Novotel Auckland Airport to Waitomo Glowworm Caves private car — Léa's special occasion

The December sun was already beating down pretty hard on the tarmac when my phone pinged. A pickup from the Novotel at Auckland Airport. Standard enough, but the destination was Waitomo. Bit of a trek for a solo drop-off, but business is business, and I’m not one to shy away from a good drive.

Jean-Luc D. arrived at the pickup point right on time. He was dressed immaculately, a crisp linen shirt and tailored trousers, the sort of attire that suggested he wasn't just off to see some caves. He looked excited, a sort of nervous energy about him. He explained, as we loaded his small suitcase, that he was meeting his fiancée in Waitomo. She was already there, having flown in from overseas. This was intended to be a surprise, a romantic reunion before their wedding. He’d booked the caves as a special prelude, a bit of magic to kickstart their life together after a long period of long-distance apart.

The drive south from Auckland is always a good one. We picked up the Southern Motorway, making our way past the familiar Auckland suburbs. The Christmas decorations were already starting to appear on houses, a splash of colour against the green of the paddocks. Jean-Luc seemed quite taken with it all, gazing out the window with a pleased sort of expression.

We skirted around the main congestion south of the city, heading towards the Bombay Hills. The scenery started to open up then. Rolling hills, dairy farms dotted with contented-looking cows, and the distinct scent of fresh cut grass hanging in the air. Pokeno whizzed by, a familiar milestone. I always think of those famous pies when I pass through. Jean-Luc mentioned he’d never been this far south before, not really. He lived in Auckland, having moved from New Caledonia a few years back. He said he loved the vibe here, the blend of city life and accessible nature, but he’d mainly stuck to the metropolitan area. This trip, he explained, was all about venturing out, about experiencing something new and memorable.

As we approached Huntly, the Waikato River came into view, a wide, powerful ribbon of water snaking its way through the landscape. Jean-Luc pointed it out, expressing his admiration for the river’s scale. We continued on, the landscape becoming a little flatter, a little more agricultural. The air grew warmer, carrying a faint, earthy smell. I remembered him saying his fiancée loved nature, and he thought these caves would be a perfect setting for their reunion. He’d already pre-booked their tour, wanting everything to be perfect. This wasn't just a trip for him; it was a carefully orchestrated romantic gesture.

Ngaruawahia slipped past, and soon enough, we were on the road leading towards Hamilton. The highway was clear, the traffic light, which always makes for a more pleasant journey. Jean-Luc was looking at photos on his phone, presumably of his soon-to-be wife. He showed me a couple, and she looked absolutely radiant. He explained that they had met online and then had to navigate a considerable distance for their relationship to blossom. He spoke of the challenges of maintaining a connection across continents and time zones, and how this trip was the culmination of all that effort.

From Hamilton, we took the State Highway 39 towards Otorohanga. The land here is incredibly fertile, a patchwork of greens and browns. Jean-Luc was unusually quiet for a stretch, lost in his thoughts, no doubt anticipating the moment he would see her again. I could only imagine the butterflies he must have been feeling. He’d mentioned it was their anniversary of meeting, a significant date they wanted to celebrate somewhere truly unique. He'd spent weeks researching potential locations, wanting something that felt both ancient and magical, and the glowworm caves had captured his imagination.

As we got closer to Waitomo, the landscape began to change subtly. The rolling hills became more pronounced, and the vegetation denser. There was a sense of heading into a more ancient, untouched part of the country. I dropped him off at the entrance to the Waitomo Glowworm Caves. He thanked me warmly, a genuine smile finally breaking through his nervous anticipation. He paid the fare, shook my hand firmly, and then disappeared into the visitor centre, brimming with an eager hope. I watched him go, a silent wish for his romantic reunion and upcoming wedding carried on the warm December air. It’s moments like these, the quiet anticipation of joy, that make the miles worthwhile.