Auckland CBD office to Whangamata private car — Sarah's holiday

The late morning sun was doing its best to push through the grey Auckland sky on Saturday, the 9th of August. I pulled up outside the tall glass building in the CBD, the kind of place where people work serious hours. My passenger, Sarah, a woman in her late twenties with bright, inquisitive eyes, emerged promptly. She was heading for a weekend escape to Whangamata, a place I know well and enjoy driving to, especially in the quieter winter months.

Her suitcase was a smart, compact one, suggesting she wasn't planning for much more than a relaxing break, a chance to recharge. She mentioned she’d been working non-stop for months, and this trip was entirely for herself – no business, no obligations, just sea air and a quiet bach. That’s the best kind of trip to drive someone on, in my opinion. Less pressure, more genuine relaxation.

We joined the Southern Motorway traffic, a familiar Saturday bottleneck. It always takes a bit longer than you expect leaving the city on a weekend, no matter the time of year. Sarah seemed completely unfazed, though. She had a book open on her lap, but mostly she watched the urban sprawl give way to the Waikato’s rolling green hills. We passed the turn-off for Pokeno, the smell of bacon famously wafting from the factory on cooler days. Sarah pointed out a particularly vibrant patch of green on a hillside, remarking on how much she missed seeing the countryside when she was stuck in the city.

As we headed south, the landscape began to change. The flat plains of the Waikato started to undulate, and the road began to curve more as we approached the Coromandel Peninsula. I took the route via the Karangahake Gorge, which is always a bit more scenic than sticking to the main highway, even if it adds a few minutes. The old gold mining remnants scattered through the gorge always make for an interesting backdrop. Sarah was captivated, pulling out her phone to take photos of the old railway tunnels and the rushing Ohinemuri River. She said it reminded her of European landscapes she’d seen in films, which I always find an interesting comparison.

We stopped at a small café just outside Waihi. It was quiet, just a few locals and other travellers. Sarah ordered a flat white and a slice of what looked like a delicious lemon drizzle cake. She told me she’d been dreaming of a quiet beach walk since she’d booked the bach months ago, a place to just walk and think. She confessed that sometimes she felt a bit disconnected from herself when life got too hectic, and these little getaways were essential for grounding. It’s a sentiment I’ve heard from many of my passengers, a common thread in our busy lives.

Back on the road, the final stretch to Whangamata felt short. The air began to smell saltier as we neared the coast, and the light, though still diffuse from the clouds, had that soft, coastal quality. When we arrived at her bach, a charming, slightly weathered cottage nestled amongst pohutukawa trees, she thanked me with a genuine warmth. She said the drive had been perfect – the right amount of quiet, the right amount of scenery, and she felt more relaxed already. I watched her unload her small suitcase, a picture of anticipation, ready to embrace her weekend of solitude and sea air. As I drove away, the sky began to break up a little, hinting at some clearer spells by evening, and I couldn't help but feel a quiet contentment for her, having helped her reach that little slice of coastal peace.