Mt Eden Airbnb to Tauranga private car — Klaus's holiday

The sun was just starting to burn off the morning dew when I pulled up to the neat little Airbnb tucked away on a quiet street in Mt Eden. December in Auckland, felt it in the air already – that pleasant, almost expectant warmth that signals summer is well and truly settling in. My passenger, Klaus, was standing on the footpath, not quite ready but looking ready enough, a well-worn backpack at his feet. He had that look about him, the kind you see on travellers who’ve been on the road for a bit, a quiet confidence and an easy smile.

He was German, originally from near Munich, and this was his first proper jaunt around New Zealand after needing to postpone a trip due to the pandemic a few years back. He’d been in Auckland for a few days, doing the usual tourist circuit, but now he was heading to Tauranga, keen to explore the beaches and get a feel for the Bay of Plenty. He mentioned he’d read about the beaches near Mount Maunganui and wanted to check them out for himself.

We loaded his bag into the boot, a smooth, efficient process. As we headed out of the city, the early December traffic was already starting to build, the usual crawl through the Southern Motorway junctions. Klaus seemed unfazed, content to watch the urban landscape give way to paddocks and scattered housing estates. He’d brought a small notebook, and I saw him jotting things down occasionally – a particular bird he’d spotted, the way the light hit a certain hill. He wasn’t the chatty type, but there was a keen observation in his quietness.

I decided to take the Karangahake Gorge route to Tauranga. It’s a bit longer than the direct Tauranga road via the Kaimais, but the scenery is just spectacular, and it breaks up the journey nicely, especially for someone on holiday. We stopped at the old railway tunnel entrance, the air cool and damp inside, the remnants of mining history all around. Klaus spent a good ten minutes just walking around, taking photos of the rusted machinery and the old tracks. He told me his grandfather had worked in the mines back in Germany, a similar era, and he found the parallels interesting. It was a moment of connection, acknowledging how different places, different countries, can share similar stories of industry and endeavour.

We continued on, the road winding through the gorge, the Ohinemuri River rushing alongside. The light filtering through the trees dappled the tarmac. Around Paeroa, the landscape opened up, and we passed by the ‘world’s biggest bottle’ sign, a brief nod to local quirkiness. Klaus chuckled when he saw it, recalling similar roadside attractions he’d encountered on his travels elsewhere.

We stopped for lunch at a small café in Waihi, a classic Kiwi pie and a flat white for me. Klaus opted for a sandwich and a sparkling water, watching the locals go about their day. He asked about the local economy, about the shift from mining to tourism, and I shared what I knew – the way towns adapt, how things change. He listened intently, making more notes. It wasn't small talk, but a genuine curiosity about the place he was visiting, wanting to understand the layers beneath the surface.

As we approached Tauranga, the coastline began to appear, glimpses of blue sea through the rolling green hills. The air changed, carrying that unmistakable salty tang. He’d booked a place overlooking the water, and as we pulled up to his accommodation near Mount Maunganui, he thanked me with that same easy, quiet smile. He was looking forward to the next few days, excited about exploring the beaches and perhaps even a boat trip out to see the dolphins. It had been a pleasant drive, a quiet journey filled with shared observations and a gentle unfolding of his interest in New Zealand’s past and present. The sun was lower now, casting long shadows as I headed back towards the city, a good day’s work done.