Newmarket office to Mount Maunganui private car — Hélène's conference trip

The December sun was already beating down on Auckland when I pulled up outside the sleek Newmarket office. It was the start of the summer rush, the kind of heat that makes you wish you'd packed extra ice for the Esky. My passenger, Hélène D, was waiting near the entrance, a small, smartly dressed woman clutching a notebook and looking a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the car. She’d flown in from Nouméa, New Caledonia, for a specialist architects' conference down in Mount Maunganui. It was a long haul from the islands, and I could tell she was keen to get there.

The drive south out of Auckland was its usual crawl. We sat for a good half hour just getting past Sylvia Park, the traffic lights turning from green to red to amber and back again, endless streams of cars inching forward. Hélène didn’t seem to mind. She had her window down, watching the suburban sprawl give way to the green fields of the Waikato. She told me, in her careful English, that New Caledonia’s landscapes were very different – volcanic mountains, a lot of bright, almost garish green, and the immense, turquoise expanse of the lagoon. It sounded stunning, though I’ve always been a bit more drawn to the solid green hills of home.

We eventually broke free of the city, hitting the open road. The air conditioning, thankfully, was working overtime. I pointed out the Bombay Hills, always a sign that we were properly heading south now. Hélène asked about the local agriculture, peering at the vast dairy farms with their contented-looking cows. She mentioned how much she appreciated the quiet of the countryside after the bustle of Nouméa and her short stay in Auckland. Her conference was the main reason for the trip, a chance to present some innovative sustainable building designs she’d been working on. She expressed a quiet pride in her work and the growing global interest in eco-friendly architecture.

We stopped for a coffee and a stretch at a service station just past Huntly. The place was humming with activity – families on holiday, tradies on the road, all grabbing a quick break. Hélène bought a Whittaker's chocolate bar, which she’d heard good things about. Back in the car, she unwrapped it slowly, taking small bites as we drove through the rolling hills towards Cambridge. The conversations turned lighter then, away from architectural principles and towards travel mishaps and favourite foods. She recounted a hilarious story about her first time trying to navigate a supermarket in Europe, completely baffled by the sheer variety of cheese.

As we approached the Kaimai Ranges, the landscape started to change again. The hills became more dramatic, more rugged, hinting at the coast to come. We drove through the winding, slightly tighter roads of the Karangahake Gorge, a place steeped in gold mining history. I told her about the old tunnels and the stories they held. She expressed a fascination with them. We passed through Paeroa, famous for its Lemon & Paeroa drink, and then through Katikati, the afternoon sun glinting off the water in secluded coves. She took a few photos on her phone, a small smile on her face.

We arrived in Mount Maunganui just as the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the sand. The air was warm and salty, a distinct change from the inland heat. I pulled up outside her hotel, the iconic Mount Maunganui crater looming behind it. Hélène thanked me, her earlier apprehension replaced by a quiet confidence, ready for her conference and perhaps a bit of beach time. She mentioned she hoped to walk up the Mount before she left, even if she only made it halfway. As she gathered her things, she wished me well for the busy summer ahead. I watched her walk into the hotel, a small figure with a big ambition, ready to share her vision for a greener future.