We could only speculate on the influence of these formative years. Did the testosterone-fuelled Latin lessons of Crowe’s youth lead, inevitably, to his seminal role in Gladiator? (See also: Auckland commute times and Unhinged).
I rode the sightseeing bus for three hours and spent 80% of the trip wondering who broke Auckland.
At the zoo, the main vehicle entrance was closed for an upgrade. At the museum, Te Marae Atea Māori Court and Pacific galleries were indefinitely shut (asbestos). Bastion Point’s only toilet option was a portaloo. City rail link and bus interchange construction works meant it took a full five minutes to drive 400m down Wellesley St between Federal St and the art gallery (where the roof repairs are, apparently, almost finished).
“I’ve always dreamed about driving the State Highway 1 from start to finish,” said our unnamed narrator, and I am certain, should she ever make that dream a reality, she will be eating Bluff oysters in actual Bluff long before anyone on the Auckland Explorer arrives at the museum cafe and pays $14.50 for a coffee and a chicken sandwich.
“About 200,000 vehicles a day pass through the criss-crossing motorways just ahead,” said the narrator.
“Remember, our city is located on a narrow isthmus between two harbours, so every highway headed north or south has to pass through this bottleneck. Aucklanders have a poetic name for this tangle of concrete. We call it Spaghetti Junction.”
It was, from this vantage point, oddly beautiful. Sleek snakes of asphaltic concrete; progress and egress with a verdant fringe.
We entered the Auckland Domain and it smelled like a weekend. At the country’s oldest plant nursery, lawns were being mowed left, right and centre.
“It was established in 1841 in order to cultivate European trees and plants and distribute them all over the city. Our colonists wanted to recreate the parks and forests that they’d left behind in Europe … nowadays there’s a greater emphasis on the native New Zealand species as a way to sustain the delicate balance of our ecosystems.”
Earlier, we had driven through Epsom, named after the English town of Epsom, famous for its thoroughbred races at Epsom Downs.
“We call this a ‘leafy suburb’,” said the narrator. “A polite way of saying most of us couldn’t afford to live here.”
I caught a dry chuckle from a man in a Harley Heaven T-shirt at the front of the bus who declined to be interviewed.
“Your safety is our first priority,” said the narrator. “As a courtesy to other passengers, please do not talk while the commentary is playing … please ensure your hands, arms and head remain inside the bus at all times.”
At peak patronage, there were roughly a dozen people on my bus – experienced tourists with water bottles, sensible Lord of the Rings bucket hats who photographed the scenery and not (as per my commissioning editor’s instructions) themselves. Fun fact: There are around 200 fern species in New Zealand and about 2000 terrible selfies on my iPhone.
Welcome to Newmarket, another of the city’s best attractions. It has a stylish Westfield Shopping Mall and was strategically important to various Māori iwi who occupied land here and knew the area as Te Tī Tūtahi – sacred cabbage tree standing alone.
“The cabbage tree was a landmark for those travelling between the Manukau and Waitematā harbours,” said the narrator. “Sadly, it was cut down in 1908 as it was considered a danger to the children attending the local school.”
Death by 200-year-old navigational landmark. A fate surely worse than exiting a Newmarket mall carpark on any given Saturday between now and Christmas.
From October through April, the Auckland Explorer extends its route to take in even more of the city’s best attractions.
“To your left,” said the narrator as we trundled along Boston Rd, “you’ll spot the impressive Mt Eden Prison. This historic site was built in 1882 using volcanic stone quarried from nearby cones. For over a century, it housed some of New Zealand’s most notorious prisoners before closing in 2011.”
At the base of Maungawhau/Mt Eden, a cheerfully cliched German exited the bus (“Okay, this is me, going for a little hike”) and we learned the terraced slopes were part of an ancient Māori fortified pā, removed as they were considered a danger to children. Obviously I made that last bit up. I did not make this bit up:
“Take a moment to appreciate the stone viewing platform. It was actually built with the help of an elephant called Tom. Tom the elephant belonged to Prince Alfred, the Duke of Edinburgh, who picked him up on a visit from Nepal. In the 1870s the two continued on to Auckland where Tom obligingly hauled freshly quarried stone for the viewing platform to the summit of Mt Eden. He accepted no payment beyond a steady supply of sweets and beer.”
It’s easy to make selective fun of a tourist commentary, but I’ve lived in Tāmaki Makaurau for almost 20 years and never, ever heard that story. Step aside Kashin, Tom is the GOAT – a pachyderm who parties.
Why do people ride the Auckland Explorer?
Kussy, originally from Venezuela, has lived in the South Island for more than two decades.
“I arrived for the Lenny Kravitz show. It’s the first time I’m spending enough time in Auckland to actually do something touristic … There are a lot of things that I didn’t know that were actually here. Like the motor museum, for example.”
(Confession: I have never been to the Museum of Transport and Technology, or Motat, but for the purposes of this story, I did read its most recent annual report. New acquisitions include a Spark modem and a TVNZ satellite).
Queenslanders Shane and Michelle only arrived in Auckland by car (after a North Island tiki tour) on the morning of their Explorer trip. They paid $80 apiece for 48-hour passes and reported they were enjoying the flexibility of visiting attractions for as long as they wanted, with no tour guide hustling them to get back on track. Also, they were less likely to argue than when they self-drove.
Ralf (from Germany) said, “We don’t have much time, and I think it’s the best way to see things. Everywhere I go, I do these bus tours. Hop-on, hop-off. It’s always easy, always perfect and organised.”
Conny (also from Germany) liked that she didn’t have to drive. Although, “I have the feeling that New Zealanders are a lot more relaxed. In Germany, with all that construction … everybody would be going toot-toot-toot. I haven’t heard that once here.”
I recorded the Auckland Explorer script, and the transcript ran to more than 8000 words. At least 30 of them were “rugby”, “all” and “blacks”. According to our narrator, “Kiwis share an obsession with our national sport, rugby union”. Nobody exited the bus in Kingsland to “find a groovy coffee spot or stroll over and discover Eden Park”. Ditto Auckland Zoo and Motat.
Measuring 11km from coast to coast, Auckland is, said our narrator, “one of the world’s most walkable cities”. I cannot overstate the hilarity of hearing that sentence as we inched towards a city-bound on-ramp.
The commentary was, of course, not all elephants and Sir Ed. It was conversational and informative. From the importance of helping to avoid the spread of kauri die-back to a crash course on Kiwi slang (tiki tour, tramping, dairies, “sweet as” and “yeah, nah”).
We learned about Sky Father Ranginui and Earth Mother Papatūānuku and their children who became gods. We were introduced to Pōtatau Te Wherowhero, who lived at Pukekawa (Auckland Domain) before he became the first Māori King, and received a brief lesson on Te Tiriti o Waitangi, the nation’s founding document – an agreement written in English and Māori and, over the course of seven months in 1840, signed by about 540 rangatira or chiefs.
“Most of them signed the Māori version,” said the narrator. “Which unfortunately was not translated accurately from the English version. Some rangatira refused or had no chance to sign, but the Colonial Office in England declared that the Treaty also applied to all Māori iwi …”
Protests. Demonstrations. Legal challenges. The bus commentary did not resile from history, but I wondered how long ago this sentence was recorded: “Thankfully, previous Governments have recognised the significance of Te Tiriti in the life of our nation, and it has been woven into our framework of laws, customs, and legislations.”
I held my breath as we approached Takaparawhā. I remember watching the television news. As an 8-year-old I didn’t really understand what was happening. Adult me knows that the Bastion Point occupation was undone by 800 police and soldiers. The bus commentary was concise and sobering. It name-checked Ngāti Whātua leader Joe Hawke. Outlined the arrest of 222 people and the destruction of gardens and buildings, and then, in 1987, the Waitangi Treaty Tribunal’s decision to return the whenua to iwi.
The bus pulled into the carpark. Tāmaki’s downtown skyline was a grey blip sandwiched by blue sea and bluer sky. “Hop off here for amazing photo opportunities,” said the pre-recorded commentary. And I did.
On the return trip, we passed another green space, with just a church and a urupā. The narrator told us that until the 1950s, it was the site of a Ngāti Whātua settlement. Residents were shifted when the local authority of the day wanted the real estate.
“After moving the residents, the city council decided to burn the village down to remove all traces before a royal visit by the Queen. Today, the area is held in a reserve as a park that can be enjoyed by all. As the lands are considered sacred or tapu by Māori, under New Zealand law no one can ever build or develop the land here.”
Kelly Tarlton’s. Ports of Auckland. Maui and his magical hook. The New Zealand Maritime Museum. Britomart, named for the British brig that raised the first Union Jack over Auckland in 1840. Kupe, who discovered Aotearoa while chasing an octopus away from Hawaiki.
“The ocean surrounds us, isolating us from the outside world,” said the narrator. “This was one of the last lands on Earth where humans settled.”
Kim Knight joined the New Zealand Herald in 2016 and is a senior journalist on its lifestyle desk.
