Cordis Auckland to New Plymouth private car — Giulia's business trip

The morning Auckland air, even ten floors up at the Cordis, still had that faint damp chill of early spring. October in the city could be like that – a promise of warmth fighting a lingering cool draft. My passenger was due at 9.30 am, heading south, a fair old trek to New Plymouth. I pulled up outside the hotel just a few minutes past the hour, the attendant calling ahead. Through the revolving door, a young woman with dark, cropped hair and sharp, confident eyes emerged, a small, sleek briefcase in hand. She looked ready for business.

Giulia R. was her name. She’d flown in from Milan just the night before, she explained, after what sounded like a marathon of flights. This trip to New Plymouth was for a crucial meeting with a local agri-tech firm, something about sustainable farming innovations. She was here representing a European consortium, looking to invest. She had the air of someone who knew her stuff, and the quiet intensity to match. We loaded her case into the boot, and I pointed her towards the back seat. The city traffic was just starting to build, but nothing too terrible for a Sunday morning. We nudged our way out of the downtown streets, heading for the Southern Motorway. Outside the window, the city gave way to the characteristic Auckland sprawl, before the green hills of Papakura and eventually the rolling pastures of the Waikato began to unfurl.

As we cleared the Bombay Hills, the landscape opened up. This is always a good stretch of road, especially heading south. The motorway hums, and if you’re with a quiet passenger, you can almost feel the vastness of the country opening up around you. Giulia seemed content to watch the scenery, occasionally glancing at her tablet. She spoke briefly about her work, the complexities of international investment, the cultural nuances of striking deals in different parts of the world. It wasn’t forced conversation, just observations shared. She mentioned that NZ’s primary sector, especially dairy and its associated technologies, had a strong reputation back home, hence the interest.

We stopped in Hamilton for a quick coffee and a stretch. The main street was quiet, a few early risers grabbing a paper. She chose a flat white, strong, no sugar. We were back on the road within fifteen minutes, the afternoon sun beginning to dip lower in the sky. The drive from Hamilton to New Plymouth takes you through some beautiful country, a mix of farmland and undulating hills, eventually leading towards the coast. The terrain starts to change, becoming a little more rugged as you approach Mount Taranaki, though it was largely hidden by cloud this afternoon. I told her a little about the region, the rich volcanic soil, the surf breaks further down the coast.

She’d mentioned in passing that her grandfather had been a farmer, back in the Veneto region, and that’s where her own interest in agriculture stemmed from. It was a nice detail, grounding her international business persona in something more personal. She spoke about the importance of understanding the land, of not just seeing it as a resource but as something to be nurtured. It was clear she had a genuine passion for the subject, beyond just the financial implications. As we drew closer to New Plymouth, the clouds broke briefly, revealing the majestic, snow-capped cone of the mountain, a truly breathtaking sight for anyone, let alone someone seeing it for the first time.

I dropped her off at her accommodation, a modern apartment complex not far from the CBD. She thanked me, her smile now a little more relaxed than it had been that morning. She had a busy day ahead, a formal dinner that evening, and then the all-important meeting the following day. As I pulled away, I looked back at the iconic mountain, its peak sharp against the darkening sky. It was a solid day’s drive, and I’d enjoyed the quiet company and the glimpse into the world of international business and agricultural passion. Another trip, another story to tuck away.