Travel Day…We’re off to Auckland for an overnight stay…A two hour drive…An early morning flight…

The view from the kitchen in our holiday home in Kaiwaka, New Zealand.

By the time I glanced at the clock and saw it was edging toward 11:00 am, the house in Kaiwaka was back to how we found it: clean, organized, and uncluttered with our stuff. We’re totally packed except for the computer bag and a few odds and ends. The little car is loaded to the brim. Only the sense of anticipation remains.

This house…oh, how we’ll remember it.

It wasn’t only the structure itself, lovely as it was, perched in its peaceful pocket of rural New Zealand. It was Dave and Eing. From the moment we arrived, weary and road-worn, they wrapped us in kindness. There’s something profoundly comforting about landlords who feel more like friends, who show up with a bag of jasmine rice because they read you were running low, who insist on dinner and quietly outmaneuver you when the bill arrives.

For two months, we lived in a kind of gentle stillness.

Yes, the location was remote. There were times we had to plan carefully for groceries or errands. But what we gained in exchange was immeasurable. No traffic noise—no traffic at all, really. No crowds. No sirens. Instead, our days were punctuated by the bleating of sheep, the low murmurs of cattle, and the occasional triumphant crow of a rooster. The peacocks’ haunting, almost cry-like calls would drift through the air, and the magpies carried on their animated chatter as if narrating the countryside.

Silence, but never emptiness.

This morning, as Tom slid the last bags into the car, we realized we could leave one newer carry-on behind for Dave and Eing.  Doing so, may mean I won’t be wedged quite so tightly in the front seat during our two-hour drive to Auckland. Small victories matter in this nomadic life.

Yesterday, we found ourselves talking about Penguin, Tasmania, and what awaits us there. A town of just over 4,000 people, hardly a metropolis, but after Kaiwaka’s sweeping rural landscape, it will feel lively in the most delightful way. Easy access to shopping. Restaurants within minutes. The freedom to pop out for coffee without mapping a minor expedition.

And the beach.

Across the road from our new home, the shoreline stretches wide and welcoming. Parks nearby. The scent of salt air. And each evening, the fairy penguins will return from the sea, waddling ashore in the ritual that gave the town its name. I can hardly wait to see them with my own eyes. When we do, of course, we’ll share photos. Some moments are too special not to pass along.

It will be cooler there than Kaiwaka has been lately, and I’m looking forward to the temperate air. The heavy humidity we’ve felt here will give way to something fresher, something brisk enough to invite long seaside walks.

And then there are the celebrations ahead.

Valentine’s Day. My birthday, on February 20. Our 31st wedding anniversary, on March 7.

Three beautiful markers in just a few short weeks. We may go out to dinner. We may simply stay in, sip our adult beverages, make a special dinner, and treasure the view by the water with grateful hearts. After all these years, it’s less about grand gestures and more about shared glances, quiet laughter, and the steady comfort of knowing we’re still choosing this life, and each other, every single day.

There is so much to celebrate beyond the dates on the calendar. The quality of our lives. The freedom to follow the sun. The kindness of strangers who become friends. The health that allows us to pack up once again and head toward the next horizon.

We leave Kaiwaka with full hearts. And we arrive in Penguin carrying that gratitude with us.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 11, 2016:

A photo re-post from 2014 on this date ten years ago. As our ship made its way to the port of Venice, our mouths were agape in surprise at the feast that lay before our eyes. A photo re-post from 2014 on this date ten years ago. As our ship made its way to the port of Venice, our mouths were agape in surprise at the feast that lay before our eyes.  Click here for one of two posts about Venice. Click here for the ten-year-old recap.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday!…More new local photos…Two days and counting!!!

Whangārei, NZ, features numerous stunning beaches, primarily within 30-45 minutes of the city center. Key spots include the popular, patrolled Ocean Beach at Whangārei Heads, the long white sands of Ruakākā Beach, and the scenic Matapōuri Bay or Sandy Bay on the Tūtūkākā Coast, all offering excellent swimming, surfing, and coastal scenery.

Today’s post will be short, and not because there isn’t plenty swirling through my mind. It is short for two very practical reasons. First, I have packing to do. In two days, we’ll be leaving Kaiwaka after nearly two months in this peaceful little corner of New Zealand. Tomorrow night, we’ll stay near the airport in Auckland, positioning ourselves for an early-morning flight to Tasmania. The process of moving on has become familiar to us over these many years, yet it always carries a mix of anticipation and quiet reflection. We’ve settled into the green pastures, the winding country roads, the gentle cadence of rural life. And now, once again, it’s time to follow the next bend in the road.

We drove to the surfing area, but there was no parking available and no way to get close enough to the beach without a long, steep walk.

At least this time, the two-hour drive to Auckland will be in daylight. When we arrived here on December 13, that drive felt endless. It was dark. We were exhausted. Both of us were sick, and I was struggling with a respiratory virus that made every breath feel tight and labored. I remember sitting cramped in the front seat of the tiny rental car, luggage wedged beneath my feet, trying to find a position that allowed me to breathe just a little easier. The highway lights blurred past while I silently counted miles and wished for a bed.

It is strange how certain travel days etch themselves into memory more vividly than the postcard-perfect ones.

Hopefully, this departure will feel lighter. We are well now. Stronger. Grateful. The suitcases may be just as full, but we are not weighed down in the same way.

The tide was out, revealing a lot of the sandy beach.

The second reason for today’s short post is far less dramatic and much more fun.

I intend to pack everything we won’t need over the next 48 hours so I can settle in and watch the Super Bowl with Tom. Living on the opposite side of the world means American traditions arrive at unusual times. Here in New Zealand, it’s already Monday, and the game kicks off at 12:30 in the afternoon.

Even after years of international travel, moments like this remind us that we carry pieces of home wherever we land. A big game. Familiar commercials. The comfort of a shared cultural event unfolding thousands of miles away. It keeps us connected, even as our address changes.

So today will be a blend of packing, setting aside what we’ll need for the next two days, mentally reviewing flight details, and carving out a few uninterrupted hours to enjoy the game. It feels balanced somehow. Responsibility first. Then a small celebration.

The inlet led to the open ocean through a channel in the upper right of this photo. As a result, several boats were moored here.

Tasmania awaits. Another island. Another chapter. Another set of experiences at Penguin we can remember from ten years ago, when we enjoyed ourselves so much. In Tasmania, we’ll be close to shopping and restaurants, with easy access to the quaint little ocean village with lots of penguin statues.

We’ll be back with more tomorrow, once the suitcases are zipped and the final details are tucked neatly into place.

Enjoy your day, wherever in the world you may be.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 9, 2016:

Surfing and kayaking are popular in both New Zealand and Australia. For more photos, please click here.

A story from ten years ago today…Four days and counting…

A simple life in the country…

Sunset at the alpaca farm in New Plymouth, New Zealand.

Note: It’s ironic that we’re back in New Zealand ten years later. We thought it would be fun to share this story we posted on this date in 2016. See the ten-year-old post below:

“The house has a metal roof, and it’s a veritable hot box on hot days. We have no choice but to leave the sliding doors open. The flies and sand flies are bad. I wear repellent round the clock, re-applying it three times a day.

This alpaca, Amber Rose, who recently gave birth, often looks at me through the kitchen window while I’m preparing meals, at times pressing her nose to the glass.

Last night, a dragonfly was flying around the bedroom, making noise as it bumped into the walls, keeping me awake most of the night. With no screens on any of the doors or windows, we can’t open any of the bedroom windows at night to cool off the hot room.

The fan moves the hot air around but doesn’t seem to cool it down. We’ve only used the comforter on a few occasions.

The WiFi is metered, and we can’t download as many of our favorite shows as we’ve often been able to in other locations. We’re in a tough position, knowing we won’t have good enough WiFi in Bali to download shows. We’d hoped to download everything we’d need while we’re here to watch later in Bali. That may not happen.

Each sunny afternoon, the alpacas crowd to the side of the house to find shelter in the shade. See more below.

I love it here. Tom loves it here. Adaptation. It’s a simple life in the country.

There’s a lot to love; the alpacas; the many comforts in the house; the ever-changing exquisite scenery surrounding us; the sound of the flowing nearby river; the kind and helpful owners, Trish and Neil; the New Zealand people; the ideal shopping fulfilling all of our needs from the health food store to the grass-fed only meat market to the weekly farmers market with the best eggs in the South Pacific.

The number of alpacas in the shade from our house grows with the heat of the sun.

Yes, there is a lot to love. Yesterday, I filled a bowl with a special grass mix for the alpacas and hand-fed it to them as my feet dangled over the edge of the veranda.  I couldn’t take photos while my hands were otherwise busy. It didn’t seem to matter at the time. Sorry about that. Sometimes the experience supersedes all else.

Hanging the laundry on the clothesline is a pleasant experience in itself, as is each time I step outdoors in my bare feet to check to see if it’s dry. The feel of the soft, neatly trimmed grass under my feet sends my senses reeling, reminding me of the yet unproven philosophy of “earthing” or “grounding,” which may have some truth. See here for details.

The grouping of cria started with these four.  They love sitting in this dirt, rolling around, and getting dirty. See below after it grew in numbers.

The rental car sits in the driveway, used only three times a week for various local trips. We don’t want to leave more often. Everything we could possibly want is right here within a few hours’ drive.

In minutes, the group of cria grew to eight.

Yesterday, I walked alone when Tom didn’t feel like joining me. As I approached the cattle, my favorite pregnant female immediately spotted me heading to the fence. She literally danced, so happy to see me, lifting one leg at a time as she rocked in place, shaking her head back and forth, slobber flying from her mouth.

My favorite cow was separated from what may have been her last offspring.  We often find them close to one another, sneaking affection through the fence.

She moaned in frustration as I walked away. Had anyone seen this, they would have laughed at this crazy woman communicating with a cow. I’ve often wondered if I should have lived on a farm when I’ve always been drawn to barnyard animals, rolling dough, and baking bread (in my old life, when I could eat gluten).

Instead, for now, we live this simple life, spending a lot of time outdoors, cooking good meals, mingling with life in the country, and taking photos of precious moments, with the ongoing joy of sharing them daily with all of YOU, as we’ve shown today.

This mom and son, Mont Blanc, were separated by the fence when Mont Blanc crawled under it and escaped. Later, Trish and Neil picked him up and placed him over the fence, not an easy task. We often see them in close contact, perhaps because they remember being once separated. Although Mont Blanc, the only blue-eyed cria in the group of 12, loves playing with the other youngsters.

For those in the US, may you have a fun-filled Super Bowl Sunday, upcoming tomorrow. (We’ll be watching it here on Monday). And to our friends in New Zealand, enjoy the rest of Waitangi Weekend. For details of this holiday, please click here.

Have a happy day in the country, city, desert, mountains or plains or, wherever you may be…”

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 7, 2016:

Last year’s young bulls, in New Plymouth, New Zealand. For more, please click here.

Last evening’s dinner out with Dave and Eing…Five days and counting…

The view from the Mangawhei Tavern as we settled in for dinner.    

Last evening unfolded in one of those quiet, meaningful ways that travel sometimes gifts you when you least expect it. Our thoughtful landlords and new friends, Dave and Eing, insisted on taking us out to dinner, and from the moment we set off, it felt less like an evening out and more like a continuation of the kindness they have shown us since the day we arrived. Early on, we decided we’d pick up the bill.

There was plenty of indoor and outdoor seating. We dined outdoors.

They picked us up as we headed to the town of Mangawhai, where they took a short detour to show us the popular beach. Tomorrow, we’ll share those photos. By 6:15, we entered the Mangawhai Tavern, a familiar local spot that hums with easy conversation and the comfortable pace of a community that knows one another well. There were singles, couples, and families, many with their dogs in tow. I always enjoy visiting restaurants where dogs are allowed outdoors.

Dave and Eing had made a reservation, and our table was ready for us.

The light was already beginning to soften as evening settled in, and there was that relaxed, end-of-day feeling that makes conversation flow a little more freely. We slid into our seats at a large outdoor picnic table, where staff warmly greeted us as we ordered our beverages. Tom ordered beer, and I ordered a glass of Malbec, one of my favorites. In moments, we had our menus in hand, and I perused the menu to see what would work for my eating style. My dish, as shown in the photo, was gluten-free and mostly complied with my way of eating. Tom decided on the delicious fish and chips, as did Dave and Eing.

Tom, ever discreet, quietly made his plan known to the waiter. He asked that the bill for the evening’s drinks and dinner be brought to him when the time came. It was a small gesture, but an important one. After all, Dave and Eing had already done so much for us, and it felt right to return even a fraction of that generosity. Tom gave me a glance and a subtle nod, the universal sign of “it’s handled,” and we settled back into the evening, unaware that events were already moving in a different direction.

Dogs allowed!

Unbeknownst to us, Dave had his own plan in motion. Somehow, between conversation and laughter, he managed to get to the waiter after Tom had talked to him, well before the rest of us had any idea what was happening. By the time plates were cleared and the easy, satisfied pause that follows a good meal arrived, the bill had already been paid in full. There was no discussion, no opportunity to protest. Dave had quietly and decisively taken care of everything.

When we realized what had happened, we were genuinely touched. It wasn’t just the meal itself, though that alone would have been generous. It was the intention behind it, the effortless way they gave without making it feel transactional or performative. Just kindness, offered simply and sincerely.

My meal consisted of a rolled piece of beef in a gluten-free au jus with grilled carrots and greens, all atop a bed of mashed eggplant. On the side was a little cup of pomegranate seeds, which I couldn’t resist. Each bite was delicious!

This dinner was only one more example of the warmth Dave and Eing have shown us throughout our entire stay. Not long after we arrived, Dave read one of my posts where I mentioned, almost in passing, that we had run out of rice. The very next day, he arrived with a fresh bag of jasmine rice, placed it on the counter, and brushed it off as though it were nothing. Those are the moments that linger, the ones that remind you how deeply people can listen and how thoughtfully they can respond.

They invited us to two parties during our time here, welcoming us into their circle and introducing us to friends who immediately made us feel included. Christmas Day dinner was another highlight, one of those dinners that carries a sense of belonging far beyond the holiday itself. We were guests, yes, but never made to feel like outsiders. Conversations flowed easily, stories were shared, and laughter filled the room in that unmistakable way that only happens when people are truly comfortable together.

They all enjoyed the fish and chips.

What we appreciated just as much as their generosity was their company. Dave and Eing have a way of making time slow down, of being fully present in conversation. The friends we met at the parties carried that same easy warmth, and by the end of each gathering, it felt less like meeting new people and more like reconnecting with familiar ones.

Travel often introduces us to beautiful and memorable places, landscapes, and experiences. But every so often, it introduces us to people who leave an even deeper impression. Dave and Eing are firmly in that category. Their thoughtfulness, their generosity, and their genuine interest in making us feel welcome have shaped our time here in ways we will carry with us long after we’ve moved on.

Last evening at the Mangawhai Tavern was about far more than dinner. It was about generosity given freely, friendships formed unexpectedly, and the quiet reminder that sometimes, the best parts of travel have nothing to do with distance at all.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 6, 2016:

Continuation of the historic Plas Mawr home we presented yesterday…This clever seating nook and appropriate narrow table brought visions of “tea time” to mind. For more photos, please click here.

Historic properties worldwide…Out to dinner with our lovely property owners/new friends….

A historic house we visited in New Plymouth, New Zealand. See the 2016 post here.

Visiting historic properties has become one of the quiet anchors of our travels, the steady thread that stitches together countries, climates, and cultures as we move through the world. No matter where we find ourselves, there is something grounding about stepping into a place that has already lived many lives before we arrive. These buildings, estates, ruins, and preserved homes remind us that while our journey feels expansive and modern, it is layered on top of countless human stories that came long before us.

As travelers, we have learned that historic properties are rarely just about architecture. They are about people, routines, conflicts, triumphs, and ordinary days that somehow survived long enough to leave an imprint. Walking through an old manor, a centuries-old farmhouse, or a once grand city residence, we find ourselves slowing down almost instinctively. The pace changes.

The entrance to the sunroom.

One of the most fascinating aspects of visiting historic properties is how universal yet deeply local they are. A stone cottage or a house such as this, which we visited in New Plymouth, New Zealand in 2016, are storytellers. They speak of who had power, who labored behind the scenes, how families gathered, and how survival shaped daily life. We often leave these places with a deeper understanding of the country we are visiting, not from dates and timelines, but from kitchens, bedrooms, gardens, and worn staircases.

Traveling long term has given us the luxury of comparison, something short visits rarely allow. We notice how climate influenced design, such as thick stone walls, as we experienced in Boveglio, Italy, in the Tuscany region. We notice how resources dictated beauty, ornate woodwork where timber was abundant, and simple lines where materials were scarce. Even the smallest details, a hand-carved doorframe or uneven floorboards, hint at the skills and limitations of another era. These are things you cannot fully grasp from books or photos. They need to be experienced in person, quietly, and without rushing.

There is also an emotional element that sneaks up on us when visiting historic properties. Some places feel warm and lived in, almost welcoming, while others carry a heaviness that lingers long after we leave, such as the ruins we visited in Ireland in 2017. Former prisons such as The Tench, which we visited in Hobart, Tasmania, battle sites, such as Normandy, France, in 2014, or homes tied to painful histories often stay with us the longest. They remind us that travel is not always about beauty and escape. Sometimes it is about witnessing, acknowledging, and learning to sit with discomfort as part of understanding the world more honestly.

Seeing these cute flowers was a first for us.

We have found that historic properties often reveal the everyday lives that history books overlook. Grand events are important, but it is the small details that tend to resonate most. A narrow servant staircase tucked out of sight. A child’s bedroom, no larger than a closet. A kitchen hearth worn smooth by generations of hands. These details humanize the past and make it easier to imagine ourselves there, dealing with the same fears, hopes, and routines, just under very different circumstances.

As nomads, these places also provide a strange sense of continuity. When you are constantly moving, it can be easy to feel untethered. Historic properties remind us that movement, change, and adaptation are not new concepts. People have always migrated, rebuilt, expanded, and endured. Standing in a home that has survived wars, economic collapse, or natural disasters puts our own temporary inconveniences into perspective. It is humbling and oddly comforting.

June apologized for the dandelions and the sparse lawn, citing a lack of rain at the time. We could easily imagine a lush green lawn in a more rainy climate.

Some of our favorite moments happen after we leave the property itself. We sit with a coffee nearby, looking back at the structure from a distance, imagining how many others have stood in that same spot with entirely different lives and futures ahead of them. In those moments, travel feels less like ticking destinations off a list and more like participating in an ongoing human story.

Visiting historic properties has taught us to travel with curiosity rather than urgency. These places reward patience and attention. They invite reflection. As we continue to move through the world, they remain some of the most meaningful stops on our journey, quiet reminders that, as we pass through, the stories we encounter are enduring, layered, and deeply worth listening to.

This evening, we’re heading out to dinner with our lovely landlords and new friends, Dave and Eing. They have been incredibly kind to us. Most recently, after Dave read our post about being out of rice, he showed up at the door the next day with a new bag of jasmine rice. Such a small gesture, yet so thoughtful. Tomorrow, we’ll share photos and details from our evening out.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 5, 2016:

Our host, June, whom we met at the supermarket, invited us to see her historic home in New Plymouth, New Zealand. Plas Mawr is a historic custom home built in 1913 by the renowned New Zealand architect James Chapman-Taylor, with a stunning garden as shown here. For more photos, please click here.

For those who haven’t checked in lately…Those annoying ads on our website are gone!…

Agapanthus flowers in New Zealand are classified as weeds and considered invasive, although they are beautiful, as they grow along roads and highways.

After a grueling month spent untangling maintenance issues on our website, I finally feel comfortable placing this chapter gently behind me, at least for a little while. It has been one of those stretches where the work is invisible to everyone else but consumes an extraordinary amount of mental space. The kind of work that follows you into your sleep and reappears first thing in the morning with a new question or concern.

With Hostinger, our excellent hosting company, and its network of technicians worldwide, most major issues have now been resolved. These technicians step in when needed for a reasonable fee, and their expertise has been invaluable. At this point, only a few minor issues remain, nothing urgent enough to demand immediate attention or disrupt our daily posts. For now, the site is running more efficiently than it has in quite some time. However, we are experiencing paragraph spacing issues, which we reported today to our new tech guy. This should be resolved within a day or two.

That said, technology never stands still. Given the current style and design of our site, along with ongoing WordPress changes, I know a redesign will eventually be necessary to ensure compatibility and stability. Rather than rushing into that process while we are constantly on the move, I have decided to postpone the redesign until we reach Marloth Park. There, we will be staying on and off for nine months, providing the stability and focus that such a project truly requires.

When that time comes, I will be sure to notify our readers in advance. There may be a brief period when the site is inaccessible, but it should be no more than a few days. If we do not take this step at some point, the risk is that the site could eventually crash altogether. While I am hopeful it will hold until then, I also want to be transparent. Even if the site were to crash unexpectedly before our planned redesign, we would not be down for long. We monitor things closely and will immediately launch the new version.

In practical terms, the most you would experience is a brief pause in access to our daily posts. There will be nothing for you to do and nothing you need to fix or adjust on your end. We will handle it and keep you informed every step of the way.

I truly appreciate the patience you have shown during this recent maintenance period. It means more than you might realize. I am also relieved and genuinely happy to say that we are now up and running more smoothly in the interim. For those who haven’t checked in lately, you will notice a very welcome change. All of those annoying ads are gone.

We deliberately chose to forgo any potential revenue from that intrusive advertising style. Instead, we chose to focus only on the advertisers displayed on the right side of the page when viewed on a computer and at the bottom of the page when reading on a smartphone. This felt more respectful of your experience and more aligned with the spirit of why we started this site in the first place.

If you are able, please help support us by using those links when they are relevant to you. The small amount of revenue they generate helps offset some of the costs of maintaining this free site. The prices and services are exactly the same as if you visited those websites directly through your browser.

Thank you, as always, for your patience, understanding, and continued presence here with us.
On another note, yesterday turned out to be the hottest day we have experienced since arriving in Kaiwaka in mid December. On paper, it hardly sounded dramatic at all, just 80F or 27C. In reality, the humidity told a very different story. At 95 percent, the air felt thick and unrelenting, with a dew point of 78 degrees creating an oppressive, nearly saturated atmosphere. Everything felt sticky and heavy, even indoors. For the first time, in the late afternoon, we switched on the air conditioner in the lounge room and let it run until bedtime. Thankfully, today feels calm, cooler, and wonderfully comfortable again.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 3, 2016:

A horse, shown in New Plymouth, New Zealand, wore a blanket to regulate body temperature and protect it from the elements. For more photos, please click here.

Ten years ago…Have we changed much in ten years?…

The main thoroughfare, Eliot St., in downtown New Plymouth heads out to the ocean.

The following is a slightly revised (I corrected numerous errors) copy of a post from ten years ago, found here.

“When we arrived in New Plymouth 15 days ago, we expected WiFi to be available. This wasn’t the case, and we had no choice but to head to a local phone store, buy a device, and load up on expensive data.

To date, we’ve spent NZ 593 and US $388 on Internet access fees, an expense we hadn’t anticipated. Don’t get me wrong… the owners are very kind and caring people, and we’ve greatly appreciated their efforts and attention to detail.

They had no idea it would take so long to get service, assuming only a day or two. They’d tried to arrange it over the holidays but couldn’t pin down a date. We have no doubt they tried. But, as in many parts of the world, not everything happens according to a schedule one would prefer.

Ornate house on a corner.

Actually, we feel bad about how much pressure we’ve placed on them as the WiFi bill continues to rack up expenses day after day. Yesterday, I paid the bill after Spark set up an account for us to be paid monthly, without requiring a 12-month contract.

Yesterday, Trish stopped by with an extra fan (without our asking) since we’ve been hauling the one fan we had up and down the stairs every day. Although the air is relatively cool here in summer, the metal roof makes the house very hot on sunny days.

St. Andrews Presbyterian Church in downtown New Plymouth is another historic building.

We’ve decided to keep the doors open, welcoming the cool breezes most days, and deal with the flies. They aren’t biting flies and seem fairly easy to swat with the flyswatter we purchased. They are considerably less prevalent on cooler, windy days. By dinner time, we close the doors, kill the flies, and have dinner, preferring that no flies buzz over our food. This plan seems to be working.

After handing me the fan, Trish explained she’d heard from Vodafone, who are to arrive today. We had an appointment with June for today and had planned to grocery shop after we were done. We immediately contacted June, apologizing and kindly asking that we change the date. She was happy to make a change.

Contemporary houses overlooking the ocean.

In the process, we decided to postpone the grocery shopping until Thursday, after Tom’s 10:15 dentist appointment. We have enough food on hand for Wednesday’s meals. Goodness, we haven’t had “appointments” to speak of other than our medical exams while in Australia.

We’ve loved having a simple life, avoiding planning and instead waiting until we “feel like” doing something. Now, we have three dinner reservations looming: for Valentine’s Day, my birthday, and our anniversary; Tom’s dental appointments; and the meeting with June.

Has our free-spirited lifestyle taken a break while we’re here in convenient New Zealand with everything we could need or want at our fingertips? There’s even a movie theatre here showing current US movies at NZ 10, US $6.55 for seniors. Perhaps, we’ll give it a try on a rainy day.

Modern-style houses and apartments.

The last time Tom and I attended a movie together was in the theatres on cruise ships or watching on the huge screen out by the beach, but attending an actual movie theatre?

The last time I attended a movie, Interstellar, was with my son Greg in December 2014 in Hawaii, when the family visited us on the Big Island. Both my sons and I always enjoyed attending movies together, especially back in my days of eating popcorn, long since passed.

Seldom do we have access to an English-speaking movie theatre. Seldom do we make appointments, locking ourselves into specific dates and times for events, except on travel days.

As much as parts of our lives may require extensive planning and preparation for the next leg of the journey, the next year, and, oftentimes, two years out, our daily lives are simple and uncomplicated. Somehow, it all works.

When all is said and done, we’re blissfully happy. Having accomplished that single feat in life is more than either of us ever expected during these “golden years” of our lives.

On Valentine’s night, we have a dinner reservation at Table Restaurant, as shown on the right of this photo.

Isn’t that our ultimate desire… happiness, seemingly elusive, yet once a decision is made to become happy? We often find the opportunities to do so right at our fingertips. We’re truly blessed and grateful to have found it, and we’ll continue to hang on tight for as long as we can.

May your day bring you happiness.”

After reading this ten-year-old post, I don’t see that we’ve changed that much. We may have become more tolerant, resilient, and perhaps even more resourceful after a plethora of unexpected experiences. We are still the same individuals and the same couple who thrive on life on the road and being together. Who knows what the future holds, or whether we’ll still be traveling in years to come? We live one day at a time, grateful for every opportunity, for every moment, of precious life on the move in this vast world.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 2, 2016:

Colorful apartment building in New Plymouth, New Zealand. For more photos, please click here.

Is AI going to replace your job?…An eye-opening article for those who still work but would like to travel the world…

Do you dream of this type of job?

I’m not certain of our readers’ demographics, but it’s likely that at least half are still working, still committed to routines and responsibilities, while quietly daydreaming about what it might feel like to travel the world with fewer constraints. That space between obligation and imagination is familiar. This morning, while sipping coffee and watching another new day unfold, I stumbled across an article I felt compelled to share. It lingered with me longer than expected, tapping into conversations we’ve heard more and more often, especially among friends and acquaintances who are still firmly planted in the workforce.

Many people are understandably concerned that artificial intelligence may one day take over their current jobs, or at least reshape them beyond recognition. It’s a heavy thought, and one that can stir anxiety if left unchecked. But what struck me most was the article’s underlying message. Rather than reacting with fear, it suggested responding with intention. What better way to face that possibility than to have a plan in place, a thoughtful alternative path, should a human job suddenly disappear?

For those still working, still saving, still imagining a different type of life, this perspective feels especially relevant. Planning isn’t pessimism. It’s empowerment. And sometimes, it’s the first quiet step toward a life you’ve only dared to imagine so far. Here’s the article from Travel and Leisure online magazine:

“13 Jobs That Pay You to Travel the World
Here’s proof you can turn a passion for travel into a full-fledged career. By Lydia Mansel
Published on January 29, 2026

As a freelance travel journalist, I’m frequently told I have the “dream job.” Multiple times a month, I fly to a new city, new state, or new country, searching for adventures and stories. Like all careers, there are definitely downsides, but there’s not a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for the experiences this type of career has afforded me. After all, if it wasn’t for this job, I may never have seen the famous bears in Katmai National Park and Preserve or ridden in a truck rounding up one of the largest bison herds in the U.S.

But becoming a travel writer or editor isn’t the only way to get paid to explore the world. There are dozens of other jobs you can choose that will inevitably take you to new places. Below, we rounded up 13 of them, along with firsthand advice from people who have made travel a core part of their work.

English Teacher
If you want to move abroad for a period of time, teaching English as a second language is an effective way to make that happen—but you’ll typically need to get your Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) certification, a process that takes about 120 hours. The effort is worth it, though, as Shayna Stewart, a Rosetta Stone English tutor, attests. “Through teaching English, I have been able to explore what life looks like in the highlands of Mexico and get glimpses into the lives of students in Ethiopia, Vietnam, Turkey, and so many other countries,” she tells Travel + Leisure.

As far as advice for those interested in this type of career, she suggests taking the time to “truly learn English” and “have an idea of what is actually happening linguistically.” “Learning a language is one of the hardest things many people will ever do. Making sure to be prepared to guide others through that process requires more than fluency; it requires awareness, intention, and an understanding of how language works,” she says. “That preparation, organization, and critical thinking not only make you a better teacher but also position you more competitively in the eyes of employers.”

Travel Advisor
Travel advisors (or travel agents) are experts in travel planning; it’s their job to know the ins and outs of destinations, airlines, and on-the-ground experiences so they can plan the perfect trip for clients. “In my role, I design highly personalized, luxury travel experiences for clients—everything from milestone family trips to once-in-a-lifetime honeymoons and multi-week international itineraries,” says McLean Robbins, founder and lead designer at Lily Pond Luxury. “I earn commissions from hotels and partners I book on behalf of my clients, as well as planning fees for complex itineraries. The travel itself is research, essential to doing my job well.”

If you’re interested in becoming a travel advisor, she recommends treating the work “as a business, not a hobby.” “The most successful travel advisors aren’t just well-traveled—they’re excellent listeners, strong operators, and deeply curious. Learn how hotels actually work, understand contracts and margins, and build genuine relationships across the industry,” she says. “And most importantly, develop a point of view. Clients don’t need more options—they need confidence in a recommendation.”

Can you imagine this job?

Publicist
You can be a publicist or a public relations specialist and get paid to travel, even without working directly in the travel industry. In this field, you’ll be responsible for managing a client’s (or multiple clients’) media presence and public image, which can often result in flying around the world for events or meetings. “As a publicist working across industries, I get paid to travel for clients for many different reasons,” shares Tracy Lamourie, listing speaking engagements, film festivals, launch parties, and industry events.

Unsurprisingly, a PR role requires lots of face-to-face contact. “My best advice for someone wanting to do what I do is be very social in real life, not just on platforms,” she says. “Essentially, PR is presentation, understanding human nature, and being the person people come to when things go wrong. Excellent communication, stability, being unflappable in crisis, and being unimpressed by fame are all essential job tools.”

Consultant
There are all types of consultants, from HR and marketing to legal and financial. Their role is typically to advise clients on specific issues under a short-term contract. Depending on the exact type of consulting you go into (and the company you work for), you could find yourself traveling on a monthly, weekly, or even daily basis to client sites. Many consultants, for example, spend long stretches in the air and staying in hotels—the ideal role for someone who wants to rack up airline miles and hotel points.

Flight Crew
As a flight attendant or a pilot, you’ll spend your days in the air, flying from city to city. Both roles require training; to fly a commercial plane, you’ll need 1,500 hours of experience, and flight attendant training typically takes between six and eight weeks. Once you’ve officially landed your role, though, expect long days (and nights) and relatively rough schedules. Don’t let that dissuade you, though; there are a handful of travel benefits, including free flights, that come with the territory.

Ship Crew
Maybe you’re more interested in traveling by sea than by air. If that’s the case, you may want to consider a maritime career. Ships come in all sizes—luxury yachts, holiday cruises, mega-ships, etc.—and they all require a crew of hardworking people to properly (and safely) operate them. Some roles are more front-facing, such as entertainers or servers on a cruise ship. Others are more behind-the-scenes; stewards and engineers may have less interaction with customers or clients. No matter which direction you choose, plan on signing weeks- or months-long contracts.

Photographer
Creativity and freedom go hand in hand in the life of a professional photographer, whether they specialize in weddings, landscapes, or wildlife. Lisa Michele Burns, a photographer and the founder of The Wandering Lens, for example, focuses on “luxury lodges, remote regions, and outdoor adventures.” But, she says, “As a travel photographer, the projects and client requirements are always so varied, which keeps things exciting, creatively inspiring, and unpredictable. One project could be to photograph an image library that showcases the activities, scenery, design, and decor of a beautiful hotel, while another job could see me underwater photographing marine life and coral restoration projects.”

It’s definitely a competitive business, but there are a few things you can do to find success and make sure your work stands out. “Diversity is key as a travel photographer, and you don’t want to rely on a single income stream, so it’s essential to build a network of clients in your chosen industry, in addition to creating additional avenues like selling prints or licensing your work,” says Burns. “I’d also recommend avoiding the comparison trap, particularly in a world of social media and endless content. Stay curious, creative, and explore a career on your own terms by following the locations and subjects you’re drawn to photograph, then finding the clients that align with this direction.”

Videographer
Like a photographer, a videographer can be flown around the world to capture dynamic, beautiful content—everything from nature to weddings. Kaitlyn Holeman, a videographer and photographer at Skyewater Photo + Film, specializes in “adventure elopement and small weddings.”

“The packages I create for each couple are fully customizable, and I wrap all my own travel costs into the price upfront, which potential clients really appreciate,” she says. “Having traveled to a variety of places including the Pacific Northwest, California, Colorado, Vermont, Alaska, Mexico, Greece, and The Bahamas, I already know the estimate of my flights, lodging, meals, and other transportation costs for travel to each region, so I can account for all of that without having to add on any surprise fees later in the planning process.”

If wedding videography piques your interest, she has one major piece of advice. “Dedicate time to travel to a couple of top chosen destinations for weddings to build content and real firsthand experience in the places you want to work,” she says. “Clients love being able to work with someone who’s at least been to the destination they want to get married in. Knowing exactly how easy or difficult certain places are to access or when is the best time of year to visit certain destinations helps show expertise.”

Travel Nurse
As a travel nurse, you’ll fill temporary positions in hospitals, clinics, and other healthcare facilities in destinations across the country—and even around the world. Karen O’Donnell Fountain, a Fastaff ER nurse and director of clinical services, says she usually accepts short-term assignments (between eight and 13 weeks). “I complete the same core clinical work as staff nurses, but I’m stepping into new environments regularly, so adaptability is a big part of the job. One contract I might be working in a busy urban Level 1 trauma center, and the next I could be in a rural hospital that serves a tight-knit community,” she explains. This type of role, she adds, allows her to “travel, do the work I love, and get paid well for my skills.”

“Facilities pay a competitive wage to secure an experienced nurse for a short-term assignment. My compensation usually includes an hourly wage plus tax-free stipends for housing, meals, and incidentals, as long as I’m working away from my permanent home and duplicating expenses,” she says. “Sometimes housing is arranged for me; other times I receive a stipend and choose my own place. Travel costs may also be reimbursed. An agency typically handles contracts, pay structure, and logistics, which makes the process smoother.”

Au Pair or Nanny
A role as an au pair or nanny isn’t just a job; it’s a full cultural immersion. “When I was in my early 20s, I had an urge to get out and see the world, but I didn’t have the budget. This led me to researching all of the ways I could make a little money abroad. One of those was through being an au pair,” says Sarah Pardi, a former au pair and the current global head of travel content at Insurte. “I learned that most au pair positions are in exchange for room and board, plus a stipend, but it varies depending on the country and its local laws. I also learned that visas are required, but many countries have specific ‘au pair visas’ designed exactly for these purposes.” There are all kinds of sites and agencies designed to match potential au pairs with families, and Pardi notes it’s paramount to do your research and only work with the most reputable sources.

Content Creator
The jobs of content creators and influencers are constantly shifting depending on their social media platforms and niche. When you see these public figures on the go, they may be getting paid by a larger brand—like a hotel, tourism board, or airline—or they’re creating content that will eventually earn them money. YouTubers, for instance, are typically paid ad revenue based on engagement and views. To become a fully independent content creator, you’ll need to focus on consistency and find a subject that resonates with an audience.

Scientist or Researcher
Creatives aren’t the only ones who can get paid to travel. Those with more analytical minds—namely biologists, geologists, ecologists, and anthropologists—often conduct fieldwork as part of their research. Sometimes, it does require finding (and applying for) grants to fund the travel itself, but there are also roles funded through universities or private companies. Your work could bring you to some of the world’s most far-flung and isolated places; Antarctica, for instance, is home to many year-round research stations.

Foreign Service Officer
If you plan to study global policy or foreign affairs in college—or have recently completed a degree—a career as a U.S. Foreign Service Officer (FSO) or diplomat may be in your future. The U.S. government notes there are five career tracks: economic officers, consular officers, management officers, political officers, and public diplomacy officers. Your exact assignment and placement will depend on your skills and the government’s interests and goals.”

Hopefully, for those of you who would consider working while traveling, even if none of these suggestions feel like the right fit, they may still spark ideas of your own, ideas better aligned with your unique skills, interests, and curiosities. Sometimes inspiration doesn’t arrive as a perfect solution but as a gentle nudge, encouraging you to think differently about what might be possible beyond the familiar boundaries of traditional work.

We’ve learned along the way that the path rarely looks the same for everyone. What works beautifully for one person may feel entirely wrong for another, and that’s part of the adventure. The value lies in staying open, in allowing new concepts to simmer, evolve, and eventually take a shape that feels authentic to you.

If nothing else, perhaps this serves as a reminder that alternatives do exist, even if they’re not immediately obvious. With a bit of creativity and courage, new doors have a way of opening when you least expect them. Thanks so much for stopping by and sharing a moment of your day with us.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, February 1, 2016:

This beautiful church in New Plymouth, New Zealand, was being demolished because it wasn’t earthquake-proof. For the story and more photos, please click here.

Starting to think about leaving New Zealand…

It’s ironic how cattle and other farm animals tend to hang out together.

Note: Due to WiFi issues, our paragraph spacing is impossible to change.

With only twelve days left until February 12, the calendar has begun to inch closer to our departure. The date sits there reminding us that we will soon be heading back to Auckland, New Zealand, only to turn around and fly onward to Hobart, Tasmania. As always, when a stay begins to wind down, we find ourselves doing mental inventories. Not of memories, though those matter deeply, but of food. How much do we have left? How many meals can we stretch from what remains? Can we make it to departure day without one last grocery run?

This ritual has become part of our departure process after so many years of moving from one place to another on this long and winding journey around the world. Each holiday home brings the same quiet calculations to a close. Jars opened and half used. Freezers peered into with hope. Shelves are examined with creativity rather than desire. This time, the stakes feel slightly higher because the grocery stores are far away, and the drive is long enough to make us both pause before heading out. We would much rather stay put, savoring the final days, than spend hours in the car for a handful of items we might be able to do without.
Based on what we have counted so far, it looks promising. We should be able to make it through without another trip. Mostly. The only snag is that Tom runs out of rice tomorrow. Rice has been his dependable side dish, accompanying every meal I prepare. Without it, there is nothing obvious waiting in the pantry to take its place. I have already begun thinking creatively, wondering what might step in without disrupting our carefully settled routine.
It’s ironic how they all hang out within close proximity to one another.

We stopped eating salads some time ago, and I miss them. Tom, not so much. They seemed innocent enough, but they quietly stalled our weight loss, and we are too close to our goals to ignore that. We have stayed committed to our intermittent fasting plan, with one healthy, nutritious meal each day. It has brought a simplicity that we both appreciate. Tom is now within 5 pounds (2.3 kilograms) of his goal weight. I am within 10 pounds (4.5 kilograms) of my goal weight. For the first time in years, we are both on track to return to the weight we were when we first began our travels in 2012.

There is something deeply satisfying about that realization. We are still losing about one pound, or half a kilogram, each week, steady and calm. It feels sustainable, not rushed. Especially after the last cruise, where we both indulged far too freely. We gained more than we wanted to admit at the time, but now it is all gone, gone, gone. That chapter feels closed.

On our upcoming cruise, returning to Royal Caribbean’s Voyager of the Seas in April, we intend to be far more mindful. This may well be the last time we sail on a large ship. With nearly four thousand passengers, it has become a breeding ground for illness, and we are tired of paying that price. In Tasmania, we plan to visit a doctor to secure enough Tamiflu to carry us through the twenty-five-night journey. From then on, we have decided that only smaller ships will do, seven hundred passengers or fewer. When we sailed on Azamara in 2023 with around six hundred passengers, we never got sick. That experience, along with getting so sick on the recent 47-night journey, changed how we think about cruising.

This peacock and his mate visit almost daily.

Today, though, none of that feels urgent. It is warm and sunny, one of those days that invites an easy day rather than a lot of planning. We will enjoy it fully by stepping outside often and watching for any visiting farm animals or wandering wildlife. These quiet moments, surrounded by sunlight and simple routines, feel just as meaningful as the miles we continue to travel.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, January 30, 2016:

It’s hard to believe how these young alpacas have quickly adjusted to our presence on the alpaca farm in New Zealand. For more photos, please click here.

The Māori culture in New Zealand…

Traditional Māori meeting house near Oakura Beach. Visit this site for more information.

Note: All photos posted today were taken during our 2016 trip to New Zealand. See the post here.

Visiting New Zealand today, it is impossible not to feel the living presence of Māori culture woven into daily life. It is there in the greetings we hear at the supermarket, in the place names that roll off the tongue like poetry, and in the quiet respect shown before meetings, ceremonies, and shared moments. Māori are not a people of the past here. They are very much of the present, carrying ancient roots while navigating a modern world with resilience, creativity, and great pride.

Māori are the tangata whenua, the people of the land, whose ancestors arrived in Aotearoa centuries ago by ocean-going waka, guided by stars, currents, and an intimate understanding of nature. That connection to the land remains central today. Even in cities, many Māori speak of whenua with the tenderness one might reserve for a family member. Land is not something owned in the Western sense but something that holds identity, ancestry, and responsibility. This worldview continues to shape how many Māori approach environmental care, community life, and decision-making in contemporary New Zealand.

In everyday interactions, te reo Māori is increasingly heard and seen. For many years, the language was suppressed, and generations grew up discouraged from speaking it. Today, there is a strong and hopeful revival. Māori language classes are popular among Māori and non-Māori alike. Television, radio, and schools embrace te reo, and bilingual signs are common. Hearing a simple kia ora offered with warmth feels like an invitation rather than a formality, a small reminder that language carries spirit and belonging.

The Māori had set up tents for a special event.

Current-day Māori life is diverse. Some live in rural communities closely tied to ancestral lands and marae, while others thrive in cities, balancing careers, families, and cultural obligations. There is no single Māori experience. Many Māori work as artists, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, and activists, while others focus on preserving traditional knowledge through carving, weaving, kapa haka, and oral history. What often unites these varied paths is the importance of whānau. Family extends beyond the nuclear household to include grandparents, cousins, and community, creating a strong network of care and responsibility.

The marae remains a powerful anchor in Māori life. Even for those who live far away, returning to the marae for gatherings, funerals, weddings, and celebrations is deeply significant. Stepping onto a marae, as shown in the main photo above, is an act of respect and humility, where protocol matters, and stories are shared across generations. In a fast-paced world, the marae offers a place to slow down, to listen, and to remember who you are and where you come from.

Māori today also stand at the forefront of conversations about justice, equity, and the country’s future. The Treaty of Waitangi, signed in the nineteenth century, remains central to national dialogue. Many Māori continue to seek recognition, restitution, and partnership promised in that document. These discussions are not just political. They are personal, tied to histories of loss and resilience. At the same time, there is a growing sense that these conversations are shaping a more honest and inclusive national identity.

What feels especially striking is how Māori values resonate in uncertain times. Concepts like manaakitanga, caring for others, and kaitiakitanga, guardianship of the environment, feel deeply relevant in a world facing climate change and social fragmentation. Māori leaders, elders, and youth alike often speak about thinking seven generations ahead, a perspective that gently challenges the short-term thinking so common elsewhere.

As travelers, we sense that learning about Māori culture is not about ticking off experiences or performances. It is about listening, observing, and approaching with humility. The stories are layered, sometimes painful, often inspiring, and always alive. Current-day Māori people are not frozen in tradition nor separated from it. They move between worlds with grace, carrying ancestral knowledge while shaping new futures.

In Aotearoa today, Māori culture feels like a steady heartbeat beneath the surface of daily life. Sometimes it is loud and celebratory, other times quiet and grounding. But it is always present, reminding us that this land has memory, that people endure, and that identity is something lived, not just remembered.

We hope our readers have found this topic interesting.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, January 29, 2016:

Many place names and signs are based on the indigenous inhabitants of New Zealand, the Māori, whose language has had official language status, with the right to use it in legal settings such as in court, since the Māori Language Act 1987. There are around 70,000 native speakers of Māori out of a population of over 500,000 Māori people, with 161,000 of the country’s 4 million residents claiming conversational ability in Māori.” For more photos, please click here.