SkyCity Hotel to Thames private car — Amisha's trip

The late September air had a crispness to it, but the sun was already warming the pavement around the cruise terminal. Even at that hour, the city hummed with the usual hustle, a stark contrast to the gentle pace I associate with the Coromandel.

My passenger, Amisha R, was waiting near the designated pickup point, a small suitcase at her feet. She had a kind face, framed by dark, wavy hair, and her eyes held a quiet warmth. She’d just disembarked from the cruise ship that had docked overnight, a temporary visitor to Auckland before heading east to the peninsula. Her journey to Thames was for an indefinite stay, she told me, visiting family.

We loaded her bag and set off. The SkyTower loomed in the rearview mirror for a while before we navigated through the city streets, heading towards the southern motorways. Even though it was mid-week, the traffic out of Auckland was already thickening, a familiar bottleneck through the suburbs. I always try to get an early start to avoid the worst of it, but today the roads felt a bit more congested than usual.

As we passed the turn-off for State Highway 2 towards the Coromandel, the landscape began to change. The urban sprawl gradually gave way to rolling green hills, dotted with sheep. We wound our way through the small towns, each with its own character. Maramarua, a little further along, always marks the true start of the Coromandel journey for me. I made a mental note to suggest a coffee stop a bit further on, maybe in Ngatea or Paeroa. Amisha seemed content just looking out the window, absorbing the passing scenery.

She spoke a little about Fiji, her home. Not in a way that seemed to be performing or seeking sympathy, but more like recounting memories that had shaped her. She described the vibrant colours of the islands, the warmth of the community, and the distinct rhythm of life there. It was a world away from the Auckland rush hour we'd left behind. She’d been living in Fiji for years but was heading to Thames to help her sister who had recently had a baby. Her trip wasn't just a visit; it was a meaningful family commitment.

We stopped for a quick break near the Karangahake Gorge. The air was cool and carried the scent of damp earth and bush. While I stretched my legs and refuelled, Amisha took a few photos of the old mining remnants and the river. The history of the place always feels palpable when you stand there, a reminder of earlier times and different ways of life. She mentioned how different the scenery was from her home, so much green and so many trees, a welcome change from the coconut palms and coastal breezes she was used to.

As we neared Thames, the road narrowed further, winding between more trees and glimpses of the Firth of Thames. The afternoon light cast long shadows. It wasn't a hurried drive; the pace felt dictated by the gentle curves of the road and the quiet contemplation of my passenger. She'd shared enough of her story, just enough to paint a picture of her life and the reason for her journey, without needing to fill every moment with words.

We pulled up to her sister's house in Thames just as the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip lower. It was a modest, friendly-looking place with a tidy garden. I helped Amisha with her suitcase, and as she thanked me, I saw a genuine sense of anticipation in her eyes, mixed with the relief of having arrived. She was ready to step into her new role, her temporary life on the peninsula. I watched her walk up the path, a small figure against the backdrop of the family home, a peaceful end to my journey east for the day, before turning the car around for the quiet drive back to Auckland under the deepening twilight.