Wellington, New Zealand and the siren call of home to a longterm expat

It had been too long since I’d been home. Home (New Zealand) that is, rather than Home (London). Four years of adventuring on the high seas, fitting long haul trips into annual leave allowances and using Skype as a crutch to replace hugs were my main excuses (and the fact that travelling to the other side of the world can leave a serious dent in your bank balance).

This was until a surprise call featured a sonogram and I found out that the ripe old age of ….(hah, that’s a state secret…) that I was going to be a proud Aunty. Confession time: I’m not particularly maternal myself; call it being selfish, call it having an unusual childhood, call it a lack of weird hormones bouncing around, whatever, it’s not in our life plans at the moment (or ever) but I surprised even myself by becoming incredibly homesick.

New Zealand Christmas & New Year - Adventures of a London Kiwi

Homesick enough for my lovely other half to suggest calling off our planned Christmas/New Year break and send me to the other side of the world. 

And how could you not, when you get to have sleepy cuddles like this.

 Wellington, NZ - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

And heartbreaking images like this of my brother and his son holding hands, not to mention the adoration his zen-like Momma has for him.

 Wellington, NZ - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

 
He is one loved little dude. (He also already has a Liverpool Onesie from his Uncle Mr Kiwi and a pile of baby clothes and toys you wouldn’t believe.) Needless to say I fell head over heels for him – a divine little munchkin who has the curiosity of a cat, the brightest bluest eyes and an adoration for bathing.

I’m still not broody – heck no, this Aunty doesn’t do nappies, but loves from a clean distance – he is without doubt the most beautiful little fella. Not that I’m biased or anything!

Wellington harbour, New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

It also meant I got to visit one of my favourite cities in the world – Windy Wellington. It’s New Zealand’s capital city, right in the middle of the country, boasts one of the highest cafe-per-capita populations and is as funky as they come.

Wellington harbour, New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat
Windy Wellington, living up to it’s nickname like a pro!

Most people who have visited say it has a vibe like San Francisco, Paris (without the beautiful buildings) or Seattle. Alls I know is that I lived there during University, falling for Wellington’s charms hard. The harbour views, funky friendly cafes, great public transport, infamous bucket fountain, compact navigating, quayside artwork and best of all the coffee. Ooooooh the coffee!

Wellington harbour, New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

New Zealand wishes 1 through 4 complete – A family Christmas / A day at the beach / Visiting Hobbiton / Cuddling my new nephew.

Cuba Street, Wellington New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat
The infamous Cuba St. bucket fountain.

Wellington Parliament, the beehive, New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat
To the left, our New Zealand Parliment aka. ‘The Beehive’ for obvious reasons.

An afternoon wandering these streets brought the realisation of Home (New Zealand) vs. Home (London). New Zealand is a wonderful old jumper that I’ll always be able to blissfully snuggle
back into (even though it doesn’t really fit anymore because of all the kiwi biscuits I always when I land!) but London is my home. It’s where my heart is, where the cat sleeps and my favorite Englishman is. I love New Zealand, but I’ve changed I guess. This wanderer still has many miles to cover.

Wellington New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

Cuba Street, Wellington New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

I’ll always love a country where Santa wears candy cane striped flip flops, the traffic lights (temporarily) celebrate the fact that New Zealand suffragettes were the first women in the world to win the right to vote and spending celebration New Years on a friends’ farm is the best kind of crazy fun.

Cuba Street, Wellington New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

Cuba Street, Wellington New Zealand - The siren call of home to a longterm expat

I am one lucky girl. But wait, there’s a little more to come…

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