Philip and Jackie Dring had not been planning a move to Kerikeri because they had three children scattered across the country and, like many Aucklanders, had assumed they would remain where they were and orbit around family as needed.
“The nice thing about living in Kerikeri,” Philip says now, “is that we decided we’d go where we want to live, and visit them any time. There’s always a risk your children move for their careers, and you end up staying somewhere that no longer suits you.”
The shift began almost casually. A university friend from South Africa had settled at Quail Ridge Country Club, and when Philip and Jackie were in the area, they dropped in to see them.
“We were actually thinking about where we might move within Auckland,” Jackie says. “Then we saw their place and realised we don’t have to stay in Auckland.”
What struck them first was not a sales pitch, but proportion. “The size of the homes, the space between them, the location,” Philip says, “it felt very different.”
They had seen other villages. Philip had even ferried retirees from various complexes and could not help comparing. “We couldn’t believe the difference between those units and what was on offer at Quail Ridge. The spaciousness between the dwellings is generous. We look straight onto DOC forest.”
They were clear about what they wanted. “We said we wanted a three-bedroom, double garage,” Jackie says. “We’d been around the more commercial retirement options in Kerikeri and they weren’t a patch on Quail Ridge.”
Visiting other villages became part of their due diligence. “It confirmed we’d made the right choice,” Philip says.
Friends were sceptical at first. “Some of our friends are very active and mobile,” Jackie says. “When we told them we were looking at a retirement village, they were surprised.”
“We say it’s a country club, not a retirement village,” says Philip. “When they come and look, they can’t believe the features and the benefits.”
The idea of leaving Auckland was not about retreating but about reframing. “We were in urban, central Auckland,” Jackie says. “There was no space for the campervan, and we spent all our time getting somewhere.”
The more they considered it, the more logical it became. “If we’re moving to a new area,” Philip says, “why don’t we do it now, properly, and do it once?”
That decision was informed by experience. “We helped our parents through three different moves in retirement,” Jackie says. “It was tough, so we didn’t want to do that. We wanted to get in early, do it once, and not worry.”
They signed at a stage when earthworks had not yet begun. “It was pre-build, Stage Five,” Philip says. “It hadn’t even started, which gave us an opportunity to shape it.”
They had specific requirements. “We’ve got a 6.5 metre surf ski,” Philip says. “So they extended the garage for us.”
They spent eighteen months in temporary accommodation within the village while their home was completed. “By the time we moved in, we’d had a say in the paint, the fixtures, the finishes,” Jackie says. “We chose the section, the house, the interior. Other places prescribe what you’ll get. Slight variations, but all the same. All vanilla. Here it was different.”
Freedom and flexibility mattered. They opted for campervan parking on site, something Philip notes is “not something most villages offer.”
They travel extensively, both within New Zealand and overseas. “We’re only in the village part of the year,” Jackie says. “We go south in the campervan, kayaking in Abel Tasman, we cycle wherever we can find a cycle route.
The house, maintained and secure, allows that mobility. “All the freedom and time to play,” Philip says, “with none of the worries of operating your own property.”
Life within the village is active but not prescribed. Philip says. “We’re active outside the village as well as in it.” They both play bowls, and there is model yacht racing, darts, a knitting and crafts group where, Jackie says, “eighty per cent might knit two rows, and the rest is catching up on what’s happening.”
There are Friday socials, wine groups, cuisine evenings, a writers’ group. “There isn’t a typical day,” Philip says. “You can be involved as much as you want, or step out. There’s no pressure.”
What surprised them was the depth of connection. “We hadn’t expected that everybody is free to do things together,” Jackie says. “Go to movies, offer lifts. If you’re unwell, somebody will lend a hand.” For those without children nearby, she adds, “this is where they can find family.”
The physical environment reinforces that sense of ease. They swim regularly at the aquatic centre. “It’s fantastic,” Philip says. “Pool, saunas, showers. We do our lengths and get that level of activity as well.”
The gardening team manage the grounds. “They’re helpful and knowledgeable,” Jackie says. “They create and build an environment around your home. You don’t have to do it.”
Kerikeri itself is part of the equation. “There’s an airport here,” Philip says, almost as a practical footnote. “It makes travel easy.”
The golf club, church community, local events all feed into daily life. “Kerikeri suits our lifestyle and provides our lifestyle,” Jackie says.
There have been small moments that confirmed their choice. Philip recalls a resident’s registration plate – JHB TVL (Johannesburg, Transvaal (now Gauteng), where Philip is from) – that sparked conversation on arrival. “It’s a silly little thing,” he says, “but it got involvement going.” They fitted in more easily than expected. “That surprised us in a positive way,” Jackie says.
Five years on, their assessment is measured. “It’s provided everything we wanted,” Philip says. “We couldn’t wish for a better place.”
Management, they say, has been responsive. “If there’s a problem, it’s dealt with swiftly,” Jackie says. “You’re not fobbed off and not forgotten.”
The move, which once seemed a departure, now feels like consolidation. “I never thought retirement or being older would be so much fun,” Jackie says.
Philip nods. “We realised we didn’t have to stay where we were. We could choose the place that matched how we actually live.”
For them, that choice was not about stepping back. It was about stepping into a version of life that still accommodates kayaks, campervans, overseas flights, bowls afternoons, and the quiet reassurance that this move, made early and made once, was the right one.
