All posts filed under: Emigration

Destined to be friends

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I heard someone quote CS Lewis yesterday. It was on the subject of friendship. “In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting–any of these chances might have kept us apart.” He goes on to say that he believes God brings our friends into our lives. Much like people often say they where ‘meant for each other’ when they talk about a lover, he’s saying God orchestrates our lives so we will become friends with people, he goes on to say: “The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.” I don’t know the context of this quote, and whilst I do think God (you can switch God out for whatever higher …

Coming along for the ride

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The first time we emigrated to New Zealand, we were a family with a nine-month-old and two-year-old. Those babies were an extension of us and apart from the 36-hour flight, which was either sleeping or non-stop Peppa Pig, nothing really changed for them because their whole world was us. It was easy; we move and they come with us. Even when we moved them at five and seven and then again at seven and eight (my maths is fine here, they are 18 months apart so depending on what month it is, they are one or two years apart), it was relatively simple. Yes they had to say goodbye to friends, family and familiar things, but at those ages, as long as you have Mum and Dad behind you, you’re brave enough for anything. The biggest challenge I remember were when we came back to the UK in 2017 was being introduced to the school zoning system and having to literally argue our case to the local authority so both children could go to the …

When it’s not your job

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Having a job is a big part of emigrating. In fact, it’s necessary if you want to stay. Our motivation to move to New Zealand in the first place was to bring our children up somewhere beautiful and wholesome and we wanted an adventure. Thankfully, Gareth worked for a global engineering company that could facilitate that. Due to a natural disaster, the job became much more than a way to get a visa. It was an opportunity to pursue his career, using his skills (and gaining lots more) whilst working within a team of highly motivated and inspiring colleagues to literally rebuild a city after devastating earthquakes had flattened it. A job that makes a difference, how satisfying is that. Five years later, we moved back to the UK because Gareth’s dad was sick and at the same time he found that out, his company offered him an opportunity to work on a big, ambitious project. The third emigration was because we didn’t feel like we were done with New Zealand and wanted to go …

New start

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This is not what you think it’s going to be. There will be no new year resolutions. No declarations or goals to be shared. No new me. Last year had all the new things; all the change. We left our life in New Zealand (again) to start life back up in the UK (again). We moved to a place we have never lived before. New job for my husband, new school for my children. New house. New sport teams. New friends. It might well have been the most stressful year of my life. January 2024, we began to move. A year on, we are moved. Changes everywhere. Postcode has letters in. Our bodies, belongings and dog are under a different roof. All our bills are in pounds. It’s winter not summer. We shop at Sainsbury’s not New World. Chocolate is not Whittaker’s. We are 13 hours behind not ahead. All these changes required my full attention. My family needed my full support. Day-to-day life took all day, every day. Six months into our new start, …

When the novelty wears off

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I remember in the month before we emigrated to New Zealand for the first time, back in March 2012, I used to get such a kick out of telling people we were moving to the other side of the world. The day before we went, I was in Tesco’s and the lady on the checkout asked, ‘Are you doing anything nice this weekend?”. It was so much fun to say, “Yes actually, I am moving to New Zealand.” I loved telling family and friends, because they were shocked, but in a good way. Pleased for us getting to do something so out of the ordinary and curious to see up-close how the whole emigration thing works, not least because NZ is a very pleasant place to visit. It was quite an out-of-the-blue decision.  Neither of us had even holidayed in New Zealand or Australia.  When I was younger, I was obsessed with the States and Gareth probably imagined living in Ibiza, but “down-under” had never featured.  We were going to go for a couple of …

Be England What She Will

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I have been living in Christchurch, New Zealand for six months since yesterday.  This feels like it should be an anniversary that is marked in some way so I thought I would write a blog about England, or rather my missing England. For the first five months of being here I didn’t miss England, which is testament to just how wonderful the welcome to New Zealand has been.  This place is beautiful, their way of life suits us perfectly and the people have been more welcoming than any other bunch of strangers I have ever met in my life – and I’ve been to a few new places in my time.  But about a month ago I started experiencing the odd melancholy feeling for my homeland and in the most curious moments. The first one was brought on by Postman Pat.  My son requested it, well actually he pointed at the DVD shelves and said ‘pat pat pat’ which I translated as wanting to watch Postman Pat but I’ve since deduced that he uses this …

Spring is Finally Here

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September 2011 to September 2012 has been a long Autumn-Winter-Autumn-Winter, so to see blossom on the trees lining Hagley Park, Christchurch has been a very wonderful thing.  So wonderful I joined the tourists one afternoon and took photos of my children in the middle of this sunny magic. What I’m really excited about is my little boy venturing into the world of walking in this warm, dry weather, which has timed perfectly with the inevitable tumbles and falls he’ll be taking over the coming months as he finds his feet. There’s something so uplifting about the sun that it makes us all much happier.  Minnie has stopped squirming at the camera, which means I can stick her in a tree, point the lense her way and still get a smile. Taking photos of Jackson is a little trickier.  To be honest I would have tried propping him in a tree too but I think the people walking by would have frowned on it and the ever present policemen of Christchurch would have definitely pulled over …

One month later

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I don’t know what I was thinking when I said I would start a healthy eating campaign the day after we moved into our new home, with no furniture, no heating, in the middle of winter with two small children.  I am now confessing that nothing changed on the 1st of July, in fact things may have got worse for the first ten days when we spent every night unpacking and building furniture – we ate chocolate constantly. So here we are on the 29th of July and I think I may be able to go on some level of a diet.  It helps that my husband is also keen to tone up – we are fighting the jabber together. Here it is, the seven point plan: exercise at least four times a week (Gareth gets this automatically with his hour of cycling to work and back!) strictly no sweets and chocolate (unless they are a gift, then that would be rude to refuse) moderate consumption of my baking (I do it for the children …

Three Hours

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Since moving to another country and drastically reducing our friends and responsibilities outside of the home, Gareth and I are getting to talk so much more.  Which is definitely an upside to being down under. In one of our chats this week we talked about finding some time for me when I am not cooking or looking after the children. Because one of the down sides of moving this far away and Gareth having a 45 hour week is that I have 12 hour days, seven days a week. Extra stipulations for this gift of time were that it couldn’t be a week day evening when I am shattered, it couldn’t be used for doing those things that I can’t do when I am cooking or looking after the children but is still not really “for me” i.e. picking up some more cereal and milk for the week, paying bills, going to the post office etc. and it could not be interrupted, so no cute but totally unnecessary visits from Minnie. We went for three …

Welcome Home

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Haven’t blogged for a few weeks, but I’ve been busy.  Moved into our Christchurch house on our ten year wedding anniversary (boy that was romantic), unpacked and built furniture for two weeks, turned 36 (feeling pretty melancholy about that) and had a week of Jackson being ill/teething (because he always does them at the same time). For the last few days I have started to have this unusual feeling, the feeling of being home.  We’re here to stay (don’t panic mum, not forever), we don’t have plans to move, this isn’t temporary, we can live our life.  Obviously we haven’t stopped living in the last nine months – I am shattered from all the life we’ve been living!  What I mean is we can build a routine, we can create a home and take time to watch our children grow up with time left over to pick up hobbies and spend time with friends. I’m excited. And for those of you who would like to see this home we’re making for ourselves… Come and have …