The criticism that Auckanders get from the rest of New Zealand is quite frankly unwarranted. Or at least it is most of the time. In our defence, it’s not our fault. Not really. We’re just misunderstood. And to be fair, most of the time it doesn’t really matter. So happy are we in our metropolitan bubble that the outside world, you know the one to the south of the Bombays and beyond the Brynderwyns can do what it likes as long as we don’t need to worry about it. Or heaven forbid, deal with it. Think that’s unfair? Well deal with it! Unfortunately , on occasion, Auckland and the outside world interacts enough to cause us to pause momentarily and look up. Thankfully for both parties it’s fleeting and gone in a puff of realism.
Fortunately for the rest of New Zealand we keep ourselves to ourselves. Well mostly anyway. There are some occasions where a journey outside the Greater Auckland region is necessary. Compulsory even, especially if your employer is paying. Which rather neatly, brings me onto the subject of this blog. See got there in the end....
As part of a wider study - yes one that went beyond Auckland - a colleague and I were tasked with driving around Northland. Northland, for those not in the know is the part of the North Island that extends beyond Auckland. The land to the north if you like. Quite an apt title really. Just like Southland which is....well you can guess.
Inevitably, after a few hours driving, the need to consume caffeine overtook me so we stopped at the next available spot. And, as we were actually surveying rest areas for weary travellers, it would’ve been a dereliction of duty not to.
As we pulled off the main highway and into the quiet town street we started to wonder if there was even a café in this town. There was a butchers, a bakers and probably a candlestick manufacturer but where was the coffee shop? Surely we couldn’t have landed on the only settlement in New Zeland without a coffee shop? Surely not? With a population of around 5m, 1.6m of which live in Auckland, small town New Zealand is particularly small - but even the smallest of townships has a spot serving decent coffee. Then, just visible between the swipes of the wiper blades and blobs of rain we spotted it. Disaster averted.
Whilst I went to inspect the town’s toilets - another work task I was all too eager to compete - my colleague went into the coffee stop. Thankfully the toilets were fully functional and, duly noted such for my employer, I returned the main street and stepped into the café. My colleague had already ordered and was waiting patiently for her hot beverage to be delivered.
I put my keep-cup on the counter top and asked for the usual.
“A long black with trim milk please”
Yes I know it’s not a very exotic order and rather old fashioned amongst the moccas, flat whites and cappuccinos of the world, especially in a coffee obsessed country such as New Zealand, but I like the unfussiness of it all. Plus it’s hard to get wrong.
“You’re another one!” came the rather unexpected response, “we do have cups of our own you know!”
“Just doing my bit for the planet,” I added helpfully, or so I thought.
Before we go any further I’d like, in the interests of full disclosure, to note that “just doing my bit for the planet” didn’t extend to not driving around the countryside all day in a large SUV. But every bit counts doesn’t it? Well it was going to have to - driving around rural Northland in anything smaller than the equivalent of a Sherman Tank with comfortable seating was not going to happen.
Anyway, I was about to exchange further pleasantries when the host pointed to the barista in the corner of the room and nodded to suggest that he would be providing me with my coffee presently. I acknowledged that I understood and wandered over, keep-cup outstretched....
“Here you go,” he noted as he handed me a hot cup of coffee in a paper cup. And not in my carefully considered, environmentally friendly reusable cup. I looked the barista in the eye with a slight air of confusion.
“Feel free to pour it into your own cup,” he suggested before helpfully adding “and there are bins outside” somewhat missing the point.
“The same happened to me,” my colleague reported as I sat next to her on a bench looking out towards the empty, rain-soaked town street and then added “At least you got what you wanted.”
Evidently this town hasn’t yet embraced the delicious delights of a Chai Latte, the Auckland influence seemingly stopping somewhere south of the Brynderwyns. It turns out that my colleague has wanderered up to the counter and without so much of a glance at the drinks menu on the wall asked for her usual. I wasn’t there to witness the exchange but one can imagine it went something like this;
“A chai latte with almond milk please”
“A what?”
“Err a chai latte?”
“We don’t do them, whatever they are”
“What do you have that’s similar”
“Only what’s on the board”
“Oh, what do you have that doesn’t have dairy in it?”
“Black tea.......or black coffee”
“Oh....don’t you have almond mi.......never mind. Black tea please”
“.....what’s this?”
“It’s my keep-cup......you know to save on paper cups....”
No doubt the host muttered something about f*ing Aucklanders under her breath as she turned to enter the sale into the register.
Okay, we should’ve known better - and maybe checked out the menu before assuming. But how were we to know that Chai Latte hadn’t reached rural Northland? They’re everywhere in Auckland! And so there you have it, another nail in the credibility of the argument that Auckland’s is just like the rest of New Zealand.
Jaffas anyone?
