I reached down with my right hand for the turn signal, so why did the windshield wipers go on? No! I turned my head left to look at Anna sitting in the passenger seat. This was going to be a trip...
My brilliant solution to our quandary of how to spend our final week in New Zealand was, “let’s rent the cheapest car we can find and drive all around the North Island until we have to fly home?”
“Yes, let’s do it!” Anna exclaimed. But her face drooped in the very next instant, “aren’t all of the cheap cars manual, though? I can’t drive stick”.
We were all about equal workload. Neither of us wanted the other to feel taken advantage of in any way. I didn’t mind driving and it would be the best way to explore the far-flung corners of the North Island. It would be completely worth it. How else would we get to Ngarunui Beach, home to the longest wave ever surfed? It would be so much easier to get to Hot Water Beach on the Coromandel Peninsula! We could even sleep in the back to save some cash. Ultimately, we decided that I would drive and Anna would navigate and make sure the music never stopped.
And that was how we ended up smack in the middle of downtown Wellington, with me at the wheel of a tiny red hatchback, trying to conjure up enough courage to make a right turn out of the parking garage. I looked at the street and saw cars whizzing by from right to left. I had to get across all of this traffic! I was never going to make it out of the garage. Maybe we should just go and see if they would give us our money back?
At that moment my doubt nearly had full control of me. But, Anna saw a break in the flow and blurted out, “Go!” So, I stepped on the gas, a bit too hard, and lurched forward out of the garage and into the bright bustle of traffic. We were, more or less, successfully on the road.
The highway was straight and quiet as we headed north, away from Wellington, but we were singing at full voice. In a moment of complete shared experience, Anna and I locked eyes and began to convulse in full belly laughter. It was laughter of sweet relief, the kind that not only binds you to the person you share it with but also to the place where it happens. The tips of the trees lining the highway looked like they had been dipped in gold and the sky behind glowed purple. Our belly laughs drifted away into giggles. As we wiped the tears from the creases of our eyes, it hit me that this was not only the first time I had driven on the other side of the road, it was the very first time I had ever rented a car. Welcome to the wide world of adulting!
*From the travel archive May, 2007*