Novotel Auckland Airport to Whitianga private car — Fiona's special occasion

The air conditioning in the Novotel lobby was pushing the cool out, a welcome relief from the February heat already building outside. I spotted Fiona M. near the coffee counter, her small suitcase tucked neatly beside her. She looked ready for a holiday, not for an intercity drive, but there was a hint of something else in her eyes – a quiet anticipation, like she was heading towards something much bigger than just a change of scenery. She’s from Scotland, she told me later, Glasgow to be precise, but had been living in Auckland for a few years now, the grey skies back home a distant memory she only visited in her mind.

Her destination was Whitianga. A wedding, she explained, a friend’s daughter getting married on the Coromandel. It’s always a pleasure taking people to these happy occasions, a nice break from the usual business trips or airport transfers. We loaded her bag into the boot, the familiar scent of leather and cleaning spray filling the car, and pulled away from the airport’s organised chaos. The southern motorway was already starting to hum with traffic, the usual crawl through South Auckland looming.

We navigated the usual Auckland traffic, heading south on State Highway 1. The sun was strong, glinting off the widespread farmland as we passed through the Bombay Hills. It was beautiful driving, one of those days when the road just seemed to open up before you, inviting you onwards. Fiona pointed out a particularly vibrant patch of lupins blooming beside the road, a splash of purple against the green and gold. She mentioned how they reminded her of flowers back home, though she admitted the New Zealand variety seemed to grow with a bit more swagger and less dampness. We stopped for fuel and a quick stretch at Pokeno, the classic road trip indulgence of a hot pie tasting just right even on a warm day.

The landscape began to change as we turned onto State Highway 2, heading towards the Coromandel. The fields gave way to a more rugged, tree-clad terrain. We passed through the Karangahake Gorge, a favourite stretch of road for me. The old mining history of the area always fascinates me, the traces of that past embedded in the hills. Today, however, the focus was less on history and more on anticipation. Fiona spoke about the wedding, the family flying in from overseas, the sheer logistics of it all. She talked about the bride, a girl she’d watched grow up, and the feeling of seeing someone you care about step into such a significant moment. It wasn’t just a wedding; it was a milestone, a gathering of people bound by years of shared memories.

As we drove along the coast, the air grew thick with the smell of salt. Whitianga’s harbour came into view, a pretty blue expanse dotted with boats. I pulled up to the Airbnb address she’d given me, a pleasant-looking place with a small garden vibrant with flowers. She gathered her bag, a genuine smile now softening the earlier quietude. As she stepped out of the car, she turned back and said, “Thank you, Harry. It was a good drive.” It was her genuine appreciation that always stays with me. She wasn’t just a passenger; she was a storyteller, and I’d been given a small glimpse into a narrative of connection and celebration, a story travelling from Glasgow to the Coromandel coast, all via a few hours on the road.

Leaving her to it, I turned the car around and headed back towards Kopu and then onto the main highway. The afternoon sun cast long shadows, and the journey back felt different, a quiet echo of the purpose that had brought me to the coast. It's these journeys, these brief immersions into different lives and destinations, that make the driving so much more than just miles on the clock. It’s about the people and the moments they’re rushing towards, or returning from, all facilitated by the simple act of getting from A to B.