A town for sale: Why does no one want to live here?

Charles Hedges has space to spare in Ohura. Photo / Janna Dixon

It sounds like the sale of the century - 10 years ago Charles and Janet Hedges bought a house and two shops on 0.6 hectares for just $15,000.

In the next few days it's possible someone will get an even better deal when abandoned land is flogged off; the pair's only concern is they don't want their town, Ohura, over-run. Not that there's much chance of that. Demand is not high for plots of land in this part of remote King Country - it's flood-prone, with no cellphone coverage and three-quarters of an hour's drive from the nearest town.

Ohura doesn't exactly scream location, location, location. Rather, it resembles a ghost-town; a shell of its former self; the population dropped by a quarter to 165 in the last Census. But that was part of the appeal for the Hedges, who moved from Hamilton 10 years ago after Charles saw an advertisement in the local paper.

That $15,000 later and a home and prime retail space was theirs. They're putting it to use in a type of his 'n' hers retail arrangement - Charles stores his collection of odd-looking bicycles and 1950s motorbikes in his shop and Janet turned hers into a second-hand shop, called Janet's.

She opens every Saturday, or on request, although requests can make her grumpy, Charles says. Charles, 74, was sick of Hamilton and wanted enough room to pursue his love of tinkering in peace and quiet.

"My husband saw in the paper this place called Ohura. So we came down," says Janet. "Me and my grandkids took one look at it and oh gee! Charles fell in love with it." They're key components of the town, though moving was "a shock to the system".

The former bus company manager keeps herself busy weaving and running the Ohura Residents Society. She gets to town in Taumarunui usually about once a fortnight and goes to Te Kuiti once every one or two weeks to sell her weaving. Charles is content not having anyone around. "I wouldn't like to live anywhere else. I don't really have a routine - I just do what I want." They do, however, notice the numbers dwindling, but if moves by Ruapehu District Council work, that could reverse. Why? Tenders have just closed on the latest round of abandoned land sales, where the council sells off land on behalf of owners who don't pay their rates.

Council deputy chief executive Peter Till says it's the third abandoned land sale in three years. Twenty-three properties throughout the Ruapehu district are abandoned, 10 of which are in Ohura. The last time, 10 properties didn't even meet the reserve price, even though one section sold for $400.

This time, the council has lowered the tender reserve and is trying again. The council does not own the land, it's just allowed to sell it. Although the money goes to the owner, usually it's swallowed up by outstanding rates.

"In most cases, people write to the council saying they don't want to pay their rates and are abandoning their land," Till says. Over the next week, the council will decide who wins tenders and will get in touch with the winners. They don't have to pay any of the rates owing - it's not so much getting the money back but getting a good ratepayer for the future, he says. Many of the bids come from the town's residents.

"If you're the person next door, there's a very good reason for buying a bigger section and getting to control your neighbourhood." Till says, from memory, a three-bedroom home in Ohura sold for $10,000 in the last few years.

"That was a liveable house. The problem is, they don't come with a job." And that's no small problem. There's not a lot to attract anyone to the town. There has been talk of a new coal mine opening by the end of the year, but the mine prospectors have been saying that for years now. With nothing to reverse the trend, could the town disappear altogether?

"I think there's a danger," says Till. Ohura is the town that even the Forgotten Highway forgot. Heading west from Taumarunui on that scenic stretch of road, you turn off on to a narrow trail that carves its way through fog-ridden valleys which seem scooped out of the hillside. No sign welcomes you to Ohura. Just two wide, mossy strips of tarseal and a handful of abandoned buildings scattered along the roadside like broken teeth. Some abandoned sections can be seen from the main road, Ngarimu St.

One abandoned on Kereru Rd lies in disrepair among the weeds, a broken-down Subaru Legacy keeps it company. The house itself has seen better days. The paint's peeling and vines grow from within the weatherboards. Moss and branches all but hide the purple leadlights looking out on to the sagging deck. It would make the perfect setting for a horror film.

Neighbour John Farnham says the owner died and the family didn't pay the rates. "I'd be surprised if that place went for more than $10,000. Basically, they're not worth anything." It has a CV of $30,000 and annual rates of just over $1600.

On Kiwi St, another house sits on its abandoned site, but this one looks to be in slightly better nick. Nailed to the lone skeletal tree in the front yard is the frame of a tree-hut.

A discarded trampoline lies to one side. There are still kids' bikes in the garage. Neighbours Lionel Wellington, 66, and Sue Riley, 57, say a woman lived there with her children. The unpaid rates built up and she tried to sell it for $3000-$4000 but with a stipulation - the back rates had to be paid. With the house remaining unsold, the family left to make a go of it in Taumarunui and now Sue and Lionel have a bid in on the house, but won't say how much they're offering. It's not their first foray into the abandoned land market. It has a CV of $40,000 and rates of about $1600.

Last year Riley bought the abandoned section on the other side of her house for $1000. It's not uncommon - every time some land comes up for tender, a mini game of Monopoly is played in Ohura, the residents trying to out-bid each other to extend their empires. The Hedges, though, are happy with their lot and aren't looking to expand.

They warn it's not simply a matter of fronting up with the purchase price and that there is a fair bit of solitude. "It's got a bit dear with rates and that â€" people can't afford their rates," Janet says.

"The only thing going is the club. That's the heart of Ohura - the cozzie club." And as the pallid sunlight gives way to the fog, that's where the residents of Ohura end up. The place is huge - large enough to squeeze in the town's population three times over. Most of the tables and pool tables are covered over with sheets, the 50th birthday parties which attract large crowds increasingly uncommon.

A deer head mounted above the door wears a hat. Behind the bar are other bare essentials: Chef catfood and toilet paper. Handles of beer start at $2.50. A huge noticeboard is a forest of public notices. In front of it, a huddle of men in beanies and bush gear occupy one of the tables. Ainsley Wereta is one of them. The 42-year-old moved to Ohura about six months ago from Taihape to look after his grandparents. He says a three-bedroom rental costs between $80 and $100 in the town. He picks up shearing work or labouring to keep his family fed.

"It's good as, I love it. "There's a bit of hunting here, a few pigs and deer." His three children, aged between 8 and 11, make up more than a quarter of the school's roll. Wereta drinks with woodcutter Rob Dickinson, 55, who moved in five years ago to get away from his mortgage: "I own a house and I'm happy". "Anyone can live here if they want but no one wants to. They want to live next to the Westfield shopping mall and the McDonald's. "People say 'you poor thing'. But really we're lucky. I just don't want anyone else living here."

But people did live there once. Lots of people. The council's property contracts supervisor, Denny Moynihan, grew up in Ohura, the third generation of coal miners in the town. He moved to Taumarunui about 20 years ago when the mine closed.

"I sold my five-bedroom home with two sections for $30,000, 20 years ago. "That's the attraction - low value houses. But you've got to be prepared to live there." He says growing up in the town was excellent - the town had its own council and rugby team. There were about 400 students at the primary and secondary schools there, whose parents worked the farms and coal mines in the area. But the mines shut and the smaller farms were bought out, shrinking the local labour force.

Instead of hosting small pockets of on-site workers, large farms would bring in teams of contractors who would sweep through the place in a few days, moving on to the next small town. The effects can be seen 30 years on, with Ohura on the verge of disappearing off the face of the earth. Almost anywhere else in the country, land going for a four-figure sum would most likely be a typing error and would inspire a flood of investors.

Not in Ohura. Location, location, location - the cliche holds true no matter where you are.