Hotel DeBrett to Palmerston North private car — Marie's family visit

The air in Parnell wasn't exactly crisp that August morning, but it had that certain 'winter's almost over' promise about it. Hotel DeBrett is always a bit of an oasis, and Marie V. was waiting just inside the lobby, a small suitcase at her feet and a look that was a mix of anticipation and, I thought, a touch of melancholy. She was heading to Palmerston North. Family visit, she'd told the booking agent, but there was a quietness about her that suggested more than just a holiday.

She settled into the back seat, and we pulled away from the city, the usual Auckland weekend traffic already starting to build even on a Thursday. We took the Southern Motorway route, the grey-brown ribbon of State Highway 1 south. It’s a familiar drive, the rolling hills giving way to the flatter plains of the Waikato. Marie was quiet for the first hour or so, watching the landscape blur past. She’d mentioned she was originally from Belgium, now a long-time resident of Auckland, and that this trip was to see her sister, who lived south of Palmerston North. Her sister hadn’t been well, she let slip, a detail that explained the slight tremor in her voice when she spoke about it.

We bypassed Hamilton, heading south towards Tirau and then the SH1 turn-off for the central plateau. The light was muted, the sky a uniform pale grey, and the paddocks were a deep, saturated green. I pointed out the vast pine forests that carpeted some of the hillsides, a common sight in this part of the North Island. She nodded, her gaze drifting, and spoke a little about the countryside near her childhood home, the Ardennes, a world away from the gentle undulations of the Waikato. She said it was beautiful in a different way, more rugged, more ancient.

We stopped at a little service centre just north of Taupō for coffee. The air was cooler here, the smell of damp earth and pine needles noticeable. While I fuelled up the car, Marie bought a small pastry and stood by the window, looking out at the lake, a vast expanse of steely blue under the overcast sky. She didn’t say much, but I sensed she was drawing strength from the quiet, perhaps preparing herself for whatever lay ahead in Palmerston North. She had a small, worn photo frame on her lap, which she’d occasionally trace with her finger.

Back on the road, the terrain changed as we moved south towards the Manawatū. The hills became more pronounced, then flattened out again into wide plains. The signs for State Highway 56 and then State Highway 3 pointed us towards Palmerston North. The further south we drove, the more she spoke about her sister. Their childhood together, the silly arguments, the shared dreams, the way life had taken them down different paths, one staying in New Zealand, the other having moved back to Belgium many years ago before recently relocating to the North Island. This would be the first time Marie had seen her sister in person for over two years, and the distance had been hard, especially with her sister’s declining health.

As we approached Palmerston North, the light was beginning to fade. The plains here are vast, a patchwork of fields stretching to the horizon. The air felt heavier, more humid. We navigated the city streets, and I dropped her off at her sister's place, a neat little bungalow with a well-tended garden. A woman stood on the porch, leaning slightly on a cane, her face pale but her smile warm as she watched Marie emerge from the car. I saw Marie hand over the small suitcase and then, before taking a step towards her sister, she stopped and looked back at me for a moment. There was a flicker of gratitude, a silent acknowledgement of the journey and the miles covered. I gave a slight nod, a subtle wave, and then drove away, leaving them to their reunion. I had a booking for a motel just outside the city, a quiet place I often used when the long haul south meant an overnight stay. The silence in the car as I headed there felt different, filled not with absence, but with the quiet weight of families reconnecting, of journeys ending and new phases beginning.