I have had seven days of living solo in my most recent new
place of residence, in my new town of Taupo.
I took ownership of the property in October last year but
moved to a property in Conifer Grove in South Auckland thus allowing the
sellers of the Taupo property to remain here as it suited their needs. But they decided to move on so Taupo became
free and mine to move into.
So come first day of February my possessions were moved from
storage into this little, white, weatherboard home.
In this past week of living here alone many neighbours and
locals are asking how I am liking living in Taupo.
It has not been an easy question to give a meaningful reply
to.
Whilst I took ownership last year it was not until that
first day of February that realisation of ownership felt truly real. And even then it seemed rather weird as I drove to
Taupo the night before February 1, stayed at friends for the evening and then
drove to the property to await the furniture movers who were bringing my
worldly goods and furniture from storage into the home. Big Son flew down that morning to help,
Younger Son drove across from his home in Rotorua and it was all hands on deck
to get as much of the furniture into the house and as arranged as possible,
then later in the evening relocking the house up and driving back to Auckland as
there were important appointments in the city I had to attend over the next three
day period.
I wasn't until the following Sunday that the cat and I squeezed
ourselves into my overloaded motor vehicle at Conifer Grove and headed along
the now very familiar roads from the Bombays to the tourist town of Taupo.
Both travelled well.
Within two hours the cat had explored her new surroundings, inside and
out, and seemed to fare the new change of address without any problematic
feline frenzy. That was quite a relief,
and a surprise. Seems she is fine
anywhere, so long as I am close by.
That night the two of us slept together, restlessly, in the
relatively disorganised house and woke to the new surroundings with an
expectancy of over-awedness as the final acknowledgement of doing something so
completely life changing had just happened.
Well, that is how I felt when dawn broke; I think the cat woke to her
only thoughts being when was she going to get her next meal.
Later that day the arrival of two dear friends from
Auckland-Hawaii-San Fran-New Jersey-Vermont (whichever, they seem to still live
in all those places) in my reliable Toyota Granvia brought the reality check to
life as they announced they were here for a month and were "giving me a
month" of their life to help me in
any way I wanted or needed. Not being
used to such generosity was a little gob-smacked but recalled the words of some
mutual friends who advised me sometime earlier that if they offer help, they
genuinely want to help, so graciously accept it.
They work on paying it forward.
From that day until early last week life was a whirlwind of
sorting, shifting, building, painting, spending, more houseguests, more
building, more spending, dinners, wine, more spending, more painting, more
building (should say the building bit had nothing to do with my efforts - I
would scarper indoors each day whilst I heard my genial houseguest blaspheme
the next nail or screw into the newly created bathroom wall he was building for
me - well, for my future houseguests that is); more houseguests, more meals,
more fun, more wine, more building, more spending (all this spending being on
the building project), more wine, more houseguests, events, more events, more
houseguests, more meals, more wine and yet more progress on the newly renovated
garage-come-out-house.
In amongst all that was Ironman week and weekend. And what a lousy weather weekend that turned
into for the hapless athletes.
So last week's Monday evening had me pull up into the
driveway and have the whole place with just me and the cat again, five weeks
after taking possession.
By good luck, or
maybe good judgement on my house guests part, everyone had cleared out at a
particularly pertinent time as the days that followed were days that I spend
six months being pleased they have passed and the next six months wishing they
would not come.
One of those days was Tony's and my wedding
anniversary. Two days later was the
anniversary of Tony passing away four years ago.
My real friends realise I like and need to be alone during
this period. I want to enjoy being
morose, glum and grievous in a fog of self-indulgent pity; I could not bear
having chattering, frivolous conversations around me to pretend one day is just
like any other day. Those particular
days are not like any other. Never will be.
I guess there is some consolation that they are only two
days apart so all the narcissistic self-pity comes but once a year, instead of
months apart.
So when I am asked, as I was twice today, how was I liking
living in my new home in my new town, I really feel a little flummoxed at not
being able to give a genuine or meaningful answer. Because I have not had time to experience it,
life has been far to busy.
I do confess to moments of panic some weeks ago when I
walked into the house and realised how tired it really was. I had spent the previous many months going
through heart breaking and almost financial ruination with renovations of a
small home unit in Conifer Grove and here I come into another tired and weary
residence. Glory be, had I made the
right decision? Was all this change the
past twelve months the completely wrong thing to do? The interim period at the small home unit in
Conifer Grove had caused me extreme grief and gave me moments of real despair,
was this place going to only make it worse?
Had all my decisions been wrong?
Was I going to wake and realise I had got myself into a continual
nightmare?
There were physical signs of my panicking.
It was to be short lived, the panic that is, no doubt due to
the arrival of my friends Jerry and Lis from Hawaii, who immediately hit Taupo
like a 'white tornado' and motored through sorting out my life, possessions and
associated 'crap' without any hesitation.
Boxes were unpacked, stacks of 'junk' sorted, resorted then resorted
again. Cupboards filled, drawers
organised, pictures hung and pleasant meals and company with the roundabout of
friendships visiting and staying, making it all the more reassuring that this
was one good decision. And it was.
I note that once people ask me how I am enjoying living in Taupo,
the next question often is, "Why did you choose to move to Taupo rather
than anywhere else in New Zealand?"
When this is asked I have tended to think carefully how I
respond when answering to a fellow Tauparian because Taupo was never
on my original list of places I wanted to live when I first decided I would uplift my life and make major changes. Indeed, it wasn't even in contention and never would have considered it so.
There were a number of other options I had easily
contemplated in those initial stages and after some months of travelling around
I had determined three towns that truly appealed to my inner sense of residential possibilities for me.
Top of the list was Blenheim. Second on the list was Hawkes Bay. Third on the list was Whakatane/Ohope area.
I had briefly looked at some other fine options which
appealed; Christchurch, for it will be a
magnificent city in the future and the surrounding areas are beautiful. I could see myself cycling over those Port
Hills, indulging in cafes in Lyttleton and running along the Avon River. Whanganui had once been a thought both Tony
and I contemplated some years ago so it came to the fore once again, due to it
being by the sea, close to the Naki, not too far from Wellington, wonderful
countryside all around, and had residential properties selling at amazingly
economic prices.
Even Russell in the Bay of Islands was a serious contender. The sea and warmth were of great importance
to me and the family history, the turangawaewae I feel whenever in the Bay of
Island always gives an added pull to keep returning to the place.
As Taupo had neither warmth or seaside, nor family history,
it never featured on my list of 'desired towns' to live in.
Prior to making the decision to finally sell the Auckland
family home I did spend a period of over two years going to the various places
and seriously looking at what the lifestyle would give, and what the real
estate prices were.
With all my months of travelling and looking I did factor
in, and mistakenly so, the matter than my elder son works for Air New Zealand
and would be for a number of years in the future, and as he is single without
any dependants I had become fortunate in this period to become his one
specified family member, or friend, who benefited from his staff subsidy of
being able to fly on incredibly inexpensive air fares both domestically and internationally
on any Air NZ or affiliated airline throughout the world.
When looking at where to live factoring this in had a major
bearing how I was looking at the future.
I felt reassurance in the knowledge that wherever I lived if I lived
near an airport with Air NZ access I would have the ability to fly anywhere in
the country at the drop of a hat, for very little expense. Should something or someone need urgent
attention I could be there very quickly with little inconvenience to anyone, or
my bank account. Or even if I had an
opportunity to attend a social function, particularly in Auckland, without
hesitation I would be able to accept and be there without any major disruption or
difficulty to anyone, most particularly my own personal bank account.
Hence the historic town of Russell was soon put toward the
bottom of the list as it was too far away away from the nearest airport.
Whakatane and Whanganui were soon being dismissed once Air
NZ announced it would be stopping flights to these airport. But Whakatane was a favourite of mine and as
it is not a long drive to Rotorua Airport I kept that place factored
in. Whanganui, not so.
Hawkes Bay had the sun, the warmth, the lifestyle, the
wonderful surrounding areas, the seaside and most of all, the Air NZ base at
the airport. So it was up the top of the list too.
Blenheim had everything.
The warmth, the countryside, the wine, the sunshine, the sea, the quick
access to Picton and the Wellington ferry.
Not too far to drive to Nelson.
And of course, the airport, with direct flights to Auckland and
Wellington. There was the added bonus of
family living there also, but I have always said that relying on family staying
in one place is not a good option, this proved so and once I made my mind up
Blenheim was a strong contended, the family moved to Wellington. Clearly they had heard the whisper that I was
soon to head down!
Thus, over two years the list, in order of priority, became
Blenheim, Hawkes Bay, Whakatane, then maybe somewhere else that I had not previously
contemplated. Somewhere during this
period there was a slight thought of maybe Taupo, but certainly well down my
list of preferences. Taupo only due to its
centrality. It may have had an airport
but it certainly didn't have the year round warmth and sandy, salty
beaches.
Once I finally decided to put Jesmond Terrace on the market
and settled on the probability of Blenheim,
it was a case of announcing the decision to friends and family. But just prior to that a minor hand grenade
was thrown into the decision making. Air
New Zealand son announced that he'd made the decision to withdraw my name from
his staff subsidy list and would be giving it to a friend of his. Now, he has every right to give his staff
benefit to whoever he liked, indeed, it took him three or four years of working
at Air New Zealand before he did actually offer the benefit to me. And as he announced with candour, I had been
"lucky enough" to have had the 'perk' for two years. I bit my tongue as there really was no option
and accepted his view was that the benefit was his to share. Can't knock that. I had had one very economic flight to the UK
on this benefit, at a time when finances were critically ailing giving me some
worrying financial relief at that time.
But once the realisation that I should never had factored a
feasibility of the benefit being an ongoing 'perk' to his mother
I suddenly had to reassess my thinking of my future and accept the
realisation I was really on my own in whatever decision I made.
How would the situation be if I were stuck in Blenheim (or Whakatane,
or Hawkes Bay) should a major dilemma with family in Auckland, or Wellington,
or where ever occur. Whilst I could
still fly at full airfare rates, the costs would be horrendous at short notice
and the guarantee of getting a flight not always possible. It would mean urgent driving to where
ever. Driving from Blenheim to Auckland
would be a nightmare under urgency.
Driving from Whakatane or Hawkes Bay under urgency would prove unhealthy
as well as very long and arduous.
I reprimanded myself for making incorrect assumptions of
family loyalty and had to begin to totally rethink my thinking and life
strategy; to reassess the reality of never relying on others as I had done most
of my life, to reassess the practicalities of living totally independently with
only myself as my own resource. Something all of my unattached friends have
always had to do.
The brain began to rethink future life in places still relatively
close to the city I have lived most of my life, and where the majority of the
important people in my life live. An
investigative visit to the little town Cambridge
was made, with a good look at real estate values. A visit to Waihi. Tauranga was never a consideration. It's a mini-Auckland and growing each
year.
Even Te Aroha had a look in.
But, knowledge of myself had me realise that small towns and
Verna would just not work. Cambridge,
Waihi, Te Aroha = just a little too small.
Blenheim was at least a larger and more spread out town.
The more I thought, the more I travelled the more the
realisation that locality and accessibility was going to have to be the major
consideration. Not the wants.
Taupo happens to be in the geographic middle. Yes, it's damned cold down there. No, there are no seaside beaches. Nor loads of local vineyards to picture
oneself visiting during the beautiful summer weekends. But, it is only three plus hours to Auckland
by motorcar. Not too onerous. Only fifty minutes to Rotorua where my
grandson and his parents live. Sure, it
is still nearly five hours driving to Wellington, but chances are reasonably remote
that I would need to get there with urgency any time. The idea of taking a leisurely five hours to
drive there to pay a family or friendly visit to others doesn't seem too excessive.
As weeks passed I visited Taupo to view various residential
homes that were for sale. Real estate
prices were a little more economic than Blenheim and there were certainly more
properties available. And each drive to
and from the town of 30,000 seemed less and less monotonous. Almost enjoyable.
I visited last winter. I saw the town at its worse. It
snowed. While I was out running. Over the years I have seen it at its best. I asked many Taupo people why they moved to
the town. I asked many people if they
had regretted their move. No one
answered to the negative. All had only
positive comments to make about their decision to make Taupo home. Many did mention the weather, but all
mentioned it as if it were a mere inconvenience rather than an injurious pain
in their life style. Most merely said,
"You just dress for it."
Didn't seem too problematic, particularly once they listed all the
benefits of why living there was so appealing.
Proximity to so many other places was always a major feature in their
ravings of how great it was to live so central in our island.
The more people I asked, the more my decision turned from
the top of the South Island to the centre of the North Island. Three hours to Auckland. An hour forty to Hawkes Bay. Fifty minutes to grandson. Three hours to Whanganui, or New
Plymouth. Couple or plus hours to
Whakatane, or Tauranga. Centrality has
its bonuses.
The decision was made.
The fun began. The rigours of
house selling, and all it entailed was painful, exacting, distressing but eased
by the friendships that stood up and were counted; those who helped, either
physically or morale-wise.
Therefore, I sit here in my quaintish, white, weatherboard
home. The cat blissfully curled up at my
feet. The two of us are in our new
home. We are encountering new
experiences. I am meeting new
people. Finding new adventures. And don't feel too far away from anyone.
The past busy month has shown that this geographic
centrality has become the biggest bonus.
Already I have been able to share
the house with many dear and wonderful 'old' friends. Already there has been continual happiness
and laughter within its walls. Tomorrow
Big Son and Young Son are driving here from Auckland and Rotorua. Tomorrow night Big Son, Young Son, Grandson
and two of the sons' friends will create more laughter, I hope. All because I am so central.
I figure there was a great advantage to Big Son deciding
that mother would not be his priority on his staff benefit. He made me change my way of thinking about my
future life, about redefining on a major decision, one that was so much the
correct decision. Had he not scratched
me off his staff priority list, I may well be sitting in front of this PC in
Blenheim as a very lonely widow.
I'll thank him, one day.
Once I get over the still strong miftness of his giving the benefit to
someone else.
