Hotel DeBrett to Snells Beach private car — Mei's holiday

The air in Auckland on the first of October already had a hint of spring, a promise of warmer days after a long winter. I was parked outside Hotel DeBrett, a classic Auckland spot, waiting for my passenger. She was dressed smartly, a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, with a small but sturdy-looking suitcase by her feet. She introduced herself as Mei L. as she stepped out.

Her plan was to head north, all the way to Snells Beach in the Matakana region. A holiday trip, she told me. She’d been on business in the city for a few days and wanted to see some of the coastline before flying out of Auckland later in the week. I loaded her bag into the boot, and we set off. The usual Auckland crawl through the city centre traffic was a familiar start, but once we cleared the northern motorway, the open road beckoned.

Mei was quiet for the first hour or so, content to watch the city give way to rolling hills and farmland. We passed through the familiar northern suburbs, then the open country near Silverdale, and soon we were tracing the path north toward Wellsford. I can’t recall many specific conversations from that initial leg; it was mostly about the landscape unfolding outside the windows. She seemed observant, taking in the green paddies, the distant sheep, the big sky. I pointed out where the landscape starts to change once you pass through Wellsford, looking towards the coast.

Around lunchtime, I pulled into a small café in Warkworth. It was one of those local places, simple food but good coffee. Mei mentioned she’d tried laksa back in Malaysia, and I told her about a good Malaysian place I knew in Auckland, though it was a bit out of the way for this trip. She smiled, a genuine, warm smile that lit up her face. She then spoke a little about her home city, Kuala Lumpur, the bustling streets, the food markets, the mix of old and new architecture. It’s always fascinating to hear people’s perspectives on their home turf when they’re exploring a new place.

As we got closer to Snells Beach, the road twisted and turned, offering glimpses of the Hauraki Gulf through the trees. The air grew saltier, and the light shifted. She seemed to relax further, her shoulders dropping a little. She asked if I knew Snells Beach well, telling me she’d booked a small bach (beach house) right near the water. She was looking forward to just reading, walking on the beach, and enjoying the slower pace. No grand plans, just a simple break.

We arrived at her bach just as the afternoon sun was starting to dip towards the horizon. It was a sweet little place, the kind that looks like it’s been there forever, weathered by the sea air. I helped her with her bag, and she thanked me, her voice full of that gentle appreciation. As I drove away, the waves seemed to whisper a welcome. I headed back towards the motorway, the quiet of the car a contrast to the vibrant energy I’d picked up from Mei earlier that day. Sometimes, the most memorable trips are the ones where the destination is less about the place and more about the peace found there.