QT Auckland to Whakatane private car — Jerome's conference trip

December in Auckland is always a bit of a mad rush. The city hums with a different kind of energy as the year winds down. I was picking up Jerome T. from a smart little place in Parnell. He’d arrived a couple of days earlier from Rarotonga, and this was his first real trip back to Aotearoa since before the world got complicated.

He was waiting on the porch, looking every bit the islander – relaxed, a gentle smile, wearing a bright floral shirt that seemed to vibrate with the heat of his home. He carried one smart, surprisingly compact suitcase. He told me he was heading to Whakatane for a tech conference. Not the usual kind of passenger looking for an intercity drive, and I found that interesting. Usually, it’s business people heading to Wellington or people visiting family in Rotorua. A tech conference in Whakatane felt a little niche, and I was curious how he’d ended up with a private car for the whole journey.

As we pulled away from the city, he explained that his company had sponsored his attendance, and they'd sorted out the travel. He much preferred a private drive, he said, rather than dealing with the hassle of flights in and out of smaller centres, especially with the summer holiday traffic starting to build. We settled into the rhythm of the Southern Motorway, heading south. The city gradually melted into the familiar green hills of the Waikato.

Jerome spoke softly about Rarotonga. He’d lived there for fifteen years, loving the pace of life, the connection to the ocean, the community. He was a software developer, working remotely for a company based in the States. The conference in Whakatane wasn’t exactly his usual stomping ground. He confessed it was more of a networking opportunity, a chance to meet people face-to-face in the industry. He seemed a little out of his element, but also quietly excited about the prospect.

We stopped at a small café just off the main road near Tirau, the corrugated iron town. He ordered a strong coffee and a slice of something sweet. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and showed me a few photos of his home. The turquoise lagoon, the lush green mountains, children playing on the beach. It looked like paradise, and I could see why he’d embraced island life so completely. He spoke about the challenges too – the remoteness, the reliance on imports, the ever-present threat of the ocean rising. Subtle things, he mentioned, that weren’t always visible in the postcards.

Back on the road, as the landscape started to flatten and the pine forests became more prominent, we headed towards Rotorua and then turned east onto State Highway 30. The talk turned to the conference itself. He’d prepared a short presentation on user experience design in remote work environments, a topic close to his heart. He wasn't a natural public speaker, he admitted, but he believed in his subject. I could tell he was nervous but determined. He hoped to make some connections that might lead to more opportunities back home, perhaps even bringing some tech skills to the Cooks Islands.

We passed through the small towns along the highway, the air beginning to smell faintly of salt as we got closer to the Bay of Plenty. The sun was starting its descent, casting long shadows across the farmland. Whakatane appeared in the distance, nestled by the water, the familiar outline of the coastal hills a stoic silhouette against the fading light.

I dropped Jerome at his hotel. He thanked me, a genuine warmth in his gratitude, and mentioned he was looking forward to a quiet evening before the conference kicked off. He’d had a good trip, he said, enjoying the chance to reflect and prepare, and to see a bit more of New Zealand than he usually did. As I drove away, I imagined him stepping out onto the beach later that evening, a world away from the digital discussions he’d be having the next day. It was a quiet end to the trip, but one that left me with a lingering sense of curiosity about the different paths people take to find their place in the world.