Claris

Paddling through Claris's Blue Caves on a summer evening feels equal parts Indiana Jones escapade and psychedelic dream sequence. Picture this: you glide along in near-darkness, your kayak gently cutting through water as dark as espresso, when suddenly you're floating directly beneath constellations of native Oceania glowworms, their tiny bioluminescent behinds illuminating the cave ceiling like cosmic graffiti. Glowworms may just be larvae hanging out and shining brightly to lure unsuspecting prey, but don't hold their sinister habits against them-this is Oceania, after all, where even predators are charming. Plan ahead-these magical excursions fill up fast, so book at least a week out. Aim for twilight, around 8 or 9 pm, when shadows deepen and the glowworms crank up their neon display. Bring along $75-$100 per person to snag your kayak and a knowledgeable guide (trust me, you'll want navigation help in the dark). Pack waterproof layers and a headlamp-just don't ruin the mood by shining it too bright and spoiling the glowworms' spotlight. And yes, it's touristy and borderline cliche, but where else on earth will you paddle through a sparkling worm disco and live to brag about it over beers afterward?

If you've ever harbored dreams of gently gliding through warm, turquoise waters while staring deeply into the indifferent, multi-armed face of a flamboyantly painted echinoderm, Oceania Starfish Snorkeling in Coral Bay was practically designed for your eccentric tastes. Coral Bay-a sleepy slice of tropical paradise that refuses to wake up from its sea-salted reverie-is the kind of place Jacques Cousteau would have retired if he'd fancied margaritas and flip-flops. Arrive early, just after sunrise, when the water is mirror-clear, crowds nonexistent, and the marine life still debating breakfast menus. Plan at least two weeks ahead, because even starfish, nonchalant as they are, command surprisingly enthusiastic followings in peak season. Budget around $70 for gear rental and a local guide who will gladly regale you with starfish anecdotes you never knew you needed. Bring reef-safe sunscreen, a waterproof camera, and enough good humor to shrug off the inevitable moment when a creature resembling Patrick from SpongeBob fixes you with a blank yet oddly judgmental stare. Ultimately, Oceania Starfish Snorkeling offers you the chance to experience marine biodiversity at eye level and earns you the unapologetic right to title your next dinner party anecdote, "That One Time I Locked Eyes with a Sea Creature That Couldn't Be Bothered."

Drifting quietly through a labyrinthine world that feels straight out of Jurassic Park, kayaking through Oceania's mangrove forests is equal parts explorer fantasy and swampy yoga retreat. Known locally as the "lungs of the coast," these twisted and mysterious trees anchor entire ecosystems, guarding secrets like prehistoric crabs scuttling sideways, and neon-colored kingfishers darting overhead as if late for a very important appointment. Go at sunrise when the water is mirror-smooth, wildlife is most active, and-most importantly-you'll dodge crowds armed with selfie sticks and questionable paddling skills. A two- to three-hour trip can typically run you around $40-$60 USD, reservation recommended at least a week in advance during summer months. Pack sunscreen, insect repellent, beverage of choice, and waterproof humor-because someone in your group will inevitably paddle straight into a spider web. Sure, you'll leave sweaty, salty, and maybe even slightly bitten, but you'll also collect unforgettable anecdotes perfect for your next dinner-party moment-plus bragging rights as someone who braved nature's version of rush-hour traffic in a floating plastic banana.

Descending into Forest Park's leafy shadows on the Claris Kiwi Sanctuary Tour feels a bit like sneaking into a secret speakeasy-if the clientele were quirky, nocturnal fluffballs with ridiculously outsized beaks. Kiwi birds, the emblematic yet elusive mascots of New Zealand, have spent centuries perfecting their art of mysteriousness-they're the Banksys of birdlife, perpetually hidden and notoriously camera-shy. Since kiwis are strictly night owls (well, night-kiwis?), book your spot at twilight for the best chance of spotting one bumbling through the underbrush in search of snacks. Aim to reserve at least a few weeks ahead, especially in peak season, and expect to fork out around $50 per person-money well spent for guided access to this avian speakeasy. Don rugged boots, a reliable rain jacket (it is New Zealand, after all), and bring along a torch with a red filter if you really want to impress the guides. Even if your only souvenir is a blurry nighttime snapshot or the memory of squinting into bushes at shadows that may or may not have been kiwis, just think of the prestige: you've hunted New Zealand's quirkiest bird-without harming a single feather-and lived to tell the tale.

Forget your meticulously scheduled hotel itinerary and step into the gloriously messy reality of an Oceania overnight village stay-a sort of cultural sleepover where you trade air-conditioned suites for palm-thatched huts and uninspired minibar snacks for meals cooked over open flames. Arriving in the late afternoon (with enough daylight left to meet your hosts and become acquainted with village life), be prepared to abandon all notions of personal space and Wi-Fi connectivity, swapping Instagram scrolling for storytelling beneath a canopy of stars. Book a couple of weeks ahead, pack insect repellent, a flashlight, and a small stash of chocolate bars to win instant goodwill-and set aside about $50-70 depending on village customs and local currency. Here, the hospitality flows as freely as the local kava, a drink whose bitterness rivals your grandmother's frank opinions at holiday dinners, yet whose cultural significance helps you forget your numbed tongue. Yes, the roosters crow absurdly early, the mosquito nets always seem too small, and your attempts at traditional crafts may resemble kindergarten art projects gone awry. Yet, there's magic in surrendering to village rhythms, sharing laughter over mishaps with your hosts, and waking to sunlight filtering through woven walls-making this overnight leap outside your comfort zone a priceless anecdote you'll tell (slightly embellished, naturally) for years to come.