That’s something we noticed when we came here. The place was just so laid-back, the people so nice and life was just a bit slower, very much like our lives in the 1950s as children.
Why spend heaps of the bank’s money, travel miles to another shack when we have a perfectly good one here.
Also our idea of holidays isn’t sitting at a bach on the beach watching the seagulls and eating wind-blown sand or parking ourselves on the edge of an ancient but active caldera in the middle of the North Island.
Those are lovely places, of course, but not for days or weeks on end, not for us.
I love Taupō. I used to fish it in the annual Kinloch trout-fishing competition with three mates for years. A boys’ trip away annually to be with other boys and boats.
One of my nicest memories is sitting on my mate Mike’s boat in the middle of the lake fishing on a chilly August morning. The peace and quiet, the views around the lake, just to die for.
But we don’t see us living there.
Our idea of holidays involves movement. We are teenagers of the 1960s, indoctrinated with films like Easy Rider and television shows like Route 66. American stuff that beckoned to the open road and the adventures found on it. Road trips.
Road trips have always been our thing, right back to our courting days as teenagers. Seeing our own country.
Something that neither of us knew much about then. I grew up in a city and Jen in a small provincial town. Our worlds were small. Over the years we have taken our children all around New Zealand and even on a road trip in the United States.
We have done numerous road trips in Australia and the United Kingdom. Australia is just the place for road trips. Weeks if you wish. It’s pretty big and empty but full of nice people, in our experience.
Travelling in the United Kingdom was fun. It doesn’t take long to go anywhere and there is simply so much to see. The traffic is interesting.
Horns are used liberally by the locals if one shows any hesitancy at roundabouts or intersections. We came away thinking that life on that island is quite stressful in some ways.
However, just seeing all the stuff we had read about, all our family villages and districts made it worth the bother.
No, we won’t ever own a holiday home. Why would we when the world is our oyster. Well it was.
Nowadays trips are much closer to home. We are both over international travel and all its drama. We have seen enough.
One trip we did a few years ago was a bit of a lark. We got a taxi from home to the bus station in Ridgway Street, took the bus from Whanganui to Wellington where we stayed in a hotel overnight.
Rob Rattenbury
The next day we boarded the Northern Explorer at Wellington railway station and spent the day travelling up the North Island to Auckland.
We then got a taxi from the Britomart railway station to our pub, hired a car and spent a couple of days doing Auckland stuff. We then drove to the airport, dumped the rental and flew home to Whanganui, taxi from the airport to the shack, job done.
A brilliant short adventure. I recommend it if you are looking for something a little different to do.
But holiday homes are something many people like. Good on them. A secure and comfortable bolt-hole from the normal daily grind. An ability to just sit and relax somewhere different to home.
We have friends with holiday homes and they love them. Places their families can gather for important events or to be together.
It is not quite the same though as the slightly exciting uncertainty of arriving in a strange town, maybe in a different country, at the end of a day’s travelling and finding a decent motel or hotel to spend the night.
Then deciding where to eat on a whim. Perhaps having a quiet night in after a trip to the local supermarket to get dinner. Living in the moment.
Planning the next day’s travel. Rising early to a nice cooked breakfast and on the road again, wherever it takes us.
