Yes, we moved from New Zealand to Zimbabwe.
It’s not completely random. I’m a Kiwi girl who grew up on the far off shores of Ivory Coast, West Africa.
Will (the hubby) grew up in Gutu, a little farming town in the heart of Zimbabwe.
Like Lizzie and Mr Bennett, we met a few years ago in cold-hearted indifference. After all, we had both been advised against each other by our respective friends (Emily Mclean and Rachel Langton, who shall remain nameless). But then Will started talking politics and business, and I started talking growing grass (legally), and that was it.
How could anyone not fall in love over those topics? (To see the wedding pics, check out Ivoryandgoldphotography.blogspot.com)
Fast forward to our first year of marriage, with both of us standing in the sunlit kitchen at Blueberry Cottage, our first home. Will had just asked me if I would ever consider moving to Zimbabwe.
And I had just said yes.
When little Kepler came along, I started to wonder what I was getting myself into. How could I take my little man away from his entire family – aunties and uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents and great-aunties or great-uncles on BOTH sides of the family?
The problem was Will. He is very convincing, and it just so happened that a fantastic job came up running a new-build lodge at Victoria Falls – one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Besides that, I have a slightly adventurous side that refuses to remain contained.
After a visit to the town, meetings with the other business partners (in a private plane, dangled perilously over the vast stretch of national park known as Hwange, on the borders of which dear Cecil the lion lost his life), we were in.
Thus began the scary, hilarious, adventurous, strange tale of the Zambezi Kiwi, the Kiwi living in Zimbabwe.