For the first decade of our marriage Mark and I lived in apartments. First in Auckland opposite TVNZ; a manageable walk for me to work in Parnell and a short drive for him to Penrose. When we moved to Sydney, we looked for an apartment on the train line that had a spare room for friends and family to use when they came over from New Zealand. Ironically, we had a lot more visitors stay in the one-bedroom apartment we moved to next which was right off George Street.  

When we lived in London, we rented an attic flat in West Hampstead that I absolutely loved. It was small but bright and I liked that there were distinct spaces, rather than open plan living. We rarely cooked at home, preferring to eat out or order in. When our friend Ruthie came to stay with us once, she bought us a tea towel that captured our philosophy perfectly – Fork this, let’s just go out for dinner. 

Workdays were spent in offices and weekends were for going out or getting away from the city. I would plan our holidays to maximise weekends and public holidays, booking airbnbs in the countryside or at the beach. Or even better flights to somewhere we hadn’t been before. Living in small apartments suited us because so much of our time was spent somewhere else. 

I remember sticking our house designs up on the walls of our London flat and imagining how we would find living in such an expansive setting when we’d got so used to the benefits of city living. I worried that we would find the adjustment too difficult, and comforted myself with the idea that we could always move back to the city if it didn’t suit us.  

 The pandemic accelerated our move to our rural property on the coast in Whangārei Heads. It was the most extreme version of a city to country swap. I couldn’t have possibly imagined that we’d be making the move the way we did from a Viaduct Harbour apartment to a non-insulated steel shed with one power point and one light, outside water only and the whole country in lockdown.

Once the country started to open up again, I often found myself wishing we were a bit closer to restaurants and cafes. Uber Eats taunted me with almost daily reminders. I don’t blame them; we were once very regular customers. There was at least one (very hungover) day in London when I remember we got Uber Eats for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  

But now, nearly four years later, there’s no question in my mind that swapping the perks of city living for the peace of this rural life was the best decision we ever made. I love the way people arrive at our home and describe the feeling of stress leaving their body as they sink into our couch and take in the view.  

We work from home and can go almost a week at a time without needing to drive into Whangārei city. We love that growing our vegetables and fruit makes it possible to pull together a tasty meal in less time than it takes to buckle the kids into the car and go and pick up fish & chips.  

And going on holiday doesn’t feel like the treat that it used to be, since home is so suited to our preferences. Now instead of going away for a long weekend, we see it as an opportunity to pretend we’re on holiday at home since we’re never short of beaches to choose from.