The landlord of the hotel at which we stayed—the 'Waitemata'—having recommended us to take a drive into the interior, we set out at midday by stage coach for Onehunga. Auckland being situated at the narrowest part of the North Island, Onehunga, which is on the west coast, is only seven miles distant by land, though five hundred by water.
The coach started at noon, and it was hard work for the four horses to drag the vehicle up the long steep hill at the back of the town. Nice country-houses stood on both sides of the road, amidst fresh green gardens; the houses almost buried in foliage.
From the high road a magnificent landscape stretched before us. It reminded me very much of a particular view of the Lake of Geneva, though this was even more grand and extensive. The open sea was at such a distance, and so shut out by intervening high land, that it was scarcely visible. The lovely frith or bay, with its numerous inlets, islands, and surrounding bright green hills, lay at our feet. The blue water wound in and out amongst the hills on our right for a distance of about fifteen miles. There was a large open stretch of water, surrounded by high mountains, towards the west. Right before us was the entrance to the bay, with the pilot-station hill on one side and Mount Victoria on the other. Between these two hills, high land stood up in the distance, so that the whole gave one the impression of a beautiful inland lake rather than of a sea view. It was, without exception, the most magnificent prospect I had ever looked upon. Yet they tell me this is surpassed by the scenery in other parts of New Zealand; in which case it must indeed be an exceedingly picturesque country.
We drove along through a pretty green country, with fine views of the plains toward the right, bounded by distant blue mountains. In about another quarter of an hour, after passing through the village of Epsom, we came in sight of the sea on the west coast, and were shortly set down at Onehunga, on the shore of Manukau Bay. Onehunga is a small township, containing a few storehouses, besides dwelling-houses, with an hotel or two. The view here was also fine, but not so interesting as that on the eastern side of the island. Plains, bounded by distant mountains, extended along the coast on one side, and high broken cliffs ran along the shore and bounded the sea in front of us. After an hour's rest, at Onehunga, we returned to Auckland, enjoying the drive back very much, in spite of the inconveniently-crowded coach.
There was a sort of gala in Auckland that evening. A promenade concert was given on the parade-ground at the barracks, at which the band of the 'Galatea' played to the company. The Prince himself, it was announced, would perform on the occasion. It was a fine moonlight night, and the inhabitants of Auckland turned out in force. There must have been at least two thousand well-dressed people promenading about, listening to the music. The Prince's elephant was there too, and afforded a good deal of amusement. How the poor brute was slung out of the 'Galatea,' got on shore, and got back on ship-board again, was to me a mystery.
I went down to the steamer at the appointed time of sailing, but found that the 'City' was not to leave for several hours after time. The mail express was to wait until Mr. and Mrs. Bandman—who had been acting in Auckland—had received some presentation from the officers of the 'Galatea'! It seemed odd that a mail steamer should be delayed some hours to suit the convenience of a party of actors. But there are strange doings connected with this mail line. Time is of little moment here; and, in New Zealand, I suspect time is even less valued than usual. They tell me that few mails leave New Zealand without having to wait, on some pretext or another. There does not seem to be the same activity, energy, and business aptitude that exists in the Australian colonies. The Auckland people seem languid and half asleep. Perhaps their soft, relaxing, winterless climate has something to do with it.
Having nothing else to occupy me before the ship sailed, I took leave of my Australian friend, gave him my last messages for Maryborough and Majorca, and went on board. I was wakened up about midnight by the noise of the anchor coming up; and, in a few minutes more, we were off and on our way to Honolulu up the Pacific.