Why We Left Full Time Travel To Build A Slower Life In New Zealand

You would think travelling the world full time would make you never want to settle down again.

For a while, that was true.

For 3 1/2 years, our family travelled full time through different countries, living out of suitcases, booking Airbnbs, learning new routines and figuring life out one visa at a time.

Somewhere along the way, we also foster failed in Thailand and adopted two rescue cats, Biscuit and Snowball, who ended up becoming full blown international travellers themselves.

And honestly, we loved a lot of it.

We never stayed in tourist hotspots. We wanted to live where local people lived. We wanted normal supermarkets, local cafes, neighbourhood bakeries and boring everyday life. We wanted to learn languages, understand routines and experience what life actually felt like in another country beyond the travel brochures.

That part was magic.

But over time, the cracks started showing.

At first, they were small things.

The kitchen that was too tiny to cook properly in.
The bathroom layout that drove you insane.
Buying random household items over and over because every place lacked something different.
Researching the next country constantly.
Tracking visas.
Sorting transport.
Trying to make temporary places function like long term homes.

Then the bigger things started creeping in too.

The kids wanted normal life again.
Shane wanted to work.
Jasmine wanted school, routine and friends.
We wanted stability for the cats.
No more flights for them sounded pretty amazing, honestly.

The moment everything shifted happened one evening in the UK while we were sitting in our little three bedroom semi-detached house talking about where to go next.

South America came up.
Canada.
Mexico.

And then, almost jokingly at first, we started talking about what going home could actually look like.

No visas.
No moving every few months.
A stable home.
The kids settled.
The cats safe.
Our own routines again.

The more we talked about it, the more real it became.

Very fast.

There was no dramatic moment where we suddenly hated travel. It was more that our definition of a good life had quietly changed while we were busy living it.

Peace started sounding exciting.

Around that same time, things became complicated with the cats needing to leave the UK. Paul and Jasmine returned to New Zealand first while Shane and I stayed behind waiting for vaccination timeframes and paperwork to clear.

What was supposed to be two weeks turned into six.

Three different homes.
Two rental cars.
A lot of stress.
A lot of tears.

I never really felt homesick during our travels until then.

When half your family is on the other side of the world and all you want is to be together again, the novelty wears off pretty quickly.

We were never leaving without Biscuit and Snowball though. That was never negotiable.

Snowball became somewhat of an airport celebrity during that time. People constantly stopped to take photos of him because of his fluffy white coat, and almost everyone assumed he was a girl. He handled the attention beautifully.

Meanwhile, back in New Zealand, life slipped back into place surprisingly quickly once we returned.

Shane had a job within two weeks.
He bought a car.
Jasmine was enrolled at school with her uniform and books sorted.
We built the cats a huge catio which they now spend hours enjoying every day.

And for the first time in years, life felt steady again.

One thing people often assumed during our travels was that our rental property in New Zealand funded our lifestyle.

It didn’t.

In fact, we regularly topped it up ourselves.

What actually gave us the ability to travel was the online business Paul and I built together. Starting that business in 2019 turned out to be one of the best decisions we ever made. By 2022 it was fully sustaining itself, which was why travelling full time finally became possible.

I’m incredibly grateful for that.

That old house was beautiful too.
Four bedrooms.
Two bathrooms.
Heated floors.
Ducted heating.
A huge wood burner.
Snow capped mountain views in winter.
Friendly neighbours.
All the trimmings.

But even though it was lovely, it never felt like our forever place.

We wanted space.
Real space.

We wanted land.
Room for gardens.
Poly tunnels.
Solar.
Fruit trees.
Vegetables.
A slower and more sustainable life.

Most importantly, we wanted freedom from the rent and mortgage cycle.

Selling that house was emotional, but it gave us something even more valuable. The ability to buy land outright and build a home without taking on a mortgage.

That freedom means everything to us now.

And then we found the land.

Two hectares of rolling green hills with huge open skies and views stretching across grassy mountains. The neighbours are so far away you’d probably need to yell to get their attention.

The moment we stood on it, the possibilities felt endless.

I could already picture myself walking outside in the morning to pick herbs or vegetables for dinner. Paul was already talking about solar setups and plans for the future. The cats will finally have space and stability. Real stability.

For us, this next chapter isn’t about creating some perfect homestead fantasy.

It’s about building a peaceful life that genuinely sparks joy.

A life where the simple things matter again.

And that’s a big part of why I started The Homestead Letters.

The letters have become a way for me to document this entire journey as it unfolds. The exciting parts, the mistakes, the things we’re learning, family recipes, quiet moments and all the in-between pieces that don’t always fit into quick social media updates.

It’s a slower kind of storytelling.
One that arrives in your mailbox instead.

Looking back, I feel incredibly grateful.

Grateful for the years we spent travelling.
Grateful for the people we met along the way.
Grateful for the business that allowed us to experience it.
Grateful for two amazing kids who embraced this crazy adventure with us.
And deeply grateful for Paul, my best friend and partner in crime, who somehow always says yes to my wild ideas.

We’ve had quite the adventure already.

And I honestly think the next chapter might be the best one yet.