Mt Eden Airbnb to Katikati private car — Tevita's business trip

The sky looked a bit grumpy over Mt Eden that morning, a typical mid-August day in Auckland. Grey, with a hint of dampness that promised to stick around. I pulled up to the address, a neat little villa tucked back from the main road, looking for my passenger. It had been a few weeks since I’d been this way, heading east out of the city, usually busy commercial routes. This felt a bit different, more residential, quieter.

He came out just as I was about to give him a courtesy honk. Tall, dignified, with a kind of stillness about him. He was dressed in a smart, dark suit, carrying a slim briefcase and a small, well-worn duffel bag. Tevita M, the booking said. From Tonga, heading to Katikati for business. It’s not uncommon for people to fly in and then need a comfortable private transfer to smaller centres; Auckland Airport can be a long haul for some. He settled into the back seat, a polite nod, and I started the engine, easing out onto the road.

We didn’t talk much at first. He seemed content to watch the Auckland suburbs blur past, the rain starting to fall in earnest as we climbed the Bombay Hills, then petered out as we descended towards the Waikato. The Southern Motorway was its usual self, a steady stream heading south, but we were early enough to avoid the worst of the congestion. My usual stop for a quick coffee and leg-stretch is Pokeno – good pies there, and they’ve got reliable WiFi. Tevita seemed to appreciate the break, stepping out into the cool, crisp air. He mentioned he was catching up with a cousin in Tauranga later in the week, a brief aside that gave me a little insight into his wider plans.

Heading east from the main highway towards Karangahake Gorge is always a treat, even on a cloudy day. The old mining town of Waikino passed by, then the dramatic cliffs and the winding river. That section always makes me think about the history of the place, the ambition and the struggle that went into carving that road out of the rock. Tevita pointed out a few of the old mining relics visible from the road, a casual observation that showed he’d done his homework on the region. He’d spent the last few years working in a specialised agricultural role, flying in and out of Auckland for meetings and field visits. He spoke of Tonga with a quiet pride, the islands, the culture, the changes he’d seen over the years. His work involved developing more efficient, sustainable farming practices, something he felt was crucial for the future, not just for Tonga but for many smaller island nations facing environmental challenges.

As we neared Katikati, the landscape opened up. Rolling hills, the smell of damp earth, and the first glimpses of the harbour. It was quiet here, a stark contrast to the bustle of Auckland. He was meeting with a local agricultural cooperative, he explained, discussing partnership opportunities for a new pest-resistant crop he’d been working on. It sounded important, the kind of work that you know makes a real difference on the ground, beyond just balance sheets. He wasn't one for excessive detail, but the passion for his work was clear in the way he spoke about the potential benefits for growers.

I pulled up outside a modern-looking office building on the edge of town. The rain had completely stopped, and a weak sun was trying to break through the clouds. He thanked me, his departure as calm and collected as his arrival. It’s always satisfying to deliver someone to their destination, especially when you get the sense they’re heading there to do good work. As I turned the car around for the drive back towards the city, the late afternoon light was starting to paint the sky in muted colours. Just another driver, another trip, but you always learn a little something. Today, it was about resilience, about planting seeds, both literally and figuratively, in challenging ground.