With a furore of passengers in the school holiday crowd lining up behind me desperate to disembark, all I could hear was a crunching sound which may have been the back seat of my scooter collapsing under the weight of those helpfully but fruitlessly pushing the contraption.
Or was that the crunch of their collective vertebrae giving way as they heaved against the machine? In this case, the good citizens were without vital knowledge to provide the help needed - they didn't know me, my machine or its foibles. How could they?
More often than not, you need a degree of familiarity or knowledge to be of service to others.
We stayed at Devonport's grand old dame, the Esplanade Hotel, which prides itself - and rightly so - on the level of service it provides to its guests. They get to know you and provide a personalised service, which extends to running errands to the local dairy. In Auckland, I felt some freedom in the anonymity of the big city, where frivolity can go unnoticed. Waving around a 10ft selfie stick, like a prat, without fear of recognition was refreshing.
I wouldn't, however, want to live there; it's kind of nice to be known and know others around you.
In Whangarei, the public are also willing to lend a helping hand but, because they kind of know me, by virtue of being in a smaller community, they seem to be less likely to go at it like a bull at a gate. Here, somehow, people have a certain sensitivity and ability to read the situation.
Sometimes the best help for a person with a disability - or in fact anyone - is to simply ask and listen.
So thanks, Auckland, for the urban getaway ... but yeah, nah, good to be back.
-Jonny Wilkinson is chief executive of Whangarei-based disability advocacy organisation Tiaho Trust.
