And yet, and yet. I had the chance to visit the island as a tourist recently when I accompanied my cousins, visiting from Canada, on a tour. In our group were many Americans. What I can report is this: the ferry ride was lovely; the tour guide was textbook friendly and irreverent (his favourite riff: referring to lamas as "long-necked sheep"); and the wine and food was in parts average and fantastic. The sun shone, which helped immensely.
The one thing that stood out to me is the sheer number of tourists that Waiheke pumps through each day, especially over summer. No sooner had we tasted the obligatory sauvignon blanc, merlot and syrah and heard the colourful anecdotes associated with each, we would be kindly but assuredly led back to our bus while the next busload upon busload spilled out.
My cousins loved Waiheke, which was great, and Americans on the tour appeared to be blown away by the beauty of the island. A "win-win", as the jargon goes. But if the beauty of Waiheke left them gasping, would the flawless outlook from the hills over Omapere leave them needing oxygen? Would the sheer incomparability of Queen Charlotte Sound leave them on life support? There are so many lovely views on offer in New Zealand, and clearly not enough tourism moolah to get all the interested parties to them. And if we did get them all there, there's the danger, of course, that they would become perilously close to no longer being idyllic, empty, paradise found.