Auckland Harbour Suites to Opononi private car — Annelies's conference trip

The harbourside air in Auckland was thick with the scent of salt and the promise of a warm February day. My Mercedes was ready, gleaming under the morning sun, outside the Auckland Harbour Suites. The booking was for Annelies V, and like many of my clients, she was an overseas visitor coming for a conference, though her destination was a rather different kind of gathering – Opononi, up on the Northland coast. I'd always found that quirk a little fascinating, the mix of corporate ambition and coastal escape.

Annelies emerged, a compact woman with bright, alert eyes that seemed to take in every detail. She had a small, smart suitcase and a carry-on, testament to her efficient packing for what I assumed would be a short work trip. She was originally from Belgium, she mentioned as we settled into the car, and New Zealand was a world away from her home in Ghent. The conference in Auckland was her main reason for the visit, but she’d always wanted to see the Hokianga Harbour, a place she’d read about and seen in photographs. Opononi was her way of ticking that particular box before heading back to Europe.

We navigated the familiar crawl out of the city, the Harbour Bridge a familiar skeleton against the sky. North Auckland’s traffic was its usual slow dance, but Annelies seemed unbothered, gazing out at the passing landscape. We chatted lightly about her flight, the conference schedule, the usual pre-journey pleasantries. It wasn’t until we were well past Wellsford, the road straightening out towards the north, that she began to share a little more about why Opononi called to her. She spoke of a colleague, a New Zealander she’d met at a previous international event, who had told her stories of the Kauri tree’s enduring strength and the unique spirit of the small coastal towns.

As the landscape shifted from rolling farmland to denser bush and glimpses of the glittering sea, Annelies grew more contemplative. She mentioned a particular painting by a Belgian artist, depicting a similar rugged coastline, and how it had always evoked a sense of longing for something wild and untamed. It struck me then that her trip wasn’t just about the business conference; it was a personal pilgrimage, a search for a connection to something elemental that perhaps couldn’t be found on the bustling streets of Ghent or even in the efficient meetings of the conference hall.

We stopped for a quick coffee and a stretch at a small roadside café near Kaiwaka. The air was warmer now, tinged with the smell of sun-baked earth. Annelies bought a postcard, a shot of the iconic Opononi sand dunes, and carefully penned a message, her brow furrowed in concentration. She told me, without prompting, that she planned to send it back home from Opononi itself, a small, tangible link between her Belgian life and this distant, windswept corner of Aotearoa.

The final stretch towards the Hokianga was particularly beautiful, the road winding through pockets of native forest before opening up to sweeping views of the harbour. The blue of the water was a deep, inviting shade, and the famous sand dunes of Opononi stood sentinel across the water. It was easy to see why people were drawn here.

Arriving in Opononi felt like entering a different pace of life altogether. The scattering of houses, the small general store, the quiet beach – it was the antithesis of corporate Auckland. Annelies thanked me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She mentioned she had a quiet evening planned, just watching the sunset over the water, before making her own arrangements to return to Auckland the following morning for her flight. As I pulled away, the vastness of the harbour and the quiet dignity of the dunes seemed to hold a promise, a sense of peace she had come a very long way to find. It was a good reminder that sometimes, the most important journeys are the ones we take for ourselves, guided by quiet whispers of art and longing across continents.