Volcanoland
The istmus of Auckland with its extinct volcanoes, Dr Ferdinand von Hochstetter 1859
I'm on the ferry to Waiheke Island amongst sleek people who look like they don’t vote, wondering why I’ve been bothered by low-level anxiety since I got here, then I remember that I’ve ignored my rāhui on caffeine for two days in a row and have two cups of nasty Airbnb instant in me. It’s Waitangi day and a lot of people have had the same idea as me; there’s at least one hen party on board. My seat is in the perfect spot to watch people having their picture taken in front of the boat’s wake and the receding city. I wonder if anyone’s an influencer. It’s a gorgeous day and aside from the Nescafé-induced scaries I’m thrilled to be here.
If Tāmaki Makaurau has a thousand lovers I might be one of them. I come as a curious student to our big dysfunctional heart. I want to know who’s here and what their relationship to the city is. I want to know all the suburbs and volcanos. I am willing to hear about Auckland’s woes. I’ve not found a lot of love for the city in it’s totality. The wholeness seems to be an issue, like it’s been pieced together carelessly. The city is not kind to people without cars, yet driving is a source of misery for people who do have them. The median house price is just over a million dollars and income inequality is huge between different areas. But once you start talking to people about where they live you find that they identify with specific areas rather than the city as a whole. There are people who live their whole lives in one suburb.
I’m going to Waiheke to learn too. All I know is that it’s said to be some mixture of rich people and hippies, and Lorde filmed a music video there. The boat arrives at Matiatia and I take a bus for a couple of minutes to get to Oneroa. I don't have a plan and there’s not much to see so I go down to the beach. I look up the history of the area and learn that the original name is Te Motu-Arai-Roa. I have the Wellington urge to walk for a few hours and although the island boasts 100km of tracks there are some long-term track closures that limit my options. I figure I’ll head towards Ostend and see how far I get. Trying to follow Te Ara Huna takes me on a climb over some incredibly intricate layered and geometric rocks and around to a smaller beach. I forgot to pack my togs but the water looks beautiful.
The track goes up through pretty and verdant bush. The climbs are not long and come to frequent beautiful views of the coastline, beaches and hundreds of boats. I don’t see anyone else walking on the trails the whole day, I’m not sure what everyone else who came on the ferry is doing, maybe wineries. Some sections of the walk are just road, but it’s not bad. The roads are all small and no one is driving fast. It feels very free and open. There’s a tension between that feeling and all the mansions (the average property value here is $1.6 mil), some of which are flying the New Zealand flag. I don’t know how to explain why that’s weird but you probably already get it. I’m aware that this is a very paywalled area. There are only about a dozen Kāinga Ora units and homelessness in Waiheke is the highest per capita in the Auckland region.
After a couple of hours I head towards Ostend. This part is just road, but it’s fun walking past the houses. I daydream about getting a house sit here and writing for a month. Ostend was named by the winner of a competition in 1915, after the city in Belgium. Like Oneroa there’s not that much to see. I don’t avail myself of any cafes or gelato because the heat is killing my appetite and I need to be able to eat later. I get the bus back to the ferry terminal and leave having learned not that much. It’s beautiful but I don’t really understand the vibe.
Later my friend takes me to the night market. It’s in a basement carpark at a mall in Papatoetoe and I understand the vibe immediately. The stalls of knockoff Crocs, Labubus and hologram Gokus remind me of the tat at Riccarton market that I loved as a kid. There’s an entire nail salon set up on folding tables and the ladies are trying to reel me in. I hope there’s enough ventilation in the carpark for them to work with the nail polish safely - the market is noticeably smoky from the food trucks. My friend says that the market used to be better and that the range of food isn’t as good now, but it’s more than impressive for me. One of the bubble tea stalls has a sound system so that a guy with a headset can announce the orders. There’s a stall with very complicated waffle-based desserts, lots of BBQ, loaded fries, stuffed pancakes and dumplings. I’m glad that my vegetarianism narrows down the choice a bit. I get palusami and spicy tofu steamed buns and my friend gets different palusami and kalo. We go back to her car to eat - there’s only a few plastic stools around the market. The food is insanely good, I forget to take a photo. We go back to get more food for my friend’s girlfriend and real fruit ice creams for ourselves.
The next day I do a number of other things. It's a short visit and I don't do much thinking, but it's refreshing enough to deal with some different geography and have some sensory experiences. I'll do a deep dive another time.
