Princes, paupers, and poor immigrants: househunting from Pakuranga to Papatoetoe

We’d been in Auckland for two days, and were feeling as if we’d been hit by a plane, not just travelled on one. But we only have two weeks’ paid-for accommodation in our little motel, so we decided to sally forth and hunt a house. We felt emboldened by Streicher’s generous early-Christmas present of a very cool new Tomtom GPS, and with our handy “Where to live in Auckland” guide (thanks, Amazon!), nothing could be simpler, right? Er. Not quite.

The problem, see, is that Penny has forgotten that she is now a new, unemployed immigrant and not a swanky, top-earning professional. She was also quite naïve about the fact that it is pretty much only in South Africa where you can get a substantial house for a smallish rental. She further reasoned that a small, pretty house costs the same as an small, ugly house, but failed to appreciate that those other people who also think so and don’t have jetlag, two small children and no babysitter will get there first. It’s worse than the race for Oregon. The paper comes out, the Internet listing is posted and bang! They’re off! If there was any dust left in Auckland after the rain, you’d be choking on it. And by the time Willem and Penny got there, that pretty weatherboard house with the blue trim and broekie lace round the porch was rented yesterday. And the spacious, sunny one with the deck? Sorry, rented yesterday. What about that tiny but well-situated cottage with the flowering creeper all around the door? That one went just this morning. But we have a lovely place that was converted from the pokey garage of that big house that overlooks the bay – for three times what you can afford, naturally. Four bedrooms? Don’t make me laugh. Two bathrooms? You can flush your dollars down that extra toilet, luvey. A garage? Wotcha want a garage for, you can’t afford a car. A garden? No, but there are lots of lovely parks all over Auckland, sweetheart. And then of course you want a house in a good school zone – and the schools are rather fierce about their zoning, to the very last house. So you can choose – a spacious house into which (most of) your furniture can fit, and a school where most of the children have only recently learned English; or a tiny hovel within walking distance of one of the better Auckland schools, and your furniture can stand outside in the rain ’cos it’s OSP (On Street Parking – NZ realty lingo).

So Willem had to placate Penny with lots of soothing words and glasses of wine. He eventually dropped her and the kids this morning (Sunday) at the Auckland Museum. Here they enjoyed a Maori dance performance (Max trembled but took notes during the haka display) and ambled at their leisure through the delightful displays of New Zealand cultural and natural history, while Willem, unencumbered by a fussy, snobbish, vociferous wife and two travel-weary and bored children, sped off with the Tomtom and found a house. He hopes. He has yet to show it to Penny. He has, however, taken great pains to prepare her for the shock that it is not a cute, whitewashed-weatherboard cottage, although it does have a small garden, garage, and a big basement (for the furniture), and is in walking distance of all things important (good area, good school, beach, parks, quaint shopping, lots of coffee shops). She was mollified by the prospect of the coffee shops (the slut), but is reserving judgement till she sees it on Monday morning (estate agents in NZ don’t seem to work much on weekends or after hours – and house show times last just half-an-hour!).

Today, the house. Tomorrow, the car. On Sundays there’s a car fair in a suburb called Ellerslie, which is easy to find when you have a Tomtom (yay, Streicher!). Hopefully buying a cheap second-hand Japanese car will be easier, since Penny doesn’t feel quite as strongly about fancy cars. As long as it has more than two doors. And power steering, of course. And let’s not forget the central locking. Oh yes, and aircon. And airbags would be nice, since you’re asking. And if it’s any colour but white that would be most excellent, indeed.