Life as a gypsy

My sixtieth birthday has left me reflecting on my life thus far, especially its many twists and turns. Since I was born, I’ve lived in four countries and, at last count, I've lived in at least 26 different homes. This tally includes my current home, which I’ve owned for more than 21 years.

Dad’s career at the Bank of New Zealand had a profound influence on my early life. To advance his career, he continually accepted promotions with the bank, which involved relocating the entire family throughout New Zealand. Over the years, we lived in Greymouth on the South Island’s West Coast, Paraparaumu on the North Island’s Kapiti Coast, Dunedin and Morrinsville in the central Waikato. The image above shows my parents and me outside my first home in Greymouth.

Above all are the family homes I lived in as a child. From top to bottom, Greymouth, Paraparaumu, Dunedin and Morrinsville. Every home had one thing in common. My parents always chose a house within walking distance to school and close to an open green space. For example, in Paraparaumu, we lived in a new subdivision; as a result, we had open sections all around (many of which were filled with Lupin bushes that we repurposed into huts and jungle tunnels) and a creek out the back. At the end of our cul-de-sac street was the local golf course enclosed by a tree-lined boundary fence. 

The house in Greymouth backed onto farmland and included a steep grassy incline that was home to the family's goat. In Dunedin, the house backed onto a school playing field while in Morrinsville, we backed onto open farmland with paddocks, a tree-lined pond and a fast-flowing creek. We often spent our Summer building earthen dams across the creek or catching frogs in the pond.  

On several occasions, we lived in a motel for four or five months before my parents finally bought a new home in our new town. This included a stint at the Bayfield Motel in Anderson Bay, Dunedin, and a motel in Morrinsville. I distinctly recall our time in the Morrinsville Motel. Directly across the road was the local cinema. However, it was the convenience store next door that captivated my brothers and. Its front counter included a candy buffet. Customers could choose a selection of treats from the display including bargain options offering three sweets for the princely sum of one cent. It was a dream come true for a ten year old child.

No doubt these inter-island transfers go some way to explaining how Hamish and I came to live overseas during our adult years. We were clearly comfortable with uprooting our lives and relocating again and again. Relocating regularly in early childhood had a profound impact on my well-being. I often struggled being the new kid at school. Later in life, as an adult, my mother revealed my school in Dunedin even recommended that I be formally assessed by a clinical psychologist. However, we moved again to Morrinsville before this could occur. My mother admitted she was reluctant to refer me at the time.

I recall an incident in Dunedin where I lost my cool at the teacher and stormed out of the classroom. The teacher later found me sitting under a tree by the school boundary fence. I distinctly recall my behaviour emulating a similar tantrum I'd witnessed from another child. I suspect I loved the drama of it all. However. I also remember being shocked when my parents were told of my behaviour.  It was the first time I learned that school and home life were intrinsically linked. Until that point they’d always been two distinctly separate worlds.

I also recall neurotic behaviour in my final year of primary school in Morrinsville. Most notably, I stopped eating my lunch at school. I couldn’t fathom how anyone could bring themselves to eat in front of strangers. As a result, much to my mother’s frustration, I’d take my uneaten lunch home every day. The following year, I started Intermediate school, which was ten minutes walk from home and began going home for lunch each day. I continued the same ritual all through high school. Eating lunch alone definitely appealed to my introverted nature.

After I left for university in 1985, my parents moved four more times. First to Hunterville, and then Taihape. My parents then relocated one final time with the bank to Matamata in 1992, where my father eventually retired four years later. They made one final move to Mount Maunganui to live their final years by the beach. They both passed away here. Dad first in 2013, and Mum last year. That's their final home below.

Hamish and I both left home while living in Morrinsville. Matt joined the bank for his first job out of school in Taihape, before my parents relocated and left him to fend for himself. I left home for the first time when I went to the USA as an exchange student for a year in 1983. I returned for seven months before heading off to university.

I then returned briefly for a few weeks at a time for several years during university holidays. However, I never moved back home again after my parents relocated to Hunterville. For the next decade, I became somewhat of a gypsy, living in a total of 16 different homes. Excluding my parents’ house, I lived in six different locations during university. I then moved another ten times before finally putting down roots in the inner-Sydney suburb of Surry Hills, where I rented a two-bedroom apartment for a decade.

I also travelled in Australia and Europe for a year in 1990. Initially, with an organisation called Youth with A Mission (YWAM) – you can read about this experience here – and then backpacking through Europe for four months. For a long time, my itinerant address often drove my parents to distraction. I also got very good at packing all my worldly possessions into the back of a rented van and relocating in a single day. In fact, it wasn’t until I moved into Surry Hills that I seriously began accumulating more than just bedroom furniture (i.e. a bed, a chest of drawers, a bookcase and a storage chest).

While living in Surry Hills, my furniture collection grew to include a Dining Suite, Lounges, storage shelves, outdoor furniture, and home appliances, including a fridge, microwave, washing machine, TV and a stereo. Likewise, as the years passed, my worldly possessions grew to include an entire household of linen, cutlery, crockery and other miscellaneous items such as Christmas decorations. The Surry Hills apartment is shown above.  For years, friends called it the David Jones showroom, naming it after an upmarket Australian department store.

As a classic introvert, I sometimes struggled to live in a shared flat environment. I also trialled a few different living environments along the way, occasionally succumbing to shiny-object syndrome, where a glamorous home enticed me. For example, one place I lived in for nine months in Roseville had a pool in the backyard (which I don’t recall ever swimming in), another in Drummoyne offered sweeping views of the Parramatta River as it transitions into Sydney Harbour. In hindsight, I was slow to learn that the people you live with matter more than a fancy house.  

The Drummoyne apartment is shown above. It's the balcony displaying an Australian flag, while the photo of me was taken from a side balcony. Below is our current home in Redfern. I'd like to think that I’ve finally got the balance right between a home with a great location and ann ideal stage for building treasured memories with friends and family.

Since relocating to Surry Hills, I’ve only moved house twice. First, to my current home in Redfern – a three-bedroom sub-penthouse apartment I bought with my partner in 2003 – then to London for business for five years, before returning to our apartment in Redfern. By the time we relocated to London, our household goods (including a car) filled an entire 40-foot container. Gone were the days when a rental van was enough.