My yearly trips to Rotorua, New Zealand, are always filled with fun, joy and pleasant surprises – especially watching my young grandchildren bike, compete in decathlons, and enjoy the outdoors. But the visits haven’t always been just about family.
I have also had the opportunity to meet people, sometimes strangers who radiated warmth, kindness and authenticity. One such couple that I had immense pleasure of meeting was Jenefer Clark and her husband, Bruce Waterworth.
Bruce was a patient of my son, Dr Prashant Hari Dass. Bruce and Jenefer had invited my son to visit their farm and they very graciously extended the invite to us. My husband Dr Hari Dass Pillai and I jumped at the idea as it was too good an experience to miss.
One serene afternoon, my son took my husband, me and my four-year-old grandson Pranam Hari Dass (who was enticed by the promise of a tractor ride) on a 60km drive to Tirohanga where Jenefer and Bruce were waiting for us at their cosy home snuggled in the heart of the countryside.
I was told that Bruce owned one of the largest lamb trading farms in North Island. He was in his late 70s but was bustling with energy and enthusiasm to show us around his 1,000 acre (404.7ha) farm.
But first we settled down for a warm cup of English tea and some delicious fruit cake. We were lucky to taste the last morsels of Jenefer’s dad’s birthday cake. Jenefer’s father George Clark had turned 103 on March 8 and he also happened to be the father of Helen Clark, the former prime minister of New Zealand.
After tea, we were shown around Jenefer’s colourful garden and Bruce’s vegetable patch where he grew worms for improving the yield of his vegetable and fruit produce. I was indeed amazed to see hundreds of slender white worms wriggling in organic rich soil.
What awaited us next was a ride in Bruce’s four-wheel drive. The drive up the almost vertical hilly pastures was certainly not for the faint-hearted.
It was almost similar to the exhilarating drive through the sand dunes in Dubai. It required skill, the right vehicle and an understanding of the mountain terrain.
At the top, the view that unfolded was just breathtaking. The air was crisp while the sky was a vast canvas of blue and white fluffy clouds. The meadows sloped downwards to reveal Bruce’s house. It seemed small, nestled in the vast expanse of the landscape.
Standing there at the crest of the hill, there was a sense of peace – a moment where nature felt boundless and time slowed to a gentle hush. I felt gratitude for being alive and for having experienced life’s fleeting yet profound beauty. It left me humbled and uplifted.
Soon it was time to go downhill. On the way we saw the sheep grazing lazily, an old waterhole and even a small airstrip which was used by small planes to spray fertilisers.
One would never imagine what was in store next. Bruce unveiled his two beauties – a blue and a red vintage car, both Fords that were almost a century old!
They were still in excellent condition and Bruce had often used them to drive the length and breadth of New Zealand! It was amusing to see him pour petrol into the front-mounted fuel tank.
Off we went in an open-top car, breeze tossing our hair as we drifted through what felt like a dream. My grandson was thrilled – it exceeded all his expectations.
As birds soared overhead, I realised the best journeys aren’t about speed, but about the wind, the ride, the company, and the quiet joy of simply being.
Without the hood, we felt completely exposed yet deeply connected to the car and to this wonderful couple who was so hospitable to us, who were total strangers. Their warmth touched us.
When it was time to leave, Bruce pulled me into his blue vintage. This time, the others came in tow in my son’s car. Another drive in a vintage car! Wow! What more could I ask for?
At the end of the trip I gave Bruce a big hug. There were tears in his eyes. I am not sure why but I guess it was because we all felt deeply connected.
These rare connections remind you that some bonds are meant to be – effortless and magnetic.
So it was with a twinge of sadness that we bade goodbye to our two new friends, the Waterworths.
They had left a mark on us – a reminder of the beauty of fleeting connections; proof that some encounters no matter how brief can be etched in one’s memory forever.
