Epsom address to Cambridge private car — Jennifer's business trip

The sky above Epsom was that pale, hazy blue you get in February. It promised heat, but hadn't quite delivered yet. Jennifer L’s house was one of those grand old villas, the kind that have seen a lot of Auckland history, set back from the road with a well-tended garden. She came out right on time, dressed in smart business casual, carrying a small, stylish carry-on. She had an easy smile and a bright energy about her, the sort that makes you feel you're embarking on a perfectly organised day rather than just a long drive.

She explained she was here for a series of meetings, starting in Cambridge. A consultant, I gathered, from the way she spoke about strategy sessions and client expectations. Her accent was unmistakably American, though she didn’t mention where in the States she was from, and I didn’t ask. It’s usually best to let people volunteer that, if they wish. Onwards we went, heading south out of the city, the morning traffic on the Southern Motorway already starting to thicken. We slipped past the Bombay Hills and through Pokeno, the landscape beginning to flatten out into the familiar Waikato green.

Jennifer seemed content to just watch the world go by. She pointed out a particularly vibrant patch of flax near Huntly, mentioning how different the native flora was from what she was used to. We stopped at a popular service centre just before Hamilton for a coffee, the air already warm now, carrying the scent of cut grass and something vaguely floral. She bought a local magazine, flipping through it with mild curiosity. Back in the car, she told me a bit about her work, the challenges of bridging cultural differences in business, and how she found technology helped, but there was no substitute for face-to-face meetings.

As we approached the Waikato River, the water a steely grey under the midday sun, she mentioned she'd lived in California for years but had started her career in New York. That explained the polished efficiency about her. She’d travelled extensively for work, but this was her first trip to New Zealand. She'd booked a few days specifically for this, then a short break to see some of the sights. She loved the slower pace of life here, even with the business obligations.

Cambridge is a lovely town, all manicured streetscapes and charming architecture. I found her hotel easily, a boutique place near the centre. As she gathered her things, she thanked me for the smooth journey. She seemed genuinely relaxed, ready for whatever her schedule held. I watched her walk into the hotel lobby, a small, confident figure ready to tackle the day. On the drive back to Auckland, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the fields. It had been a good trip, simple and straightforward, the kind that reminds you why you enjoy this job – the brief, quiet connections made on the road, the glimpse into different lives passing through.