PART SIX: WAIHEKE ISLAND

Rangitoto is one of the many islands in the Hauraki gulf, and among these, Waiheke is one to which Auckland has expanded.  Fifty years ago, this was the kind of place where alternative life stylers lived or where city dwellers would have a batch – a simple, informal beach house.  Very few people living on Waiheke would have worked in Auckland city.  Since then,  Waiheke has evolved and there are now about two thousand people who commute daily to the CBD, a small wine industry has developed, and the simple batches of old are no more, most of them having been bought and demolished to make way for smart  -- or, to use a common Kiwi term, ‘flash’ -- holiday homes.  The most luxurious and most perfectly sited are worth very serious money – multiples of millions of dollars – and aren’t necessarily owned by wealthy Kiwis.   So, the character of this delightful island is changing and instead of a place where alternative life stylers can hang out, it has become a venue for well paid city workers and the very well heeled absentee owner.

To get to Waihekei, I took one of the regular ferries, joining people who, like me, were visiting the island for the day, together with a few residents returning from the city.  Although it was early winter, the day was warm, there was a balmy breeze, and the sun was shining.  The journey takes around 45 minutes on one of the ferries run by Fullers, who also run the Waiheke bus services and provide conducted tours of the island and the vineyards, a neat bit of commercial synergy.   The voyage provides a good view of the CBD and harbour area, as well as a perfect view of Rangitoto, a long extinct volcanic island which has true iconic status in Auckland.   Matiatia, the modest harbour where the ferry docks,  is overlooked by one of the multi million dollar houses. Also unexpectedly present on the wharf was a staff member who happened to be a Sikh. Auckland's multi-ethnicism has extended to Waiheke Island.  

The population expansion wasn't particularly obvious at the beaches -- it was 'winter' despite what, by UK standards, could pass for a summer's day. There were few people wandering along the deserted beach at Onetangi bay, where I left the tour bus and stopped for lunch at a smartly casual seaside café, which offered a sophisticatedly informal menu, a good range of wines, and a table from which to enjoy the view and the comings and goings of fellow customers. All the incredients for the good life were present, including some very smart holiday houses in which to enjoy it.

By now,  my visit to Aotearoa was coming to an end.  On my last evening, I took the ferry to Devonport,  a short trip across the harbour from the CBD .  At the restaurant where I dined I was greeted by a continental European hostess, waited on by a Turk, and ate food prepared by Korean and Philipino chefs, working to a menu designed by the absent French head chef.  The waiter, who had been in NZ for ten years, said that he liked Auckland because everyone minds their own business and you can live your own life: live and let live.  This seemed to be an encouraging view of my home country, and as I waited for the ferry back to the CBD,  I took in the night time view of the city, reflected in the harbour, and engaged in a few reflections of my own, the subject of my final blog, Reflections.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/75004468@N08/sets/