When Tom and I wanted to buy a house we started to look around the Hutt Valley, where we lived. We scoured every paper, every weekend and went to several ugly open homes that we didn’t have enough money to buy. One day we found ourselves in Upper Hutt looking around a house that stunk of dogs, had no privacy and that had holes kicked in the walls. It was going to cost everything we had.
Something had to give.
My friend Clare suggested the Wairarapa – she lives in Carterton – and we thought, since it was the first stop off the train in the Wairarapa, we could probably totally reorganise our lives and live in Featherston. We planned to visit and look around some houses, buy something cheap and move back to Wellington in five years.
The second house we looked at was just for fun. It was a beautiful old villa that would have been all our money and wasn’t really what we’d planned. It was the sort of house we’d love to live in some day. We bought that house (the thirteen we saw afterwards never compared) and now live a dreamy life in the country each and every day.