What If Tourism Left a Community Better Than It Found It?
This story probably deserves to be a book, not a blog. I don't think I've ever visited a location that's more inspiring than Headwaters Glenorchy.
I first heard about the Living Building Challenge a few months ago and found the concept incredibly inspiring. When we began planning our Otago trip, we got in contact with Headwaters Glenorchy and asked if they'd be willing to support our filming in the Rees and Dart area, host us for a few days, and let us explore the Living Building Challenge and the work they're doing within the Glenorchy community.
I walked in expecting to tell a special story about sustainability. What I found instead was an organisation committed to benefiting its community in a way that I think needs to be replicated at scale across the world. I went there expecting the Living Building Challenge to be the story. What I came away with was much broader: how can we inspire businesses and organisations to invest sustainably in our communities in a way that enriches them?
That became apparent almost immediately. When Abby and I checked in, we were given the choice of having our rooms serviced each day or foregoing daily cleaning and having that money directed towards the local community trust. We didn't need our rooms cleaned every day, so it was an easy decision. Later, we learned that one of the initiatives supported through this model helps fund a nurse to be in Glenorchy one day a week for the community. Over the years, the Trust has also supported things like swimming lessons for local schoolchildren. That moment set the tone for our entire experience at Headwaters. There seems to be a culture of deliberate decision making, with an eye towards the question: "How can the downstream impacts help our community or improve sustainability?"
Headwaters was founded by Debbi and Paul Brainerd, who fell in love with the Glenorchy while visiting the area and wanted to create something environmentally sustainable that would, in a sense, adopt the community, adhere to the principles of the Living Building Challenge, produce minimal waste and operate as a for good organisation.
Paul's background makes that philosophy particularly interesting. He came from the technology industry before choosing to dedicate much of the second half of his life to philanthropy. One of the organisations he established was Social Venture Partners, based around the idea of strengthening communities by connecting skilled people who wanted to contribute their expertise, time or money to community causes.
That philosophy had already been part of Paul and Debbi's lives well before Headwaters. They also developed IslandWood on Bainbridge Island near Seattle, a nature focused educational organisation centred particularly around connecting children with the natural world. Headwaters felt like another expression of that same underlying question: how do you use the resources, skills and opportunities you have to leave something better behind?
What we experienced was one of the most well thought through projects I've ever come across.
The Living Building Challenge sits at the heart of much of what has been created at Headwaters. It uses the metaphor of a flower to describe what a building could be: rooted in its place, generating its own energy, collecting its own water, supporting the ecosystem and community around it, and being beautiful at the same time. Camp Glenorchy, now known as Headwaters Glenorchy Eco Lodge, was designed, built and guided around those principles
The Living Building Challenge itself is divided into seven "petals", and Headwaters has achieved certification in three of them: energy, water and materials. What I found particularly interesting is that beauty is also part of the framework. It isn't simply about creating something technically sustainable, but somewhere people actually want to spend time and connect with.
I find that idea incredibly inspiring because it changes the question. Instead of starting a building project, and then asking how to make it slightly less damaging, you begin by asking what the building's relationship with the place around it should actually be.
At Headwaters, one of the things we loved was the homely, rustic feel created through the extensive use of reclaimed and recycled materials, including timber and materials salvaged onsite, from old buildings and from felled trees. Where new timber was required, timber sourced from Forest Stewardship Council certified mills was used. We were told around 70 percent of the original build incorporated recycled materials, including timber from old wool sheds, woodsheds and wooden power poles.
There are also wonderful individual stories throughout the property, including a wall created from driftwood collected from the Glenorchy lakefront and flooring that incorporates stones gathered from the Dart River. Headwaters uses less than half the water of comparable properties. The lodge is also a Net Positive Energy location, meaning that over the course of a year it generates more energy than it consumes.
and Headwaters Eco Lodge was created as New Zealand's first Net Zero Energy range of visitor accommodation.
Some of the other materials have equally unusual stories. Timber was salvaged from buildings demolished in Christchurch following the earthquakes and from buildings in Dunedin, while artwork around the property incorporates things as simple as empty paint tins. It was one of the things I loved about walking through Headwaters: so much of what you were looking at had already lived another life somewhere else.
The water system was one of the parts I found particularly fascinating. Rainwater is collected for use onsite, while water from bathroom sinks, showers and washing machines is treated through constructed wetlands using plants and microorganisms rather than chemicals. That water can then be stored and reused for irrigation. Waterless composting toilets further reduce water consumption, while the different water supplies throughout the property are separately metered so Headwaters can actually understand how much water is being used. We were told that the composting toilets alone save around 400,000 litres of water each year compared with conventional flushing toilets.
We were also told that by the time the water has passed through the third wetland, it reaches drinkable quality. Headwaters doesn't ask guests to drink it, but it demonstrates just how effective the natural filtration system is before that water is reused around the property.
Even the showers are part of that thinking. They are timed, with guests given around eight minutes, but the water-saving shower heads are designed to maintain strong pressure while using less water and retaining warmth. A timer goes off at six minutes to let you know you've got two minutes left.
We expected this to feel restrictive, but what surprised me was how long six minutes actually is. I never even hit the six-minute mark, even after a day down the Rees Valley when I returned muddy and sweaty. I left wondering if there was a way to incorporate similar principles into my own home one day.
The same philosophy applies to energy. The buildings on site use passive solar design, high levels of insulation, energy-efficient lighting and appliances, and solar generation. Headwaters' solar garden produces more energy over the course of a year than the property uses.
But the design isn't only about reducing energy or water use. The chalets themselves were intentionally designed as cosy spaces, partly for thermal efficiency, but also to encourage people into communal areas like the Greenstone Lounge. The idea is that guests come back from exploring Glenorchy, sit around the fire, share a drink and actually meet one another. It was another example of sustainability being considered alongside the type of human experience Headwaters wanted to create.
To me, this was a wonderful addition. I've often commented that those of us who are in our thirties and older often don't get to meet many new people while travelling. The community spaces at Headwaters make connecting with others a truly special experience. Each evening at dinner, I met new people and walked away with friendships I suspect will last a lifetime.
One of the things they did was they wanted to engage with the Glenorchy community, and one of the things that, as conservationists, we're really aware of is how difficult it is to engage with stakeholders. In fact, one of the key issues we often see across New Zealand is people coming into rural communities, telling them how to operate and not hearing or working alongside them.
And what we saw at Headwaters Glenorchy was an incredibly well-thought-through consultation process of how both Headwaters and their sister business, Mrs Woolly's, have just adopted the community, how they've worked with them to hear their concerns, the vision and the needs of the community, and then stepped in to meet them. There were hundreds of meetings and conversations with the community as the project was being developed. Those conversations went as far as helping shape what the project itself should actually be, including whether it should be a campground or a lodge. It initially began life as Camp Glenorchy, with more of a campground-style model, before evolving over time towards the Headwaters Eco Lodge Model that exists today.
Whether it be from reducing waste, upgrading the local infrastructure as they brought in technology for internet and power, running a sustainable greenhouse which provides community events, or contributing through the independent Glenorchy Community Trust, there seemed to be an incredible commitment to being part of Glenorchy rather than simply operating a business there. That commitment also extended to personal contributions, including Paul Brainerd providing laptops for local schoolchildren.
That community spirit isn't limited to Headwaters either. Rural Otago still holds an incredible community spirit. The people are hardy but generous. They look out for each other, and roots run deep here. It's not a flash in the pan kind of place. Community is generational, deeply interpersonal and built over decades. It's part of what makes Glenorchy so special, and it really felt like Headwaters had found a way to embed itself within that same spirit.
The greenhouse itself is fascinating. They operate the Suncatch Greenhouse all year round using technology that was originally developed in Alaska and then customised for Glenorchy. The system can respond automatically as temperatures change, controlling heating, windows and fans, and some of the food produced there makes its way into meals served onsite. That also connects with a community commercial composter created through collaboration between Headwaters, the community and local government. It can process things that aren't normally easy to compost, including bones. A local cycles around the community each Friday collecting buckets of organic waste, which is then composted and returned to gardens, including the kitchen garden at Headwaters, where it helps grow food that can eventually end up back on a plate.
They have a trust that puts money back into the community. The Glenorchy Community Trust is independent, with seven trustees from the community. People can apply to the Trust for funding, and those trustees decide where that money is best used. Again, that ranges from things like swimming lessons for local children through to supporting the nurse who comes into Glenorchy one day a week.
One of the things that stunned me was looking at the last names of the people who helped build the place and realising that, as someone raised in Otago, I actually knew about a third of the names or families who'd been involved in building the centre itself. I'd gone to school with, hunted with, worked with, interviewed, and been connected to many of the wider community who'd poured themselves into Headwaters. It added a rich tapestry to the story and, as someone whose family has lived in Otago for a century, made me realise just how extraordinary the level of local involvement in the Headwaters project really was.
That involvement was deliberate. Local artists were brought in to create parts of the property, and the project drew on people from within the region throughout its development. When you combine that with the hundreds of conversations held with the community, it becomes clear that this is very different from most for good projects. Headwaters feels like a living piece of all the best parts of Glenorchy and the people who call it home.
Glenorchy holds a special place for me, and in New Zealand conservation history. Some of our early conservationists set out from, or returned to, Glenorchy while exploring the West Coast. The famous conservationist Richard Henry worked mustering sheep here and devoted his life to saving kākāpō, in part because of the love of wildlife he developed in the Otago region.
Today, takahē have been returned to Greenstone, Caples and the Rees Valley after more than a century of absence. It's the only place in New Zealand where the public can easily see takahē roaming freely on the mainland, outside a fenced sanctuary. Whio are returning to the region after decades of absence, and within a short drive of Headwaters, we were thrilled to see takahē ourselves. It was something we hadn't dared to dream of seeing when we planned the trip.
To me, they don't call it paradise for nothing. Glenorchy is paradise, a small village that exists less than an hour out of Queenstown, and yet it doesn't feel commercial. It feels like stepping back in time and preserving a piece of Kiwi history. And I think it's just been incredibly special seeing a business that stepped in and wanted to promote, develop and help get alongside a community in a for good way.
That sense of remoteness is particularly remarkable given that Queenstown and its international airport are only around 45 minutes away. You can leave one of New Zealand's busiest tourism centres and, less than an hour later, wake to birds, look up at an extraordinarily dark night sky and feel as though you're somewhere completely removed from it. I kept saying to Abby, all I want to do is return for another trip, and spent a few weeks in the muted tones of Glenorchy at headwaters.
We were left humbled by our experience there. I keep saying that this isn't one story. It needs to be a book. It needs to be a series. It needs to be something that's told over and over again to inspire people, not just through the technologies they've developed, but through their attitude towards being a force for good in the world.
I was stunned by just how many stories there were to tell. It wasn't simply that I wanted to tell their story; it was that everywhere we looked, there seemed to be another story worth telling, to the point where I genuinely don't know how we're going to fit them all into a few pieces of content. But I guess my vision walking away is simple: that we're able to tell the story well of a business that genuinely wants to do good by its community, and that many more people see what they've created in Glenorchy as a challenge to do the same.
Imagine a world where this level of care for our communities and sustainability was normal. We feel incredibly privileged to be able to share even a small piece of the Headwaters story, and we hope it inspires everyday Kiwis to look around at their own communities and ask themselves: What would it look like for me to take greater responsibility for the place I call home, using some of these same principles?
Because perhaps that's the most inspiring thing about Headwaters. You don't need to build a Living Building or create a community trust to learn from what they've done. The principle is much simpler: look at the place around you, ask what it needs, and consider what you can do to make it better.