Tauranga to Auckland City private car — Budi's business trip

The wind through the Kaimai Ranges had been a constant companion that morning, rattling the windows of the hotel in Tauranga. March air still carried a hint of summer warmth, but you could feel the autumn gathering its strength. My usual sweep around the drive for dropped items and last-minute checks revealed nothing amiss, just the lingering scent of expensive-yet-generic hotel air freshener. I’d pulled up just as Budi S. was finishing a phone call, his back to me, silhouetted against the glass doors. He was a man of medium height, solid build, but it was the way he held himself, a quiet intensity, that first caught my eye.

He settled into the back seat with a practised ease, stowing a slim, dark briefcase under the seat in front of him. He offered a polite nod. We were heading for Auckland City, a drive that would take us north, through the Waikato heartland and then up State Highway 1 towards the city. It’s a route I know like the back of my hand – the steady flow through Cambridge, the familiar stretch past Hamilton, the occasional traffic bottleneck around Huntly. I kept the soundtrack low, an instrumental jazz station Budi seemed to appreciate.

He’d mentioned, when confirming the booking, that he was flying out of Auckland later that evening. Business trip, he’d said. I made a mental note to keep an eye on the clock, though the drive north from Tauranga is usually straightforward enough in March. The landscape began to change as we moved inland, farm paddocks giving way to more rolling hills. The sun, which had been high and bright, started to put on a show, casting long shadows and turning the sky a soft gold. Budi seemed to be watching it, too, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

Somewhere past the township of Huntly, a small town nestled by the Waikato River, he started to talk a little more. He was from Jakarta, he told me, and this trip was about a potential partnership with a tech firm here in New Zealand. He’d been to Auckland a few times before, for conferences, but this was his first time exploring beyond the city limits. He spoke with a smooth, measured tone, his English impeccable, though with that distinctive lilt that always makes me think of distant shores. He mentioned his family back home, his wife and two young daughters, who he missed dearly. He pulled out his phone and showed me a photo – three smiling faces, captured in what looked like a sunny park. There was a quiet pride in his voice as he spoke about them.

We stopped for a coffee and a stretch at a small service centre south of the city, the kind that’s just functional, no frills. While I brewed myself a strong black I saw him outside, standing by the car, looking out over the fields towards the distant city skyline. It was a long way for a short business trip. He didn’t rush his coffee; he took his time, perhaps reflecting on the days he’d spent here, or perhaps just anticipating the journey home. He seemed to be a man who valued moments of stillness, even amidst the hustle of international business.

As we entered the southern approaches to Auckland, the road traffic began to thicken. The usual mix of commuters heading home and weekenders returning. The light was starting to fade, the city lights beginning to twinkle in the twilight. He was quiet again, his briefcase now resting on his lap. He thanked me politely as I navigated the final kilometres to the airport terminal, the glow of the terminal lights a welcome sight. He offered a final, firm handshake and that same quiet nod. As he disappeared inside, I felt that familiar sense of distance, of having shared a brief, contained journey with someone whose larger life unfolded far beyond my view across the ocean.