Home

What is “home?”

I asked the question, and a lot of you gave very thoughtful responses. Here are some of them, paraphrased and summarized.

Home is where you are heard and appreciated.

Home is where you feel the most comfortable to be yourself.

Home is where love is abundant.

Home is where you are relaxed and free.

Home is that soft place to land, where your heart smiles, and your soul shouts, “yes, this is where I belong.”

Home is different for everyone, and it can change over time.

Home is somewhere you look forward to going each day.

Home is wherever you put down roots.

Home is where you are authentically yourself, and loved unconditionally by yourself and others.

You can have more than one home.

My husband’s answer to what home is, was that it is anywhere I am. Although this caused a bit of friendly teasing from some of you, many of you know that when you have a partner in life, you can choose to go almost anywhere with them and make a new home.

We’ve been living in Hawke’s Bay for 6 months today; we’ve been away from Canada for a bit longer than that, but we’ve been living in this new place for half of a year now. To some that may seem short, while to others it may seem long. To me it seems perfect, because this is exactly where I have needed to be.

So when does it become home? We’ve been proactive at choosing to make this our home, right from the start.

Canada will always be our home. Saskatoon will always be our hometown. I still feel at home every time I visit the camp I grew up attending. I feel at home when we arrive at our favourite lake in Saskatchewan. I feel at home in our camper, wherever we may park it. Hawke’s Bay also feels like home to us now.

We don’t know how long this will be home, but for now, it is home to us. So when you ask us to “come home,” or when we’ll be “coming home,” the answer is, “we’re already home.”

Everybody’s Got A Story

Oh, to start again. When we moved to New Zealand, we left our entire lives as we knew them; we left behind established careers, family, circles of friends, and our reputations of who we were to others. We’re immigrants here; we’re the newbies in the country, and in the industry we’ve chosen to jump into. A lot of excitement comes from that, and freshness and newness, and we do so much learning. We’re challenged every single day to do something we’ve never done before, and we’re gaining so much. We are also having to prove ourselves, and we’re possibly being underestimated sometimes.

Greg came from being surrounded by people that know his skill set and how capable he is. In Canada, everyone who knew him trusted him and his advise in many areas, and often asked him for his help. Here, as is to be expected, he has to prove himself, and prove what he can do. Some people see the value in his skill set already, (some saw it very quickly), but others don’t trust him yet; that’s all part of starting again in a new place.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that certain customers in the Cellar Door were going to make a judgement about me because of my job. Some people have assumed that because I’m working a hospitality job, I must not be educated, or that I’m there because I can’t be anywhere else. Once people discover my story, I’m often asked why on earth I’m not teaching. I could be “making way more money,” they say. (Although a customer said to me with sarcasm recently, “yes, because teacher’s are in it for the money.”)

It’s not just me either; there are other women in my workplace that have university degrees, and could be working in a higher earning career that would bring more prestige, but who choose, like me, to be working where we do because we enjoy it.

Those that take the time to actually ask me about my story hear that I chose to be in this job, and it’s actually exactly what I want to be doing with my time.

Upon talking with Greg about this topic one evening as we sat by the ocean, we realized that for every assumption people have made about us on first glance here, we’ve probably made ten assumptions about others. We (I’m referring to us here, because I’m sure you’ve never done it…) have a tendency to assume things about others based on their jobs, or where they’re living, or what they’re driving, or based on a whole list of other qualities we can see at first glance.

Upon first look at our jobs or income here, where we live, or our cars, (especially mine – we call it “the fridge”) a person could easily assume I don’t have a degree, or that Greg doesn’t have much for skills or expertise, or that we don’t own a home. Anyone might assume lots of things about anyone else if they never hear their story – but if we take the time to ask, everybody’s got a story, don’t they?

My take from experiencing being assumed about, is to try to start assuming less.

As we talked on the beach that night, I realized that sometimes we can get to know small parts of people’s stories, when it’s appropriate to ask, and sometimes we can’t. With some people, if we have enough time, they’ll let us in on big, important parts of their stories, and that’s a privilege.

Whether or not we get to know any part of another’s story, we can realize that they’ve got one, and start giving people a little more credit than we maybe would have in the past.


The title of this blog was inspired by a good old country song. (I’m so Canadian at my roots.) I thought I’d share the lyrics to the Chorus here, as they seem fitting.

Drake White – Story

Everybody got their good days, bad days, ups and downs 
We’re all on the same world, spinnin’ around
Flyin’ with the birds, sinkin’ with the stones
Livin’ on prayers, keepin’ up with the Joneses
Some got a little and some got a lot
Some of us are lost, some of us are not
But everybody got their moment in glory
Guess everybody got their story

Friendship

Have you ever thought about how much the people in your life leave lasting effects on you?

So many people come into our lives; some stay for a short time, and some stay for a long time. In this season, I’m reflecting on the important ones to me, who have, or will leave my life, who I know I may never see again (but hope that I will!)

It’s surreal to me to think about the process of how we meet someone.

Just the day before, we had no idea who they were. We didn’t know their name, or what they looked like, or anything about them. Then we were put in the same place, at the same time as them.

One day, our paths aligned, and we formed a relationship; with some, we formed an immediate friendship.

Then, what feels like all of a sudden, it’s time for us, or them, to move on. As quickly as they entered our lives, they’ve left.

But we’re not the same as we were before we met them, because they’ve influenced us in one way or another. Through shared experiences and conversations, laughter or frustrations, sharing old stories and making new ones, they’ve impacted us.

Some people that enter our lives, we’ll remember for a while, but then probably forget after enough time has passed. There are those that we’ll remember for longer, or that we might see a picture of years down the road and it will spark the memories.

Then, there are those that we know we will never forget. For one reason or another, they’ve had a significant impact on us, or helped us learn something about ourselves, or life, or shared genuine conversation or experiences with us. Those are the ones that remain friends, even if we never see them again in this life. I believe that the more people we meet, the more enriched our lives become; more stories are shared, more memories are made.

Everyone moves on though, eventually. Some move on more quickly than others, but eventually, lots of people will leave our lives.

I naively assumed that since we were coming to New Zealand, we would be the ones to leave. I was prepared to say goodbyes to everyone in Canada; I wasn’t prepared to say goodbyes to people here, and they are tough! I’m grateful though, that these goodbyes are tough, because that’s what I prayed for long before we ever came here; I wanted friendships that were good enough to make me cry when it came time to move on. To me, those are the ones that are real blessings in life.

Relationships and change are both part of life. The more we age, the more our friendships shift, especially in a situation like this. There are always going to be seasons of relationships. They’ll come and go. Some will stick for a lifetime, yes, but many are only meant for a season, and that’s okay. It’s sad to think about the ones I may not see again, but I’m so grateful for the time I got to have with those people.

No matter who comes and goes in our lives, if we’re open to new relationships and friendships, we’ll find them. Special people will bring us so much joy, and leave their fingerprints on our lives in one way or another, and hopefully, we’ll do the same for them.

*inspired by Amy… written with her and many others from years past in mind. ❤️

Learning to Accept Generosity

Moving to New Zealand has brought with it a whole set of life changes, and one of them that’s come to mind repeatedly lately is how often we’ve had to rely on other people’s help since we got here.

Back in Canada, when we had careers that paid us larger salaries, and we had our house, vehicles, and all of our stuff, we didn’t really have to rely on other people very much. We had everything we needed and so much more. If we felt we needed something we didn’t have, we would just go buy it. Greg and I enjoyed having people over to our house and sharing our food and wine with them. We were quite willing to lend our stuff to others, whether it was small things like clothes, shoes, hunting/fishing/camping gear, or bigger things like a vehicle or our camper. We had no problem giving things to people if we no longer needed them.

I also struggled with borrowing from most people, or accepting things from others. I always felt like I owed them. I didn’t mind borrowing things from family, as I felt that was slightly different somehow, but even then, I would prefer to buy my own things rather than use someone else’s, even if they offered.

I’m not sure why I struggled to accept someone’s help, other than potentially having some bad experiences with a few specific people. I can recall a couple of times in the past where someone has helped us with something, and then lorded it over us for some length of time, or used it as a bargaining chip to try and get as much out of us as they could for as long as possible. It’s a shame that a few people like that can make me think that others might be planning in their heads to do those same things when they help me. I have some difficulty accepting kindness, because I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wonder if some people will come to us and say, “remember when you first got here and we did this for you? Well now you owe us.”

The interesting thing about this assumption or fear I have put on others, is that I would never do that to someone else. I lent a colleague $10 a while back, and completely forgot about it. She paid me back a couple weeks later and I hadn’t even remembered I gave her money. I don’t mind sharing what I have, so why does it even cross my mind that everyone else might be secretly holding what they’ve shared with me over my head?

I think I’ve tried to live my life up until now being on the positive side of owing friends and family. Don’t get me wrong, our families have definitely been generous and helpful to us in many ways over the years, and could choose to lord some things over our heads if they wanted to, but I try to be as self sufficient as I can, and as generous as I can towards them, and leave asking for help as a last resort.

If someone paid for my Starbucks in Canada, I wanted to make sure I’d get them one next time, or the next two times; I couldn’t just accept the coffee without feeling like I needed to try and repay them with something of equal or higher value. I’ve even allowed my own guilt to motivate me into doing things for others that they probably didn’t expect of me, because I have such a good memory, and I remembered when they helped me last. I placed that burden of “owing them” on myself, even when others hadn’t. I still expect more from myself than I expect from others.

When we arrived in New Zealand, we had no physical stuff but the 3 suitcases we brought between us.

We had to accept so much help… I really mean, so much help. We were forced into learning to accept generosity.

Even once we got our jobs, we quickly realized that our lifestyle here was going to have to be very different than it was in Canada. Not only are things more expensive here, but we’ve taken a huge pay cut. We can’t afford to go buy most of the things we want. We can’t even afford to buy things that we used to think we needed. Our definition of what we “need” has really changed as well. We’ve realized that a lot of the things we used to think we need, are really just wants, and we can get by just fine without them.

For example, we have 3 bowls. (4 now, because I took one from work that had been sitting on the table for months unclaimed. It doesn’t match, but it holds food.) We don’t have many utensils! I do dishes at least once every day so we have enough. When we had our biggest party yet, we used every single utensil we had (forks, spoons, serving spoons, tea spoons) to serve dessert to people, and Greg and I ended up using whatever we could find in the drawer to eat ours. But we all ate dessert and I don’t think my friends minded (if they did, they were super polite about having to either eat their cake with a serving spoon or one the size of their pinky finger).

We used a broken clock for 2 months, until we finally decided we could break the bank and buy a new one. The old one ran slow, so every night it would be behind by 20 minutes. I would make sure to reset it 20 minutes ahead of time each day so that we were never running late.

Greg was shopping for groceries one week and I had told him how much money was in our bank account. He got to the till and put all the stuff we really needed at the front, and the stuff we wanted at the back, and when the total reached what we had in the bank, he said to the teller that he had to leave the rest. We’ve never had to do that before. He described it as a humbling experience.

I just wanted some lotion SO bad, and all of the decent smelling and somewhat quality lotions (ie. not Vaseline Intensive Care) retail for roughly $40 or more for a small container! I looked and looked, and eventually came to the realization that I can’t afford nice lotion here. I just can’t justify that price right now. It’s a small thing, but it was the final straw that broke the camel’s back for me in realizing that I have to significantly change my lifestyle in a lot of ways.

(On a side note, we do realize that these are the small sacrifices we are making to gain bigger, more important things, like being fulfilled in working in the wine industry, living in a warm place by the ocean, and living out our dreams, and we wouldn’t trade them!)

The examples above are things we just wouldn’t have chosen to deal with in Canada, or been willing to tolerate before, but we’ve been re-learning the value of a dollar. (And that’s a New Zealand dollar too, not a Canadian one!) I’ve started thinking about how long it takes me to earn something when deciding if it’s really worth buying.

This drastic change in our financial situation has forced us into accepting the generosity of others, and wow, are the people in our life ever generous.

Within a week of getting here, when my first car broke down (twice) we had new friends lend us their car. Their car. They biked to work for the days we had it. That was not easy for me to accept, and we actually had spent more money on a rental car the first time mine broke down, and our friends were upset I was being so stubborn as to not use theirs. So we conceded the second time my car broke, and borrowed their car. I was so grateful, but felt so guilty at the same time for my needing help to inconvenience them.

We’ve had several people lend us camping gear, hiking gear, biking gear, etc. on more than one occasion.

Greg’s bike and fishing rod are both on indefinite loan from friends.

Colleagues bring us vegetables or herbs from their gardens.

People have invited us into their homes for beautiful meals, or wine and charcuterie, many, many times, and invited us to spend holidays with their families.

They’ve welcomed us into their circles of friendship, and been so kind.

Friends invited us to their lake house for a weekend, or others have offered to put us up when we’re travelling through their areas, and they feed us and offer us clean, beautiful places to sleep.

Our family recently sent us a care package, full of things we want and need. They cared to ask us what we’ve been missing, and spent their money to bless us with things we would have normally bought in Canada without thinking twice about. Now, we appreciate them beyond measure. I’m sure it cost dearly to ship that over from Canada, too.

And, a colleague who heard me saying how badly I wanted some nice lotion, brought me one of hers, hardly used, and just gave it to me. Vanilla Chai. It’s fricken amazing. I’ve never appreciated lotion more in my entire life than when I put that stuff on.

We’ve experienced so much generosity from so many people, that it’s gotten to the point where I know I can never pay them back.

That’s a hard spot for me to be in, because I’m not used to it! I’m not used to needing other people this much. I’m not used to having to ask to borrow things. I’m not used to accepting a free gift from someone, just because she knew I wanted it. I’m being stretched out of my comfort zone which, although uncomfortable, I know is so good for me! It’s been really humbling, yet really difficult. It’s been really touching, and it’s made me feel so loved.

The generosity we’ve received makes me want to be even more generous to others.

I still struggle to accept things from certain people. Maybe my pride has something to do with it, such that I don’t like feeling like I can’t provide for myself. Maybe I will always struggle with accepting generosity or help, or maybe it will get easier. Maybe I’ll be in a position one day where I can take care of someone else as much as we’re being taken care of here. Maybe some of these people will lord it over us one day, or ask for something in return. Or maybe, they’re all just kind souls, who know what it’s like to need help, and want to use their positions to bless others, with nothing expected in return.

Hopefully we will continue learning to accept generosity day by day. We will definitely continue to choose to pay it forward whenever we have the means or opportunity. One thing I’m absolutely certain of, is that if everyone in the world was as kind as the friends we’ve been blessed to make here, this world would be a much better place.

Living the “No Plan” Plan

We have no plan.

So many people are asking what our plan is. My accent often leads to me telling part of my story to tasters in the Cellar Door, and I’m asked several times per day what my plan is. Our family and friends are wondering what our plan is too. We understand that people want to know. We do get it, really! We want to be able to tell you, but we have no concrete answers for you.

We really have no plan.

How long will we stay? Will we continue working in the wine industry? Will I ever teach again? When are we going “back home?” (I feel like I could write a blog on defining “home.”) What will we do after this? (When does “this” end and “after” start?) Honestly . . . we have some ideas, but we change our minds all the time. We are literally living almost day to day right now. And we like that.

That’s crazy to me. I’m a planner. I’ve always been a planner. I like plans. Actually, I love plans. I used to live for and by plans. If you’d told me ten years ago, or even five years ago, that I’d be living like this right now, I would have either not believed you, or had an instant panic attack.

But… I’ve actually found that living with no solid plan is kind of freeing. It’s liberating, and exciting and scary and maybe it’s not smart, or maybe it is. Maybe it’s not good for us, or maybe it’s exactly what we need right now. Whether it’s wise or not to not have a ten year plan, or even a five year plan, or honestly even a five month plan… it is what it is, and we have no plan.

We’re four months into living out a dream we’ve had for years; that’s really not that long in the grand scheme of things. We’re still feeling this whole new life out!

We’re learning so much. We learn things every single day about the wine industry, about ourselves, each other, what we like and don’t like, what we struggle with, and what we’re good at. We learn things God’s teaching us; we learn things about what’s important in life, and what’s not as important as we used to think it was. We learn about other cultures and countries. We learn about people.

For every question we get answered, we come up with five more we want answered. We’re curious. We’re exploring.

Isn’t this what moving abroad is all about?

There are multiple studies that suggest that people who have lived abroad are more confident and self-secure than those that haven’t. The experience gives them a better concept of themselves, and a wider understanding or outlook on others in the greater context of the world. After working through the values and systems in another country, expats have to re-evaluate themselves and their personal views.

This is part of the reason we wanted to make this move, and we’re living it every day. I doubt we’ll be here forever, but we’re not closed minded to that, if this is where we’re supposed to be. We may likely return to Canada, because that’s where our families are, but we’re also not set on that either. We have honestly talked through several options of how long to stay here, and where to go from here; however, we are fully aware that we’re dreaming at this stage, and anything could happen.

I think some people have trouble accepting the “no plan” plan, because they themselves can’t identify with it. I get told every week how brave we are for what we did, moving across the world with nothing, to a place we’d never been, to try and find employment in a new industry. People often tell me they wished they’d done what we did, but either never got around to it, or were too scared to take the leap; I don’t know if I feel like we’re brave, but I do admit that having no plan is truly terrifying at times.

Most people don’t choose to live with no plan, but for us, right now, we’re living it, and it’s kind of great. It’s just what we need.

Besides, we believe God’s got a plan for us, so it’s not so much that we have no plan at all, it’s just that we don’t know what it is yet; we’ll find out when it’s time to take the next step.

So if I haven’t confused you enough yet, or shown you how much we really are unsure ourselves, the answer to “what’s your plan?” or “how long will you stay?” is simply that we actually just don’t know.

So there you have it.

Just keep following the blog and time will tell!

“Cherished Life” Moments

I call this blog, “Cherished Life by Chelsea” because I used to run a business under a similar name; when I named the blog, I didn’t yet know that I was going to move to New Zealand and get to live one of my dreams. I didn’t understand how many memories I was going to make that I’ll have for a lifetime.

The first time I remember specifically creating a lifelong memory was on our first trip to Paris.

There are, of course, many milestones in life that I’ll remember forever, like our wedding, travels, family holidays, graduating with my degree, my first teaching job, buying our houses, etc., but I remember those in more of a larger context, or I remember specific things about them as a whole.

I’m talking here about experiencing a moment in time, and being so precisely aware of how special that moment is while it’s still happening; it’s almost like time has stopped for just that moment, so that I can step outside of it, look into it, and really realize how valuable it is. Have you ever experienced anything like that?

The first time I created a memory like that was during the last hour of a Paris City Bike tour, on a Seine River cruise, at dusk, as we sailed past the Eiffel Tower, and I saw it sparkle for the first time. Greg was standing behind me, and I was leaning against the rail of the front of the boat, with the perfect view. It was warm, and there was a gentle breeze coming off the water. Everyone else on the boat sighed in wonder as the tower began to sparkle, and I remember distinctly thinking, “I’m going to remember this moment for the rest of my life.”

We toured the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, and got to stand in “the circle” where the biggest country artists of all time have performed, and sing an acapella “Amazing Grace” in two-part harmony; as I felt the spot light on my face, and listened to our voices echo throughout the rows and fill the room, I created another lifelong cherished moment.

There are so many mundane moments in life, where we do the same things we always do, and we can’t or don’t choose to remember what’s different about one day from the next. It’s often the escape from the mundane that’s the most memorable. I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower sparkle now too many times to count, and although I still appreciate it and savour it each time, none of those times specifically stick out to me as much as that first time does, when I was forever imprinting that memory into my mind. Singing “Amazing Grace” on stage has happened several times in our lives as well, but singing it on the Opry stage… I knew I would cherish that for a lifetime.

Moving across the world has brought me more of those cherished moments, and I’m so grateful for them.

Every time we walk from our house down to the ocean after dinner, and stick our toes in the sand, I realize how fortunate we are to be able to do that. When we just grab our wine glasses and walk down to the ocean with friends to sit on the beach or stand in the water while we visit – I cherish those moments.

We were recently wake boarding and buiscuiting on a clear, warm, bright blue lake, next to some volcanoes, in January, and we sat in a natural hot pool in a corner of the same lake, with kind and generous friends who have taken us in, and brought us along to these places. We cherished that moment.

One of my most recent cherished moments was at the UB40 concert I worked. We closed the bar down shortly after 9pm on the police’s call, but the band was still scheduled until 10pm. We did as much clean up as we could for the time being, and then our manager told us to go enjoy the concert until 10pm. We grabbed a glass of red wine, and headed up into the tanks that overlook the park area of the winery where the stage was. (Those tanks also happen to be for red wine.) We got to dance and sing, and drink red wine, as UB40 sang their famous, “Red, Red Wine.” During that song, I knew I was creating another memory that I will truly cherish for a lifetime.

We don’t make a lot of money here, and it feels like we’re living on borrowed time until our savings/credit run out. We left our careers, and our circles and routines in Canada to make a move that could have, or could still, turn out badly in the end, or leave us with nothing to our names. It’s not always easy or perfect, but it’s in moments like that one – when I looked at my life for that three minutes, in New Zealand, where I live, at the winery where I work, with my amazing new friends and colleagues, dancing and singing to “Red Red Wine” in the red wine tanks, with red, red wine, being sung by a famous band that I got to meet the day before – when I realize that no matter what happens, this risk we took of coming here, will have already been worth it. That song will remind me of my time in New Zealand, and at Church Road, for as long as I can still hear it. I’m realizing that these cherished moments in life can’t be bought. They just happen, and when I stop to recognize them, I’m able to be grateful for them.

I was fortunate enough this week to participate as the Cellar team opened the customary bubbly to kick off the 2019 vintage; we all poured the remainder of our glasses into the first load of grapes. I got to watch the first crush happen, and taste the juice as it was pouring from the press. I’ve been in the winery as much as possible this week, watching, asking questions and learning so much, and I’ll continue soaking up every opportunity I get. Greg and I will both cherish the memories of our first vintage.

I don’t know how long we’ll stay here, or where we’ll go from here. I don’t know how long we’ll stay in the wine industry. I don’t know what’s going to happen in our future, or with our finances, or our house back in Canada, or anything else. I do my best not to get too caught up in the future, and to let each day worry about itself. (That struggle is easily another post of its own!)

What I do know though, is that these memories we’re making are more valuable than money can buy; they’re shaping us, and changing us. These experiences are impacting us in meaningful ways, and giving us more moments that really remind us to stop, take it in, and cherish life . . . and we feel pretty blessed, and grateful for all of them.

Napier, New Zealand: The Art Deco City

This is an exciting blog post for me, as I get to highlight the city Greg and I call home in New Zealand. (The 1920’s/1930’s photos you’ve seen of us will make more sense once you’ve read this article as well!)

Nothing will prepare you for what Lonely Planet describes as the ‘charismatic’ New Zealand city that ‘can provoke a Great Gatsby swagger in the least romantic soul’.

https://www.artdeconapier.com/

(Facts in this article are taken from this website, as well as what I’ve learned from Napier citizens during our time here.)

The Art Deco story all began when the people of Hawke’s Bay experienced a devastating earthquake on the 3rd of February, 1931. The quake measured 7.8 on the Richter scale, and was the largest in New Zealand’s history. It killed 261 people in the Bay, 162 of which were from Napier City. After the quake struck at 10:47am, fires broke out in the cities of Hastings and Napier. Hastings was able to control their fires, but Napier wasn’t, and the city was largely destroyed.

The land shifted and tilted up 7 feet, and the sea line extended out east. According to artdeconapier.com, Napier gained 5575 acres of land. The land was drained and is now where a lot of our city sits, including the new downtown, and the Airport.

The people rebuilt the city in the early 30’s, with what was the popular 20’s fashion at the time, Art Deco. Our city is filled with Art Deco buildings and street signs, gardens and homes, artwork, and lots of old cars we see driving around during the festival, and all year. It’s a very cute city to visit, and is a stop for most cruises that come through. The most photographed building and statue in New Zealand are in Napier.

The Art Deco Festival is an annual event that allows the citizens of Napier to showcase the history of their home, share their story of survival, and celebrate it’s rebirth. It’s a time for people to come together as a small community, and honour the past in a meaningful and fun way! Kiwis come from all over New Zealand to participate in the festival; tourists come from Australia, and even places as far as Europe to participate! The 2019 festival was the 31st annual celebration, and according to media.newzealand.com, there were over 300 events, and 40,000 guests in attendance.

There were both ticketed and free events to participate in. We kicked the festival off with an Art Deco Valentine’s Day; we had a walk around after dinner, and some wine at a cool wine bar in town where we listened to old music and watched the customers dance the night away.

Greg and I went to the opening ceremony on the Friday evening with friends, which consisted of the first fly over of the old war planes. They did tricks and put on a show that everyone gathered along the shoreline to watch.

Almost everyone who’s out gets involved in the festival. As we sat on the beach with our friends later that night and looked around, it actually felt like it could have been the 1930’s.

Little kids were dressed in their 20’s/30’s gear and playing catch by the ocean with their parents. A group of teens were dressed the part, lazing on the beach nearby, drinking and laughing. Seniors had old tables and chairs set out on the lawn, with full spreads of classic China and glassware, and were enjoying a picnic while decked out in top hats and pearls.

There was a live orchestra and band performing 1930’s music, and people were dancing in the parks and in the streets. As we made our way around, we took time to stop for a chat with a familiar face, admire a beautiful car, have a photo, or just take it all in with the numerous groups of others around us doing the same.

Walking through the downtown streets, seeing every person in 1930’s dress, looking at the old buildings and cars, and hearing the music, I felt like we’d all travelled back in time.

We also spent some time walking around on Saturday, seeing the old car parade, old motorcycles, and a fashion show.

There were numerous musical groups to be spotted all around town.

We attended the Gatsby Picnic on Sunday, and had our lunch there.

We were, again, awed and entertained to see how many people went all out to participate in this event. We’d heard that many of them go each year at 4:00am to get the best spots and set up their themed gazebos. Some of them were absolutely amazing!

Being part of the festival was a special experience, to say the least. We both talked about how an event like this just wouldn’t work if the people didn’t get so into it. I believe the enthusiasm the locals show, young and old alike, is what makes the festival really successful each year. There’s something truly magical about watching an entire community fully embrace the spirit of the time, and come together in a significant way.

We loved Napier already, but celebrating it’s rebirth as part of the community this festival made us love it even more.