One favourite Kiwi summer pastime is staying in baches.

But if you ask me, the number of actual baches in Aotearoa is dwindling as we dive deeper into a modern world where convenience and home appliances to do everything is ever-increasingly popular.

A lot of people say they have a bach – but really, it is a holiday home.

Yes, there’s a difference.

A bach doesn’t have a TV, a fridge that spits out ice chunks on demand or a tile-lined bathroom.

To me, a bach is something basic – it’s a place to enjoy the simpler thigs in life and the nature awaiting outside...

There’s no fancy gadgets, no spas, no in-ground swimming pools or home ventilation systems. Well that’s what I think.

Maybe it’s because I grew up going to a bach in the remote Far North.

As a kid, the bach had no power or solar, no indoor toilet, and cooking was done on the fire or by gas hob.

I remember one night, as a littlie, mum leading me outside and into the dark with wind whipping, trees swaying, buildings murmuring and creaking and a full moon lighting the way so I could go to use the long drop!

Back then the bach had no doors on any rooms.

Instead there were curtains – even for the shower door.

Thankfully the bach did have running water – but to heat this water you had get the pot belly fire going.

This required collecting driftwood for kindling and chopping wood.

Then you’d use the top to cook – so not to waste gas.

Many fun childhood memories are framed around activities just to stay at the bach.

Think wood chopping, washing clothes in the bath with a hand-operated ringer, smoking fish in the smokehouse and digging out a spring up the hill to get water running to the bach...

Smoking fish was a full-day exercise itself.

First you’re up early to row the boat out to bring in the net, pluck out the fish then gut and salt the fish to ‘cure’ slightly while you light the fire.

It took time to get the fire going at the right temperature in the smokehouse – too hot and fish would fall flat into the fire and burn – then someone had to sit by the smokehouse for about three hours to keep the temperature constant by slightly opening and shutting the smokehouse door and adding leaves to make ‘smoke’ that to get unique and irresistible flavour!

Then you had to dampen the fire and roll all the fish in paper and ferry them out to all the whanau nearby before you got a bite of the hot, steaming morsel of warm, fresh-out-of-the-smokehouse fish!

Another memory is first time I’d woken up before everyone else and learned to use the ‘clicker’ to start the gas hob for a milo. I was so proud of myself!

Nearly every part of the bach was made up of second-hand items – the windows, taps, shower cubicle, and toilet when it was fitted inside by my teen years.

The cups, bowls, plates, knives, forks etc an eclectic mix of colours, shapes, sizes and designs donated from visitors as they came and went.

Same with the towels and bedding. It was about making do – and having fun doing it!

Back then there was also no cellphone coverage – so no ringtones, blings, beeps or vibrating luring you back into the busy world.

You were off-grid completely!

Staying there always evokes a strong sensation of being at peace, in a slower, more natural world without modern life’s complications.

You miss the electric egg beater but have fun racing the kids beating eggs with the decades-old handheld one that catches every third and fourth third turn!

Somehow the bach wraps its simple existence around you, and you lull into this relaxed mode you just can’t find at home.

We still go to the bach – now with our little ones – letting them carve their own childhood memories in such a special place.

And, yes the bach has had a freshen-up of sorts.

It has doors, solar power, instant hot water and fridges.

But it is still basic by most modern standards.

And it’s still a lot of fun undertaking the activities to exist within it – and to explore its surrounds.