I'm here Taupo!

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.