Fortunately after the near disaster the night before, my last day driving through the Coromandel Peninsula was rather uneventful, which is exactly what I needed. I followed the empty road up to the top of the peninsula where it cut across to the Western shore, an area of more pebble beaches and small coastlines as opposed to the picturesque Eastern beaches such as Cathedral Cove, Hahei Beach and Hot Water Beach. The road meandered over a few more large hills before coming down to the water's edge, following along the coast about 10 feet above water level. Parts of the road were covered by a canopy created by rows of short, weathered trees that had been molded by the winds, with some overhanging branches arching over the road below, though still providing views of the water, and, off in the distance, Auckland. The day was mostly overcast with slight bits of rain though still rather pleasant. I thought the melancholy atmosphere was appropriate for my last day on the road with Willy, happy to have been able to see so much, but a bit shocked by the incident the night before and sad that I'd soon be back in the city and finished touring the spectacular countryside. I longed for some music to accompany me and my mood, and Jan A.P. Kaczmarek's soundtrack to Finding Neverland was the perfect blend of brooding, yet elegant classical music.
I made a final stop in the town of Thames at the base of the peninsula. A typical small town with a few major roads, I searched for a phone booth, and I meant to find an internet cafe to see if I could find an Automobile Association office. I found out a few days earlier that I carelessly forgot to file the last piece of paperwork when I bought Willy, so David received a letter saying that the sale was never completed, so I hoped that I could work that situation out before arriving in Auckland and trying to sell the van soon afterwards. As luck would have it, I drove all the way to the end of town before finding a phone booth, and while on the phone, I looked up and noticed an AA office no more than 30 feet away from me. I went in, was the only customer in the place, and I was able to pay the $9 fee and get the van completely taken care of in less than 5 minutes, which was so much better than having to go into Auckland and the middle of downtown and dealing with long lines and things like that. Soon, I was back in Auckland, back at the same hostel as before in the pleasant, Victorian neighborhood of Parnell. The next morning I called Jobst to sell my van and be ready to leave in a week's time, but he bluntly let me know that he decided not to wait and bought another van the day before. I guess he didn't feel the need to let me know, and the frustrating thing is that he wasn't at all remorseful or apologetic despite the agreement we had from our emails.
With selling Willy the main reason I was back in Auckland so early, I moved on to my next options. I posted and re-posted a bunch of ads on the internet (which I had already done), and I started corresponding with a few shady emailers that were surely scams, as they'd have their agents come pick the car up and bring a cashier's check or money order. I thought I'd give it a chance in case it was real, but I continued to get a bad feeling about these two people, so I was very cautious and not too optimistic about my chances. I would have one random caller or email every few days, stringing me along, keeping me checking email frequently during the day for updates, but three or four different customers fell through. The problem is that the timing of the sale is horrible. There are tons of backpackers finishing out their summers in NZ, trying to get rid of all sorts of cars and vans before heading back home, so the competition is fierce, with signs and postings littering the streets and message boards of any hostel, internet cafe or similar place in town. Many of the backpackers are also needing to leave quickly and thus cutting their selling prices in half, killing the competitive market for me. I had bought a nicer van from David, in much better condition, more reliable and way less miles than these other cars, and I knew that I'd need to find a Kiwi buyer to appreciate that and hopefully fetch the price that I was asking, $5,000.
I went to a car fair on Sunday, along with about 50 other vans and numerous other cars, but the foot traffic was rather scarce, mostly other sellers looking around and comparing prices of their own cars. I had one man that wanted to use Willy as a tour van up North, but he told me that the price was a joke, and he offered to pay $2,500 if I wanted to get rid of it. I got his business card, hoping it wouldn't come to that but not too encouraged by my prospects. I had another Scottish guy that was buying a van for the winter in which he'd live, and then he was looking to make money in the spring by selling it to some of the first backpackers of next year, which is a fairly good idea, if you have the time. Most of the four or five hours at the car fair were spent standing outside the van, chatting with the two German girls, Tina and Juliane, next to me who had a rather shoddy minivan, complete with a bed in the back, cow print curtains, black electrical tape pinstripes and name of the front "Chiller Bag," and life sized poster of some surfer guy taped to the ceiling of the van. They told me about their adventures, and they also agreed that my price was way too high. We also laughed at a German couple who had apparently mastered their own sort of sign language/hand signals as one of them would get up close to the cars and check it out while the other stood far away, making a few small gestures with their fingers at about waist level. We figured if we could pick up their code, we could trick them into buying our cars, but the system was indecipherable. One more Japanese guy came by and seemed interested in the van, though he insisted that the mileage could not be real and must've been rolled back. Frustrated, I explained that it wasn't the case, but I really didn't care to argue with him about it. Half an hour later, he came back and examined the van from front to back for about 20 minutes, checking out the nooks underneath the carpet, the owner's manual (which, heaven forbid, is a generic Toyota Hiace one, not specific to Willy), my service records (thanks to David) and everything else imaginable. I found one good record that did a good job proving the mileage records over the past ten years, though he still assured me that "any Kiwi wouldn't believe that." (being quite the Japanese Kiwi himself, apparently) He lectured me on how cars are driven in NZ, and how it still couldn't be real, but I again didn't feel like disputing the point. In the end, he got my information, and I got his, but it was hard to tell what, if anything, would happen with that. Besides that, my only other option was a construction worker who saw the car online and had a look. He was really impressed with the condition of the van, but he kept delaying his decision and leading me on, but in the end he went with a cheaper van. It's hard not having a phone at times, as I had to balance out continually calling him to get updates while not bothering him or sounding too desperate, which soon became the case after I realized how hard it was going to be to find a buyer.
I was supposed to leave on Tuesday, but I still hadn't found any buyers, so I had to call United and push back my flight. I moved it back one week for $150, hoping that I wouldn't have to do that again. A day or two later, I got an email from my Japanese "friend", GG, saying that he'd still be interested, so of course I jumped at the chance. He came by the hostel and looked over the van again very thoroughly, and he then took it out for a test drive. He had a bit of trouble with the manual transmission on the column, but he wasn't as bad as the rental car owner in Wellington a month earlier. He also wanted to test Willy's power up the hills of Auckland, which isn't necessarily his strong point, but luckily GG apparently isn't a fan of shifting too often, so Willy did seem fairly formidable as he revved up the hills. Everything went well, and he told me that he'd get back to me (those dreaded words that I'd already heard too much), and he also told me that his wife's first reaction was the the mileage had to be fake. I again explained that I understood his point, but I had the records and no reason to believe otherwise, especially knowing that my friend had owned the car for the past couple of years. I spent the next few days waiting and walking around the streets of Auckland, Queen St (the main tourist thoroughfare), and a few of the local parks. Finally, as time was drawing down for the week, and it looked as though I'd have to try out another of the car fairs on the weekend, I was starting to get worried. GG kept looking at other vans and was pushing back the deadlines. He asked me what my lowest price that I'd take would be, though he let it slip that he was looking in the $4,000 range, as I was thinking that I might have to take $3,000 or 3,500 for the van, so I decided to tell him that I could go down to 4,300, hoping to not lose too much money on this sale. As the days went by, I hoped that I hadn't ruined the deal, so I decided on Thursday night that I'd call him the next morning and tell him that if he bought it now for 4,000, he could have it. I figured I'd give him time to get up and around, so I'd call him at 8:30...as it happens, I received an email from him at 8 am that morning.
I was scared to open it, fearing that I may have lost another potential sale and that I'd have to start the process all over. Amazingly, I opened it, and he decided that he wanted to offer $4,150, so I was ecstatic. I played it cool and called him a bit later, telling him that the price would be fine with me, and we planned to make the transaction that next day, Friday. With my last day with Willy, I decided to drive around Auckland a bit more, visiting a few of the hills and lookout points of the city. I first went to a huge green volcanic hill called Mt. Eden and smirked at the tour groups that came and went. I next stopped at another of the larger volcanic cones, One Tree Hill, so I of course had to get out my iPod and listen to the U2 song of the same name. Quite a good one from Joshua Tree. Unfortunately, One Tree Hill is now a misnomer, as the tree that stood alone atop the mound is no longer there, but I didn't hear the story of its demise. Later, GG picked up the cash and gave me directions to his house nearby, so I cleaned out my things from Willy and headed over there, excited to finally be done with all of this hassle and worrying. When I pulled up, though, it looked as though something was wrong. GG explained that he thought I'd be taking the mattress, attached table and bed stand out of the back, though he never said a word about that to me. He was particularly concerned about the mattress, telling me that there was no way he could get rid of it and actually acting as if this were a deal-breaker for him. The 50-something, gray haired Japanese guy said that he didn't have time to deal with that, as his new business was starting on Monday. After a lot of staring and thinking, I decided that we could call the Salvation Army, and I'd drop it off on Saturday as well as try to take apart the frame for him before returning in the afternoon for the sale. I couldn't believe the situation, but I was willing to do any sort of work to make sure the transaction went through...
(The green, terraced crater of Mt. Eden. You can see the city skyline and the point of the Sky Tower in the left center of the picture)
(Willy on his second to last day in my possession, with the skyline looming overhead)
(It's not often that you get a picture of a cow and a city skyline at the same time)
(The former spot of the tree on One Tree Hill)
(The City of Sails on my last day with Willy)
(A controversial billboard from a funny show about a fake psychic. There are a few other good ones around town, and I took this shot from the road, on the way to the Salvation Army.)
(The City of Sails on my last day with Willy)
(A controversial billboard from a funny show about a fake psychic. There are a few other good ones around town, and I took this shot from the road, on the way to the Salvation Army.)
