Awkward Auckland

One always has expectations of a place, and perhaps that's why I came to hate Auckland.

Times I cried

• On the plane

• When the plane landed

• In the taxi

• When a waitress asked me whether I was after a table for one

This list says it all about my time in Auckland. I was unhappy, alone and lonely, jobless, homeless, hopeless, and a drama queen as usual. It was also compounded by the painful contrast of having just had an amazing month travelling Japan with friends and family. We laughed and laughed, I was surrounded by people, I had no worries. On my own in Auckland, the real world hit like a brick catapulting from one of the city's many skyscrapers. I spent time walking the docks and swimming in the sea, but when boat porn or being in the water can't cheer me up, I know it's time to move on. Alain de Botton drummed in my head: 'you take yourself with you on your travels'.

What I expected:

Lush green grasses, crystal blue waters, steep hillsides as far as the eye can see, native bushlands, and no people.

And what I saw:

The best photo I could take of skyscrapers to try convince myself Auckland was beautiful.

Skyscrapers, traffic jams, traffic lights, and lots of rubbish. Just another big capital city.

But also why is it that as soon as you see or experience whatever it was you immediately forget what you were expecting. Mind boggle either way, but I knew I didn't like it.

07/01/24

Instinctively, when a stranger approaches me and I sense trouble, I put my phone to my ear and convincingly enter conversation with my father whose profession can turn quickly from a London-based psychotherapist to a ferocious heavyweight boxing champion. I cannot recommend this more, it’s often got me out of trouble. And one morning in Auckland I smelled trouble, in the pungent stale stench of alcohol coming from a man not walking but crawling towards me. My first thought, ‘hey at least I could run away’, was interrupted as he was now at my feet and muttered, tentatively and almost shyly, ‘give me your phone’. My reply, louder than his: ‘sorry, hope you don’t mind I’m using it, I’m just on the phone’. Embarrassingly in my best queens English but always best to stay polite. He grumbled an ‘ok’ and crawled away. With my then inflated ego as I’d just won the battle in a violent mugging, I skipped down the street. It was 9am and I hated myself that I was craving avocado, poached eggs, and smoked salmon for breakfast. Inequality is a bitch and Auckland is a city that readily shows extremes. Life could’ve turned out so differently and I am incredibly fortunate. It was a good lesson for the day and buoyed me just to be grateful regardless of the misery I felt being alone in Auckland. I hated the city and was itching to move on. It was not the New Zealand I’d dreamt of.

I had to leave. On my way out of Lylo Hostel feeling smug.

Renting a car with an expired drivers license should be impossible. It is illegal. Yet somehow... The man at the Avis desk was clearly not paying attention, or he was blind. Either, but happily fraudulent I revved my new Mitsubishi 4x4 out to car park and sped on to the highway. I wasn’t going to miss Auckland.