Mt Eden Airbnb to Rotorua private car — Mei's business trip

The gearbox had been a bit clunky for a few days, so I decided to give her a quiet morning. Took her down to Steve’s workshop in Papatoetoe, just for a once-over. He assured me it was nothing major, a bit of lubrication and adjustment, but it’s always good to get things checked. Coming back through Manukau, the Sunday morning traffic was already building up, a familiar sign of people heading out of the city for the day. It was a bright, clear Sunday in late March, the kind that hints at an early autumn but still holds onto summer’s warmth.

My next pickup was in Mt Eden, an Airbnb on a quiet, leafy street. Mei L. was waiting by the gate as I pulled up, a compact suitcase and a smartly rolled umbrella in her hand. She looked sharp, business attire even on a Sunday, and gave me a polite nod as she slid into the back seat. She’d mentioned on the phone that she worked for a tech company, and her destination was Rotorua for a business conference starting Monday. Her English was good, precise and thoughtful, and she had a quiet way of observing the world around her.

The drive out of Auckland started pretty smoothly, the usual Sunday flow. We passed through the Bombay Hills, the landscape beginning to open up into farmland. I pointed out the Pokeno service centre as we passed – a classic place for a coffee break. Mei seemed content to watch the scenery change, the rolling green hills giving way to more undulating terrain as we headed south. We crossed the Waikato River near Ngaruawahia, its water a steady brown after recent rains, and I thought about how much of New Zealand’s lifeblood flows through that river. Further on, Hamilton was bustling, and then Cambridge was busy, a pleasant town centre at any time.

As we moved further south, the conversation, or rather, my narration of the passing landscape, flowed easily. I spoke a little about the history of the area, the early settlers, the dairy industry that was still so dominant. Mei listened with interest, occasionally asking a question about a particular type of tree or the way the farms were laid out. She told me her company was involved in developing new battery technology, something she’d clearly dedicated herself to. She spoke about the immense potential, but also the pressures, the drive for constant innovation and the long hours it demanded, even when travelling for conferences. It sounded like a world away from the quiet fields rolling past my windows.

We stopped in Tirau, the corrugated iron capital, for a quick leg stretch and a much-needed flat white for me. This is where we turned off State Highway 1 onto State Highway 5, heading directly for Rotorua. Mei opted for a bottle of water and spent the time looking at the quirky corrugated iron sculptures that give the town its character. Back on the road, the air started to feel different, a subtle shift as we approached the geothermal areas. The faint scent of sulphur began to drift in, a sure sign we were nearing Rotorua. She mentioned that she’d been to Rotorua once before, years ago for a holiday, and remembered the geysers most vividly. This time, though, it was all business, a different kind of exploration.

As we pulled into Rotorua, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows. The air was cool now, carrying the distinct earthy smell of the geothermal activity. I dropped Mei at her hotel, a modern building on the edge of the city centre. She thanked me, her smile a little more relaxed than when she’d first got in. She mentioned she had an early start for her conference registration, and I wished her well. Driving away, the city felt a little sleepy, but I knew it would be buzzing with attendees for the week ahead. I wondered if Mei would find a moment to revisit any of the natural wonders she’d seen years ago, or if the conference would consume her entire visit. For me, it was just another Sunday drive, carrying people and their stories from one place to the next.