Grand Mercure Auckland to Turangi private car — Gareth's family visit

The Grand Mercure Auckland, always a good starting point. A touch of old-world charm in the city, and the morning light was catching the harbour just right as I pulled up. My passenger today was Rhys M, who hopped in looking ready for the road. He was originally from Wales, as he shared, and had made Auckland his home for a good few years now. He was heading down to Turangi for a family visit, a journey I know well.

The route south always feels like a bit of an escape from the city bustle. We cleared Auckland and headed onto State Highway 1. The landscape starts to shift almost immediately after you pass the Bombay Hills. The concrete and glass give way to rolling green fields, dotted with sheep that seem to outnumber people by a significant margin. Rhys seemed to appreciate the change of scenery, his gaze fixed on the passing countryside. He mentioned how, even after living here for a while, the sheer expansiveness of New Zealand’s rural areas still struck him.

Our first main stop was Pokeno. It’s become a bit of a must-do for anyone driving this stretch, especially for the ice cream. Rhys decided to grab one, and even though it was only October, the sun was warm enough that it felt like a treat. We chatted, or rather, he shared stories of his homeland, the valleys and the mountains of Wales. He described the dramatic coastlines and the close-knit communities. It sounded like a place with a deep sense of history and tradition, something he clearly carried with him.

Back on the road, we continued through Huntly and Ngaruawahia. These towns have seen their share of change over the years, but they retain a certain character. The Waikato River is a constant companion for much of this leg, a wide, powerful ribbon of water carving its way through the land. Rhys commented on the different river systems he’d encountered, comparing the Waikato to the rivers he knew from his youth, each with its own personality.

He spoke about his family down in Turangi. He hadn’t seen them in quite some time, a common theme for those who travel across the globe to be here. The excitement in his voice was palpable as he anticipated the reunion. He recounted memories of past family gatherings, the warmth and laughter that defined them. It was clear that family was a cornerstone for him, and this trip was about reconnecting and cherishing those bonds.

As we moved further south, the landscape began to change again, becoming more open, with a drier feel to the vegetation. The destination, Turangi, sits on the Tongariro River, near the shores of Lake Taupo. It’s a region defined by its geothermal activity and the imposing presence of the Tongariro National Park’s volcanoes – Ngauruhoe, Ruapehu, and Tongariro itself. Even from a distance, the peaks possess a majestic, almost watchful quality. Rhys pointed them out, his voice hushed with a sense of awe. He’d done some hiking in the national park on previous visits and described the raw, untamed beauty of the place, the volcanic plains, and the vibrant colours of the thermal areas.

He elaborated on the unique environment of the central North Island. He mentioned how it reminded him, in some ways, of certain parts of his native Wales, but with a distinctly volcanic character. The geothermal energy, the steam rising from vents, the sulphurous scent occasionally carried on the breeze – it was a landscape unlike any other. He shared his fascination with the power of the earth, the forces that shaped this land over millennia.

We bypassed Hamilton and Cambridge this time, sticking to the main highway, but the essence of the Waikato region still permeated the journey. The rich, fertile land is the agricultural heartland of the country, a testament to the volcanic soils inherited from the past.

As we approached Turangi, the air grew cooler, a crispness that hinted at the proximity of the mountains. The Tongariro River, clear and swift, came into view, a promising sign for those who enjoy fishing. Rhys grew quieter, his focus shifting inwards as the destination neared. The anticipation was setting in, the end of a long drive and the beginning of something more personal.

Pulling up to his family’s home, I saw a group of people emerge, arms outstretched. The greeting was warm, full of affection. Rhys’s face lit up. He thanked me, a genuine smile on his face, expressing his gratitude for the safe and comfortable journey. It’s always a good feeling to deliver someone to their loved ones, to be a small part of their journey, especially one so emotionally significant. As Rhys gathered his bags and stepped out, I watched him embrace his family. Another trip completed, another story woven into the tapestry of my days driving these roads. The drive back to Auckland would be a quiet one, filled with the memories of a Welshman’s journey home.