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John & Bron’s search for a house in NZ
04 October 2005
The houses across the square are almost complete. We have watched them sprout like toadstools from the virgin peat bog, for so this once was. Two storey brick’n’tile (B & T in the local estate agent’s parlance, which makes them sound like a sandwich) they would be instantly recognised in any UK council development north of Surrey. That and their close fellowship are familiar. Their construction and growth rate are not.
Timber-framed, they go up in two months flat. A complete tiled roof takes 5 blokes one day, rain or shine. What’s more the standard of finish is excellent. That is the good news…
Planning law, concerned hugely with resistance to earthquake, wind and water, blithely ignores style, situation or history. Kiwi individuality dictates, above all, that your property must be different. And so barns, sheds, lighthouses, schools, watchtowers or machinegun emplacements all prove to be mere houses when approached with the caution that their first appearance inspires.
Location is no giveaway either. ‘Subdivision’ and ‘Lifestyle Blocks’ are chopping biscuit-sized bits of New Zealand from its serene and stunning countryside, smattering houses over the landscape like dice. Add a penchant for perching your house, eyrie-like, on the teetering peaks (WHY??? It’s windy here!) and it’s no wonder that our quiet and private corner is elusive. We have become chary of ‘views to die for’; one step off the goat-track driveway and you would!
We’ve been house-hunting now for two and a half months, and it seems like years. However, we are learning! We can banter ‘LIM reports’ [Land Information Memorandum], ‘going unconditional’ [you’ve bought it], ‘covenanted bush’ [native forest protected by deed, earning a right to carve out another biscuit] and ‘resource consent’ [planning permission] with the best of them.
But we still haven’t adjusted to the emotional roller coaster of the house-buyer: Hunter’s Syndrome. Symptoms – high mileage car, and empty tea-caddy.
The excitement generated by the beautiful pictures in the Property Press and Internet, or by the estate agents’ blurb reaches fever pitch. ‘Yes!’ we cry. ‘We’ve found it!’ and leap into our car.
You should know that the agents here sell their houses as would rather iffy second-hand car dealers in England. ‘It’s a honey!’ or ‘Dream by the fireside!’ hardly conveys the information that one most wants to know. ‘PBN’ is Price By Negotiation, but actually means, ‘We won’t tell you the price until you come and look at it.’
Half an hour later we arrive, brimming with enthusiasm. The ‘honey’ turns out to be 15 metres (sorry, yards) from the motorway. The fireside is in a shed in a grass field with ‘loads of
potential’. ‘The grazing’ is a cliff. Too steep, too noisy, too small, too big… AHHH this is better. At last! HOW much??? You must be joking! We return in solemn silence for tea. We’re drinking a lot of tea. And our car is suddenly high mileage.
Cheerful Church
And what a change church has turned out to be! Coombe Fellowship is small, intimate, gentle, caring, and flexible. We knew everyone, and shared most of their problems.
Picture us today on a Sunday surrounded by 1500 people we don’t know, mostly 20-something. There are those people we met last week, what were their names? The band strides in, pick up their instruments and hit into the first Hillsong number with big grins. It is noisy, lively, and excellent. No music stands – the musicians know all the songs. The crowd bops in celebration. We applaud newcomers, hear praise reports, pray for requests, take an offering (always with a short message), and greet our neighbours. We are then treated to one of the best half-hour messages you could hear anywhere. Final song, and dead-on the 90 minutes we must make way for the next service. We go again on Sunday night. That’s it! That’s church for another week.
Most of what we enjoyed in Coombe (fellowship, prayer, Bible study, personal ministry) we are supposed to do in our fortnightly Life Groups. But we’ve only had two since we’ve been here, for various reasons (we’re away, they’re away). We miss the lingering worship, patient prayer and pressing-in to God we have grown to love. But CLCA saw over 700 decisions last year. You can’t gainsay that!
New House
Hunter’s Syndrome
John & Bron’s CVs
