As I switched over our calendar date block this morning I realised with a start that we are ploughing through the month of May.  I can almost see June peeking out at me from around the corner.  The end of June will mean that we’re halfway through the year and then, golly gosh, Christmas will be upon us before we know it!  Okay, maybe I am racing ahead a wee bit, but I’ve barely recovered from last year’s Christmas so I just need this year to slow down a bit.  I’m sure I’m not the only one.

This time last year, we were ten days into our first French adventure.  The adventure that changed our lives.  The adventure that led us to set up our Airbnb unit with the aim of funding further adventures in France.  The busyness of having the Airbnb has undoubtedly played a part in how fast the year seems to have gone thus far.  Clive and I were certainly dubious as we prepared our unit and set up our hosting profile.  Would anyone really be interested in staying in our little place in the “burbs”?  But the bookings came in within a few days of us going live and suddenly we were plunged headfirst into the role of hosts – cleaning, washing, ironing and gardening, together with a lot of cookie-baking. We have also learnt where all the creaky floor boards are in our house and how to avoid them.

We’ve had the pleasure of hosting fifteen sets of Airbnb guests to date.  I think we’d half expected that we would only have guests from within New Zealand, or possibly some from Australia.  We have indeed had five sets of Kiwis and three lots of Aussies, but others have definitely come from further afield – Wales, Singapore, India and New York.  Even one of the Aussie couples was actually a Canadian and a Syrian who had recently moved to Australia.

Being a born and bred Kiwi girl who has such a longing to return to France, I find it fascinating that so many people want to come to little New Zealand.  Our history is so short, our architecture is pretty unimpressive and our public transport is severely lacking.  At least our coffee is generally good, as long as you don’t mind dodging orange road cones and speed bumps in the search of a cafe – if you can find a cafe behind the overgrown grass berms that is.   

As I type, I have four lots of very good friends on their own adventures in Europe.  I am so enjoying following their journeys but I must admit that I have suffered more than a few heart pangs as I read their stories and see their photographs.

We have many adventurers come through the cafe where I work.  Even just this week I chatted to a couple (he was Irish, she was Columbian) who are spending the next six months travelling through New Zealand in a camper van.  They had already spent a few months based in Wellington.  They are loving their time here.  

On that very same morning, I had a conversation with another customer, a young French woman who was WWOFing – that’s short for “We’re Welcome on Organic Farms” (amongst other variations) – in New Zealand.  And yes, I did the embarrassing “Oh my goodness, I just love France” spiel.  I believe she was entertained by my exuberance, and possibly also slightly confused by my attempts at French.

I recently got to know a wonderful young lady from India who had spent years trying to immigrate to New Zealand.  She was finally successful.  However after only a few months of living in New Zealand, the immigration rules were changed and she has had to return to India.  The best result will be that she can return to New Zealand after three months, but unfortunately there is no guarantee of that outcome.

I feel bad about my unrest in this beautiful country.  This is where the majority of my precious family and friends live.  I have so much to be thankful for.  But it is not the New Zealand that my parents knew, nor the New Zealand of my childhood.  And France has captured my heart.

So bring on the guests.  I will bake cookies for them and (get my darling husband to) iron their sheets.  And they in turn, will fund our dreams.  Wait for us dear France.  We will return.