The drive up and down the country may be a bit quicker now – but at what cost?

State Highway 1 is the glorious spine of our country. From Cape Reinga to Stirling Point, the chipseal and asphalt holds our country together at its two-lane, single carriageway core. But since 2010, 27km of its beauty has been lost.

Are you a New Zealander seeking a coming of age experience? Are you a German tourist with lots of Gore-Tex? Did you buy a boat in Ōtago even though you live in Whāngarei because it was cheaper? Do you need to visit your grandparents but also have daily access to a getaway car? Are flights to your Christmas family reunion expensive enough to make you grumpily choose a 10-hour drive instead? 

For all these journeys and many more, it’s State Highway 1 the people turn to. 

This majestic road – skilfully adorned with yellow and white lines, road cones and potholes – should be considered a national monument. If it were, then it would have had protections against decades of unwarranted changes. In 2010, when J. Williams featured Scribe in ‘You Got Me’ and we all lapped it up, our longest road was 2,033 km long. Now I do not know what Scribe is up to and SH1 is only 2,006 km long. Our beloved highway has been the target of ruthless diversions, upgrades and realignments by successive governments left, right and centre.

Gone is the rite of passage of ambling along that little bit of geothermal activity north of Taupō, popping into the Bendon Outlet shop in Ōtaki, passing by Paekākāriki where the girls are cheeky, Huntly, Huntly’s KFC and the secondhand bookshop in Pukerua Bay. Gone is the turn off to Puhoi that looks like you’re about to take a jaunt down a weird country road with some bikers. Hopin Stopin Cafe in Taupiri has lost my business. Gone are thoughts about cheese as you pass Puhoi and thoughts about ice cream as you weave along the Kapiti coast. The pretty gardens of Cambridge may never please my eyes again, nor will the pōhutukawa along the Porirua Harbour. Some people even say that they miss Hamilton, and by that I think they mean the SaveMart there. 

Even the concept of turning corners has all but disappeared: between Auckland and Wellington, there’s just a left turn in Bulls and a right turn in Sanson. The rest of the North Island is an endless drive of natural curves and going straight at roundabouts, punctuated only by roadworks and the giant boot at Taihape. In the South Island, travellers moving on SH1 no longer see the suburban wonders of Belfast, Fairfield or Sunnyvale. One small kindness is that the “Presidential Highway” between Clinton and Gore has been preserved since the 90s. Us people too disorganised to buy domestic flights are quivering on our pedals, worried about the prospect that the Peach Teats billboard could be cut next.

The evil masterminds behind the changes to our roading network have left us with a really long road that gets people driving on it to places faster. If they knew anything about long distance drivers, they would know we are not all out to get places as fast as possible. We’re here with our numb bums, sunburnt forearms and squinty eyes searching for adventure and excellent op-shop finds. Instead, over long stretches of bypassing the journey that could have been, we’re being bludgeoned with the tyranny of efficiency. 

This particular demonic ideology says that things should be done as quickly and effectively as possible. If you’re going for a walk, you definitely shouldn’t stop to smell the flowers. In fact, what you really should do is stay inside and shake your phone to increase the step count. This is quicker and expends far less effort than actually going for a walk.

I know the tyranny of efficiency is alive and well in 2024, but I did also think that we were in an era where we knew forcing people down straight and narrow paths is bad. On a drive from Wainuiomata to Tāmaki Makaurau last week, which only took nine hours including multiple op-shop, coffee and snack stops, there were stretches where I couldn’t tell you where I was because there were no familiar monuments, like Huntly’s Deka sign. The road has been made so efficient that it bypasses some of our most loved unofficial national monuments. Staring blankly at the white lines laid out in front of me, I may as well have been a German tourist. Perhaps it was faster, but life’s a journey – and this journey was boring.