For us; “It’s a feeling, not a place.”
It’s now nearing the time for this blogger and her squire to be heading downunder. No, not Australia, you know that small island below Australia, that makes up for its size by making a significant impact on the world in more ways than one. Yes, that’s right I am talking about New Zealand or Aotearoa, which is translated as “The Land of the Long White Cloud”. Which means is it does have unpredictable weather! Though so much more to like than dislike. If you had not guessed, we are very proud to call ourselves New Zealanders.
With our yearly return, the whole concept of home has got me thinking. My idea of “what and where home is” has changed and evolved over my life as our world has slowly expanded. This is more so now that the Squire and I change “homes” quite regularly. Nowadays we pack up our things for a new country continuously, and each time we feel at home, a new home of sorts.
The image of “home” for us now means so many different things.
- Having a cuppa and chat with family or friends wherever they may live.
- Strolling down a beach in various locations in New Zealand.
- It’s housesitting for three months in a small commune in Northern France.
- Visiting a local Devon cafe for a scone and clotted cream.
- Walking a dog called Fudge down a cobbled lane or just to sit down, enjoying the sun in Aubonne.
- The opportunity to capture a beautiful sunset in North Yorkshire.
- It’s listening to the regular ezan chants that echo through the streets in Daylan.
- Having a walk through the Dales in Northern Yorkshire or enjoying the sun with these two adorable dogs.
- Venturing to the local pub [never far away] for a pint somewhere in the UK.
- It’s cleaning out a natural swimming pool in the countryside near Norwich where we housesat during early summer in 2016.
- Carefully driving down the narrow lanes of Devon and Cornwall.
- It’s sitting in the sunny Brittany countryside with Ria, the dog.
- It can be going to the local boulangerie for a croissant or baguette.
- It’s walking around the city of Wiesbaden in Germany listening to street music and where we had a housesit in 2016.
- It’s housesitting in a beautiful part of Scotland, during 2016.
Put simply it’s in an area where we are together housesitting and our suitcases are opened [ruling out airport lounges] that is where we have called home. Just for a short while. A temporary period.
And now? We are enjoying housesitting in Portugal, this and the situations above are all considered “home” albeit a temporary one. Though New Zealand has something, the other places do not.
It’s where our story began.