees.
Fear set in when I stepped out of my heated car and into the frigid air. The plastic exterior of the domes looked wafer-thin, and I hoped the heating in the domes would suffice. I wanted to embrace the outdoors but didn't want to spend the night shivering in 40-degree Fahrenheit weather.
But there were no refunds and no turning back. I headed to Cross Hill's communal lodge, where the host, Stevie T, greeted me. He showed me the lodge, which had couches, a TV, and a few desserts that were free for guests.
Then, we headed to dome six, which was my tiny house for the night.
As I entered the dome, all my worries vanished. Thanks to a heat pump and gas stove, the space was cozy and warm.
I felt like I had stepped inside a giant marshmallow. The dome's metal structure was encased in multiple layers of white vinyl, creating a puffy candied look.
There were slippers and robes waiting for me at the entranceway to the dome.
To the right of the entrance was a king-size bed. The bed faced a wide panel of clear plastic partially covered by a row of curtains.
I pulled the cloth back, and views appeared. The dome overlooked the property's manicured gardens and mountains in the distance. As I looked out the window, I felt crisp, cold air seeping in at the dome's base.
Stevie T reassured me that the dome would be warm for the night. It was heated, plus there was a gas fireplace, a heated mattress, and heated bathroom floors.
As I moved past the bedroom, I passed a small table and a compact kitchen.
The kitchen had everything I'd need for a short stay. There was glassware, dishes, a coffee machine, and a mini fridge stocked with milk and cold water.
I passed through the kitchen and walked toward the back of the dome. Here, I found the bathroom.
Later, I spotted more of the dome's luxe details. Everywhere I walked, motion-sensor lights turned on. The bathroom had a towel warmer, and in the kitchen, I found a milk frother.
The amenities, stunning views, and cushy bed convinced me I didn't need to leave the dome — not even for dessert. I settled in and turned on the heated mattress.
Other visitors arrived around me. Similar to a camping tent, the domes weren't very soundproof. I could hear couples debating what to have for dinner and discussing plans for the next day.
I knew that they could see and hear me, too. With the privacy curtain open and my lights on, anyone walking by had a clear view into my dome.
But even with limited privacy, I felt connected to nature. I heard birds chirping and rain dripping. I spotted rugged mountains and smelled wood burning from the lodge.
After eating the dinner I packed, I crawled into bed. Once the sun set, my dome was illuminated by the gas fireplace. Then, I realized I was missing one of the dome's main appeals — the stars.
I turned off the remote-controlled fireplace to get a better view. Through the clear plastic, I searched for shooting stars and constellations.
My gazing didn't last long. As chilly air seeped into the tent, I turned the fireplace back on and fell asleep. With the mattress heater turned on high, the fireplace cranked to its max, and the dome's thermostat set to 72 degrees Fahrenheit, I was warm all night.
The next morning, I woke up to a blazing sunrise.
I crawled out of my warm bed and explored the lodge's gardens. I walked by an outdoor wood-fired hot tub and headed to the lodge, where I dined on a complimentary breakfast of eggs and toast.
Full from breakfast, I dragged my feet back to the dome. I didn't have any desire to pack up my suitcase and leave. As I folded my pajamas from the previous night, I dreamed of making Cross Hill my home.
I'm sure some nights were bound to be even chillier, but I learned that living in a place that seamlessly blended indoors with outdoors might be a better fit for me than my city life back in the US.