Left home... and arrived home.

Left home, Belgium, old continental Europe a week ago to fly an endless 19.850 km to Christchurch. It is interesting to realize how far New Zealand is when you know that the circumference of the Earth totals 40.000 km. Down Under is far, very far, indeed...

Some brief highlights of this long journey:

- stopover in Hong Kong: arrived in Fragrant Harbour (or it appears that this is what Hong Kong means in Cantonese) after a short night on the plane. We were served a copious brunch and landed at warm Aberdeen Harbour (aka Hong Kong) in the afternoon, local time. We all get off the plane and only one hour later, at 5.30 pm, the sun, a big red ball of fire, sets down among the green Hong Kong hills. And it is time to board the plane again to Auckland.

- arrival in Auckland: it is curious how our memory usually associates present experiences with past ones. Landing in Auckland in a warm, sunny day, I have recollections of times when I was heading to Summer holidays in the South of France. Then I repeat to myself that no, no this is New Zealand and I have come here to start a new life, look for a job and a place to stay.

- arrival in Christchurch airport: it is early in the afternoon and the sun shines. Passengers get off the plane by going down a ladder. I step on the ground, stop and look around. It was a mild and fresh 19°C Friday afternoon. The airport buildings lie in front of me and on the left side I can see the snow-capped mountains of the Southern Alps on the horizon. I say to myself, "well, this is what home should now be", and the thought gives a warm feeling of hope.

On the practical side of things, I am lodging at a B&B, looking for a temporary fully furnished rental to welcome my husband and kids when they arrive on January 1st (the container will only arrive end February). Meanwhile bank accounts, IRD number have been sorted out and interviews for a job are lined up.

Christchurch is a beautiful and pleasant city and it deserves its Garden City alias. Kiwis are easygoing, relaxed people and most of all they are available to give you some attention and to politely answer a question. As a non-native English speaker I wondered whether I would have much difficulty in understanding the Kiwi accent. To my surprise, so far so good, although I do have to pay extra attention and be all ears when I talk to somebody who speaks either too fast or does not articulate very well. It does strike a note of strangeness though when you hear

- Ear New Zealand for Air New Zealand

- siven for seven

- are you feeeling bitter today for are you feeling better today?

but we are all creatures of habit and I might as well pick up the Kiwi accent in six months or in a year's time, who knows?

Mount Cook

A few days ago our youngest son came home from school with a wrinkled, painted and dried up cloth stuck to a piece of cardboard. From its shape and colour I guessed that it represented a rock or something similar. I was not completely off the mark: he explained that he and his classmates had each made a mountain. And his was not just any mountain: no, he had made Mount Cook.

Some time before he had asked me about mountains in New Zealand and I had told him that Mount Cook was the highest in the country. Together we looked at some photo's on the internet, and apparently that's where he took his idea.

Judge for yourself:

The original Mount Cook (Credits: Wikipedia)

The new Mount Cook

Last day at work

Another milestone has gone by: after nine years and nine months the contract which bound me with my company ended today.

It certainly feels strange. No more traffic jams, the kids will be able to sleep a little longer in the morning and I will be taking them directly to school, instead of leaving them at the day-care centre.

For me the countdown has begun as I will be leaving for Christchurch on 12 November.

Six weeks to go - hooray!

La rentrée des classes

La rentrée... or what has become a yearly ritual after Summer vacations in Europe. The end of Summer, to come back home from foreign, distant and faraway lands, to resume work, to take kids back to school... When it comes, everyone is concerned, everyone talks about his or her rentrée...

For us la rentrée takes place in its original meaning: la rentrée des classes, when children get back to school. The kids seem to have enjoyed their rentrée: the sun was shining all day and there were cuddles and hugs in the morning as they met their classmates after the long Summer break. It was beautiful to see them happy to be back at school. Very exceptionally, Mom and Dad took them to school this morning and went back in the afternoon to take them home. Very exceptional, but it was la rentrée...

Most certainly, their last rentrée here ...

Starting to say goodbye

Yesterday we went to visit Mini Europe in Brussels, a park with about 90 maquettes of famous buildings in the European Union. The London Houses of Parliament with Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower of Paris, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Acropolis of Athens, but also lesser known buildings - you can all see them there in a scale of 1:25. Very instructive and entertaining.

The Eiffel Tower amidst other monuments

El Escorial, near Madrid, Spain, a convent residence built by Philip II as a remembrance of his victory over French troops in 1577

The Grote Markt (Grand Place) in Brussels

It also felt as if we were starting to say goodbye. It ocurred to me that as a result of its long and eventful history, Europe is blessed with an incredible amount of invaluable treasures. I was a little saddened by the idea that in New Zealand we won't have the opportunity to visit places with such historic dimensions. On the other hand, what good does it do when we rarely visit them and spend our time stressing ourselves in unhealthy office buildings where the deadlines are mostly set on "yesterday"?

New Zealand is blessed with its magnificent nature, something that I can also deeply appreciate. Hopefully we will make time to savour it.

Hoe schoon de zomer hier kan zijn

How beautiful the Summer can be here, or so the song (Hoe schoon de zomer hier kan zijn) goes. Summer can indeed be pleasant here: skies can be bright blue and cloudless, a gentle and fresh breeze can blow and the sun can wrap us in an warm embrace.

Summer holidays are over for us. We have spent two weeks busy at home sorting old and small kid's clothes, old papers, cleaning rusty gardening tools, pickling, waxing, painting wood furniture, covering chairs with new fabric, repainting an old rusty drier – some elbow grease used ;-) but rather a bit of work than contributing to dirty up the environment. Sorting old papers was sometimes almost like a revelation, opening a magic box and recollecting past remembrances of your life in front of you. Curious how past life can sometimes look like another completely different life. We must be getting old...

Meanwhile, Oma (Grandma) stayed with us for a few days and we took the opportunity to visit a house where she lived with her family when she was young during World War II. She was happy to see that house again. Guy took a photo of the house and it is published below.


We have received an offer from two movers. We know we will need a 40ft container to take all our possessions down under. For the rest, we are both not sleeping well: it must certainly be some sort of anticipation and anxiety at what is about to come or our future Down Under.

Faster, Higher, Stronger

Did you see the Olympic Opening Ceremony in Beijing? We're having our holidays right now, and amidst all the preparation for our move I took some time out and saw it completely.

While being very impressive and grandiose, I was probably not the only one wondering if these ceremonies are moving in the right direction. The Olympic motto of Citius, Altius, Fortius (Faster, Higher, Stronger) should be reserved for the athletes and the sports they perform, not for extravagant ceremonies.

The part I liked the best is the entry of the athletes. Many people find this the most boring part - not I. I really like to see all those men and women in various outfits walking round the stadium. They have come from the four corners of the world to represent their countries in the greatest sporting event on earth. An idealistic idea, but one that survived for over one hundred years.

Now what has all this to do with New Zealand, you might ask. May I ask for just a little more patience?

Apparently Mandarin does not know an alphabetical ordering of words. That is why the delegations entered the stadium in a seemingly random way (which isn't true: a country's place was determined by the complexity of the first characters of its name). If you don't know Mandarin - I don't either - you had no clue when a particular country would enter the stage.

It was a bit strange to see my compatriots walking in behind Jamaica and before Vanuatu. But when I spotted our flag, I thought: "there they are!" My feelings toward my country in day-to-day life cannot be called patriotic, but seeing this kind of events do heighten them a little.

It was a long wait to see New Zealand entering - they were 189th on a total of 205 countries. But when they did enter I had the same feeling - and I suspect it may even have been a little stronger! Especially when the commentator said that New Zealand had grabbed the gold away from us a few times in the past. He mentioned Ivo Van Damme finishing second after John Walker in the 1500 m in Montreal (1976) and Roger Moens who was beaten by Peter Snell in the 800 m in Rome (1960). The tone of his comments was rather negative towards the New Zealanders, instead of praising them for their victories. Believe it or not, I was somewhat offended and thought "New Zealand has every right to be there too!"

During the current Games we will meet New Zealand again. In the football tournament we play in the same group. I wonder how I will feel about the result of that match... I do hope it won't be a draw.

New Zealand and the Tour de France

What does New Zealand have in common with the Tour de France? Not much, you might think, and you would be right. But still, a connection exists.

The last stage of the Tour 2008 was won by a compatriot of ours, Gert Steegmans. He went first over the finish line on the Champs Élysées in Paris. But who do we see in sixth place in this most prestigious stage of the Tour? Julian Dean, the current New Zealand champion and only New Zealander to compete in the largest cycle race in the world.

Well done Gert! Well done Julian!

23 July – last day of the last module at UoL (University of Liverpool)

Another milestone has gone by: sixteen months of online Internet Computing during which eight modules were completed (http://www.uol.ohecampus.com/index.php). Dissertation has yet to come. A challenging but enlightening learning adventure. Tough on the family side though: many bedtime stories for the kids had to be skipped, family outings and visits to Oma (Grandma) were done only by three (Dad and the boys) and Dad had to adapt to eating - good quality - but frozen food.

Naturally, I am neither missing the stress nor the deadlines but there is a strange, diffused feeling of actually having the luxury to dispose of time – this highly coveted commodity of our times.

The feeling will very probably not last long... sorting, packing and getting everything ready for Down Under are on top of the agenda.

Summer here... Winter there

I will indulge to making some remarks about the weather and the temperature... Ah, the preferred subject of many Europeans, indeed.

July 21st, at the height of Summer in these Northern areas and the car thermometer shows 14°C (although the official meteorology site had announced a mild 17°C rainy day).

Let's open the New Zealand Herald to check temperatures Down Under and particularly those in Christchurch: we realize that at the height of Winter, the day temperature today in the Garden City was... 14°C.

Premature nostalgia

That does sound contradictory, I know. We have not left this country yet, we have no precise date as to when we will set foot in New Zealand and yet... The idea - and repercussions - of leaving Europe and ultimately the idea of leaving the proverbial home has struck for some time.

Curiously enough this was one of my first concerns since we were mulling over the idea of emigrating to New Zealand. I remember asking the question in a forum, "were you not homesick going to the end of the world and leaving Europe behind?"

This can be more or less understood. To live in Europe was not a fact of chance - I was not born here - but a choice, I chose to live here. I have had the experience of living in and leaving a few countries and the process requires a certain amount of adaptation and personal investment. Moving to New Zealand will mean leaving the old continent and its history engraved in the walls, in the ground, in the way people act and react here. History is something so palpable when you walk through the streets here. And history is but one aspect of it all.

But yeah, the decision has been made: I'm giving my resignation to my boss next Monday, Guy will be doing as well shortly; the first floor of the house was painted, we are going to put the house for sale on the Internet and things progressively move to the fait accompli.

New Zealand, here we come!

It's been two weeks today, 29 May, that we know we are allowed to migrate to New Zealand. "We" is a family of four: Rosângela, Guy and our two sons.

More than two years after our initial decision that New Zealand is the place where we wanted to live and work it was with a mix of relief and incredulity that we read the letter starting with: "I am pleased to tell you that we have approved in principle your application for a New Zealand residence visa."

The purpose of this blog is mainly to register this milestone period: the various aspects of a transition from a life in Europe and the move to New Zealand. If it can help other prospective migrants, it would definitely add value to this blog.

Kind regards,

Guy and Rosângela