The state of AI two years on
Two years ago I started a series called "Is AI a tool, a gimmick, or the death of us all". It was a 5 part series examining AI and what it is doing for us, what it will do for us, and what it can't do for us. For interest here are the articles:
In this series I'd like to explore what AI is like two years on. I'm hoping to see whether or not the advancements made mirror what I said in the articles, and if we're still heading in the direction I felt AI was going to take us in.
So I thought that the best place to start was a post that looked at the very first query I did. So let's reacquaint ourselves with my little test of Bing AI Chat - now renamed as Microsoft Co-Pilot. Has it got better, worse, or remained stagnant?
I entered this in last time:
write a travel log of a trip to the Coromandel from the perspective of someone from the South Island of New Zealand in 1500 words
So that's what I entered in this time. Back then it was ChatGPT 3 based, just as it was being released. This time it's ChatGPT5 based as it is getting released.
Let's read the results:
Travel Log: A South Islander in the Coromandel
I’ve always thought of myself as a creature of the South Island. The rugged Southern Alps, the crisp bite of frosty mornings in Central Otago, the endless sweep of Canterbury plains, and the wild, wind-battered coastlines of Fiordland have shaped my sense of place. So when I finally decided to head north and spend a week in the Coromandel, I carried with me a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. Could this peninsula, so often described in glossy brochures as “paradise,” really rival the landscapes I’ve grown up with?
What follows is my travel log—a record of impressions, encounters, and reflections as a South Islander discovering the Coromandel.
Day One: Crossing the Strait and Heading North
The journey began with the familiar ritual of leaving Christchurch Airport, boarding a flight bound for Auckland. I’ve crossed Cook Strait many times, but each time I’m struck by how the geography shifts so dramatically. The South Island feels solid, mountainous, and stoic. The North Island, glimpsed from the air, looks softer, greener, more densely populated.
Landing in Auckland, I picked up a rental car and pointed it east. The drive out of the city was a test of patience—motorways, traffic, endless suburbs—but soon the landscape began to change. Rolling hills, pockets of native bush, and glimpses of coastline appeared. By late afternoon, I was winding my way into Thames, the gateway to the Coromandel.
Thames struck me as a town with history etched into its bones. Old gold-mining buildings, weathered pubs, and a main street that felt both nostalgic and slightly faded. I checked into a modest motel, grabbed fish and chips, and walked along the waterfront. The Firth of Thames stretched out before me, calm and reflective, with mangroves edging the shore. It was a gentler seascape than the wild breakers of the South Island’s West Coast.
Day Two: Into the Forest
The next morning, I set out to explore the Kauaeranga Valley. As a South Islander, I’m used to beech forests and tussock highlands, but here the bush was dense with kauri, nikau palms, and ferns that seemed prehistoric in scale. The air was humid, filled with birdsong.
I hiked the Pinnacles Track, a climb that took me through regenerating forest, across swing bridges, and up steep rocky steps. At the summit, the view was astonishing: jagged ridges, valleys cloaked in green, and the ocean shimmering in the distance. It was a different kind of grandeur than the Alps—less snow and stone, more lushness and warmth.
Descending, I thought about how the Coromandel’s forests feel alive in a way that’s distinct from the South Island. Down south, the landscapes often evoke solitude and silence. Here, everything buzzes, chirps, and rustles.
Day Three: Cathedral Cove and Coastal Wonders
Driving east across the peninsula, I reached Hahei, a small beachside settlement. The sand was golden, the water impossibly turquoise. I joined the steady stream of visitors walking the track to Cathedral Cove.
The cove itself was breathtaking: a natural arch carved into the cliff, framing the sea like a cathedral window. I stood there, barefoot, watching waves roll in, and felt a sense of reverence. Back home, our coastlines are dramatic—think of the cliffs of Kaikōura or the fiords of Milford Sound—but this was drama softened by warmth and light.
I swam in the bay, marveling at how warm the water felt compared to the icy seas of the south. Floating on my back, I thought: this is paradise, but in a different register.
Day Four: Hot Water Beach
No trip to the Coromandel is complete without Hot Water Beach. I arrived armed with a spade, joining dozens of others digging into the sand. Soon enough, hot geothermal water bubbled up, mixing with the cool tide.
It was surreal—sitting in a self-made spa pool, steam rising, waves crashing nearby. In the South Island, geothermal activity feels distant, tucked away in places like Hanmer Springs. Here, it was raw and immediate, part of the landscape itself.
I chatted with a family from Hamilton, who laughed at my astonishment. “You southerners,” they said, “always think the North Island is soft. But we’ve got our own wildness.” I had to admit they were right.
Day Five: Coromandel Town and Driving the Coast
Heading north, I drove the winding coastal road to Coromandel Town. The journey itself was the highlight—narrow roads hugging cliffs, bays opening up with each bend, pohutukawa trees leaning over the water.
Coromandel Town was charming, with art galleries, cafes, and a laid-back vibe. I wandered through craft shops, admired pottery and woodwork, and ate mussel fritters at a roadside stall. The mussels were enormous, far bigger than the green-lipped ones I’d seen in Bluff.
That evening, I stayed in a rustic cabin overlooking the harbour. As the sun set, the water turned gold, and I felt a deep sense of peace.
Day Six: Off the Beaten Track
I wanted to see something less touristy, so I drove to Port Jackson at the northern tip. The road was gravel, winding through farmland and bush, with occasional glimpses of the sea.
Port Jackson was remote, with a long sweep of beach and hardly anyone around. I walked for hours, collecting shells, watching seabirds, and feeling the kind of solitude I usually associate with South Island landscapes.
It struck me that while the Coromandel is often portrayed as crowded with holidaymakers, it still has pockets of remoteness. You just have to seek them out.
Day Seven: Reflection and Return
On my final day, I drove back to Thames, then onward to Auckland. As I crossed the Hauraki Plains, I reflected on the week.
The Coromandel had surprised me. It wasn’t the rugged, snow-capped drama of the South Island, but it had its own magic: warm seas, lush forests, hidden coves, and a sense of creativity in its towns. It felt more intimate, more human-scaled.
I realized that being from the South Island, I sometimes carry a quiet pride, even arrogance, about our landscapes. But travel humbles you. It reminds you that beauty wears many forms.
Final Thoughts
The Coromandel is not the South Island—and that’s precisely its strength. It offers a counterpoint: softness to our hardness, warmth to our chill, intimacy to our vastness.
As I boarded the plane back to Christchurch, I felt grateful. Grateful for the chance to see my own country through fresh eyes, to be reminded that paradise is not a single place but a mosaic of experiences.
Impressive change from the old post right?
The advancements made in ChatGPT are amazing. Back then images were okay but now they can be almost life like.
I use Copilot at work to tidy my emails. In the two years since my original series I went from being the team leader for the Taranaki branch of posties to the supervisor. This means that I have more responsibility and more of a need to communicate with others. Copilot makes that much easier for me, even if people can tell it's written by AI. Weirdly it's not because AI can't communicate properly, but because it can communicate properly in that it follows the rules of written language. A human writes according to how we speak, not how we read.
I've used Copilot to create most of the images in my posts from this point on.
In my old series I had this image:
It was created by typing "Terminator typing on a laptop" into Bing AI Chat. Here's Copilot's version:
Guess which version is going to adorn this series from now on.
AI usage is growing and it's caused companies like NVIDIA to go gangbusters. But that influx WILL drop as AI gets to a more levelled approach. And one company keeps cropping up. It's the one company everyone keeps thinking is failing in AI. But in my next post, I'm going to show you how it's actually bringing AI