A few days in Auckland
Tuesday, 2 February
I arrived at my first Airbnb in Auckland pretty late into Saturday evening. So late, in fact, it was too dark to find the lockbox and I ended up jumping a fence to get into the backyard. With mud and some sort of green mossy substance all down my front, I decided to retire to bed as soon as possible. I had chosen a small guesthouse in a suburb called Royal Oak in South Auckland. It often takes me a few days to work out which areas have the most ‘vibe’ in a city. I can firmly say I did not find it on my first try. Royal Oak is known for a particularly busy roundabout and a small and rather-tired looking shopping mall. Thankfully, I had booked tickets to Hobbiton for the Wednesday but this meant I was presented with three days in Royal Oak and Auckland which is about two and a half too many.
When I woke up on the Sunday, my first proper day in Auckland, it was a beautifully sunny day which felt like a good omen. But before I could take advantage of this, I thought I better get some life admin out the way. Specifically, a clothes wash was overdue so off to the launderette I went. One thing I will not miss from this trip is having to go to a launderette. This is because it usually entails a very bored employee explaining how these specific machines work before I set up shop for an hour waiting for my clothes to wash and dry in a dusty, dank room. When I had ticked that off my list, however, I took a stroll through Cornwall Park (first pic) and then nipped over to Mount Eden for sunset (second pic). One thing I really loved about Auckland was seeing its green hills rise up through the middle of the city. Mount Eden is the tallest of 53 dormant volcanoes in the area. Standing at 196m, it was once a fortified Māori settlement dating back to the 13th century. It has a huge crater (now with a viewing platform running around it) where Moari legend tells of a deity called Mataaho who lived there and who was the guardian of the secrets hidden in the earth.
I was once told that the best way to start a holiday is to get up high so you can get your bearings. Auckland’s Sky Tower offers that opportunity. Standing at 328 metres, it is the second tallest tower in the Southern Hemisphere (28m taller than the Eiffel Tower for reference).
I was once told that the best way to start a holiday is to get up high so you can get your bearings. Auckland’s Sky Tower offers that opportunity. Standing at 328 metres, it is the second tallest tower in the Southern Hemisphere (28m taller than the Eiffel Tower for reference). It offers a 360-degree of the metropolis below. It’s a popular attraction for tourists but that might also be because there’s not much else to do. Despite being fully aware of my fear of heights, I decided to join the tourists on day two in Auckland. I bought my ticket and got in the lift that takes you up 45 floors to its observation deck. When I stepped out onto the deck I was immediately struck with a sense of vertigo. Rather embarrassingly, a couple of people had to side step around me as I reached for a railing just around the corner from the lift. I slowly inched my way round the circular ‘skydeck’, hugging tight to the inner wall. I squeezed the railing so hard my knuckles went white and I could feel myself starting to perspire. I managed to let go of the railing long enough to get a photo of a young girl fearlessly peering through the perspex window on the floor, completely unfazed and impervious to the fear that had so strongly gripped me. It left me wondering at what age I had developed this fear of heights. After ten minutes I decided I had had enough and took the lift back down to the ground floor where I worked out that it had cost me £2 a minute to be up there.
Regaining my composure, I wandered the streets in the CBD for a while, stopping in a coffee shop and Victoria Park, named after Queen Victoria of course and a reminder of the British Crown’s influence here. As I walked a few blocks I picked up on a peculiar vibe to the city. Looking around, I noticed that everyone seemed to be dressed down, almost out of respect; the cars were old or simple and it was quiet for a Saturday as people kept to themselves. I wondered what it was that had struck me. Later that evening, when I went out for a beer, I spoke to someone who offered up one explanation. She had just moved to Auckland and explained this concept in NZ called ‘tall poppy syndrome’. An interesting concept where a successful or arrogant individual is ‘cut down’ by societal pressure that encourages humility and conformity above all else.
On my way back from the city I was caught in torrential rain and was taught another lesson about New Zealand - it doesn’t matter what the weather looks like in the morning, always pack a raincoat. The main cities in NZ are subject to extremely temperamental weather as they are all exposed to a blustery and wet coastline. I was drenched to the bone wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and shorts, and stayed trapped under a cafe veranda for a good twenty minutes (see video).
I got up slowly the next day, not feeling particularly motivated after ticking off the biggest park, mountain and tourist attraction in the first two days. I was keen for a day that felt more on my terms and less about ticking things off a list. My Airbnb host suggested I go to Lido Cinema, a boutique picture house dating back to the 1920s that was only one suburb across from me. Since I didn’t have my rental car yet I jumped on the bus again and when I arrived I bought a ticket for Marty Supreme. I thought the film was good, yet it is a film about ping pong so you’ve kinda limited yourself there already Mr. Safdie. A core theme running through the film is how Marty (the protagonist played by Timothée Chalamet) has an unwavering determination to become the best player in the world underpinned by a willingness to sacrifice everything and everyone along the way. This resonated with me, in a way, as it dawned on me that I was in New Zealand alone, able to choose exactly what I wanted to do, where to go and when. The freedom to totally and unequivocally focus on myself was exciting. When the film had ended and night had fallen, I hopped on a lime scooter instead of the bus and took a detour through some suburban streets. I put my earphones in and let ‘Marilyn’, a song by Caribou, ring through my ears. I sang it all the way back to the house hardly feeling the drizzle of rain that began to patter on my face.
