On Sunday morning when the farmers market is on, we park in the lawyers' car park across the road. I've met the managing partner of the firm there a few times and he's never called me on it. Why would he? There are probably over a dozen parks in there and do you know any small town lawyers who work on Sundays?
Conveyancing lawyers may have to, of course, with droves of city slickers converging on the place to take advantage of our housing prices.
We probably all remember the story about the house for sale in Nightcaps a couple of years ago for $25,000. Sadly, houses in my small town (pop. 5700) aren't quite such bargains. But what do you expect in a town cosmopolitan enough to have a Briscoes? We got ours about three years ago and impulse shopping for mid-range homewares became a possibility. Our range of frypans and bed linen increased exponentially. Country living -- what's not to love?
Well, there is the noise problem. Everyone says it's lovely and quiet in the country but that's so not true. Even within the town boundaries people have an acre or two, plus a three-bay garage filled with ride-on lawn mowers, push mowers, line-trimmers, chain saws and mulchers. Retirees spend all weekend in their gardens making noise.
Younger home owners have children who ride two strokes, four strokes and various other kinds of strokes, rather than ponies, which they should do, being country kids.
And how about the drivers? I'm not sure if it's country living that breeds bad drivers but give me an Auckland driver any old day. Auckland drivers indicate when they're changing lanes, they can merge like a zip, and they let you ease into a line of traffic without blasting the horn at you.
Thankfully, they know how roundabouts work, but people in our village don't. We have seven roundabouts and they're still treated by many with mistrust. The one at the end of the main street was confusing from the get-go and a few months after it was completed one of its lanes was blocked off with temporary barriers. It's been like that since.
Another common criticism of country life is that everyone knows your business. Possibly they do, but only if you tell them. Of course, when everyone's your mate it's hard not moan about your pending separation. If one of you doesn't spill the beans about the difficulties with your property settlement, the other one will. Everyone eventually gets all the details and when it's over, they try to fix you up with someone who can refill your depleted coffers.
The trouble is, it's very hard in a small town to find someone who hasn't been hooked up with one of your friends, or who lives next door to your ex. But on the upside, it's easy to meet people. A friend of mine met his new partner when he was driving out of his driveway with his gear in the back of the ute, escaping his old partner. His neighbour, fortuitously, was driving out of her driveway doing the same thing. They commiserated and then co-habitated. Happily ever after.
If you're new in town and a bit lonesome, it's not hard to collect mates. Small towns need volunteers for charities so it's easy to get involved. There also seems to be a range of people offering courses in a number of obscure crafts and past-times -- tatting, ukelele, competitive dog grooming. And if all else fails, people are simply chattier -- you can make friends with someone in the same queue at the supermarket.
To ensure you do meet people and find interesting things do, choose a town with a polytech, a bar with a quiz night, a library and a movie theatre.
We have all of those, as well as this flash theatre complex far in excess of the expectations of most small towns. There are three screens, so there's usually something reasonable to watch. Until a few weeks ago you could always get a seat (plush, comfortable, roomy) without booking, but Hunt for the Wilderpeople changed all that. The theatre manager has promised to let me know when it calms down.
So if you're keen, a bit of advice about housing. Pick a house that's on town water or irrigation supply. We have a few power cuts around here and despite the best efforts of the men in yellow, they often go on for a while. If you're on tank water which is delivered to your house by a pump, a cuppa will be out of the question.
Oh, and one more thing. The rates. We pay around $2500 in rates for our small house on its two acre block. There's no rubbish collection, no town water supply, no sewerage, no street lighting and no footpath. But that's OK. We prefer the rainwater off the roof, our 16-year-old septic tank works perfectly, and there's no light pollution at night.
So where is my idyllic tiny town? I'm not telling. I want it to stay tiny. Go and live in Nightcaps -- last time I looked there were 11 houses listed for sale there and not one of them over the $200,000 mark. Why would you not?
