I am helping make a house bigger, extending the living area of a home that would be pretty sweet to live in. The house sits atop a hill and it is like a crater surrounded by slightly higher hills, all covered in native bush. It is close enough to Matakana too, an area of beaches and wineries.
I park in the main township each morning and buy coffee from the Black Dog Cafe at the end of the street where the shops become houses. Last Saturday the street filled with Aucklanders who travel north for the carefully manicured “Farmer’s Market”. A market where you can exchange half your child’s school fees for a jar of pickles.
Matakana is about an hour and a half from Auckland, it is too much to drive up everyday so I had a search online and found the address to a place only a short drive from the main centre.
I drove down the long driveway littered with potholes and at the end it opened into a large flat section with a two storey house in the middle. Behind the house there was a compound made up of ‘portacoms’ – steel boxes used for temporary offices – and inside were bunk beds, all unlocked and with nobody around.
I just let myself in basically. I have stayed in this ramshackle dwelling for 3 nights. I saw the owner once, I owed him for one night and gave him the $20, he seemed slightly surprised that I was giving him money and didn’t even know I had stayed there. I told him I planned to stay a few more nights and he said “yeah, whatever”. haha
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