Ross and Pam Miller had already lived a few lives before they arrived at Quail Ridge Country Club.
Pam began her working life as a teacher in England before becoming a librarian. Ross served for 25 years as a regular army officer in the New Zealand army, with postings that took him around the world. He later moved into local government, retired as a chief executive, was headhunted to King’s College in Auckland, retired again, and then he and Pam bought a small farm in the Far North.
Even now, retirement hasn’t quite taken the shape some people might expect.
“The government keeps appointing me to positions.” Ross says.
As a member of the Ministry of Social Development's Benefit Review Committee, Ross attends hearings in person throughout Northland as well as virtual hearings from around New Zealand at home. He also holds a full judicial warrant as a Member of the Alcohol Regulatory & Licensing Authority and travels New Zealand for tribunal hearings.
It means life at Quail Ridge had to work for people who weren’t looking to step back from the world. Ross and Pam wanted a home that would make daily life easier, without making life smaller.
Before moving, they were living in Paihia in a house built across three levels, with 15 steps down a cliff face. It was a place they loved, but the physical demands were becoming harder to ignore.
“We needed to move, and we wanted to move in our time, rather than have it forced upon us.” Ross says.
That distinction was important because they weren’t looking for somewhere that felt like a retirement home. They wanted space, greenery, privacy and a home that still felt like theirs.
“We looked around from Breem Bay through Whangarei and Kerikeri. Quail Ridge stood out as meeting everything we were hoping for.” Ross says. “We set ourselves parameters. We wanted a high quality facility and a high quality home, and we got all of that with bells on.”
For Ross and Pam, the setting was part of the decision, but it was the feeling of the place that confirmed it. Quail Ridge didn’t feel hemmed in, and the homes had room around them. The outlook had softness and space, which meant the move didn’t feel like a retreat from ordinary life. This reduced the practical burden while their independence remained intact.
They now live in The Glen, some short distance from the community facilities, swimming pool and gymnasium. For Ross, that distance has become part of his routine rather than an inconvenience.
“It didn’t make sense to run the car a kilometre, so I bought myself a little motor scooter.” he says. “I zip up and down. I probably do six kilometres a day back and forwards to the gymnasium.”
That small detail says a lot about how Ross lives at Quail Ridge. He’s active, involved in his work, and still doing things his own way. The difference is that the setting now supports that independence, instead of making daily life harder than it needs to be.
Pam has also settled into the rhythm of the place. She does aqua aerobics, uses her treadmill and keeps fit. There are no stairs to climb and the house works around their lives instead of asking them to work around the house.
“The home is really high quality.” Ross says. “This place exceeded our expectations in every way.”
What also stood out was the way people responded when help was needed. When Ross bought his scooter, he didn’t want to ride it into Kerikeri for servicing. Quail Ridge’s head of maintenance offered to do it for him.
“You just don’t expect that,” Ross says. “That sums up the difference between other retirement villages and this one. They go the extra mile when they don’t have to.”
That same practical care showed up when they first moved in. Residents helped assemble furniture and Ross’s bike on the deck. Larger items were delivered for them. These weren’t grand gestures, but they changed the texture of the move, especially at a time when Pam had been in hospital.
On their second or third day, neighbours invited them over for a drink.
“It was a full spread, with gourmet food,” Ross says. “We’re lucky with our neighbours.”
Their neighbour is a former air force pilot, and his wife and Pam quickly got on well. The gentleman in front of them has also become part of the easy familiarity of the street.
“Sometimes you expect neighbours you don’t get on with,” Ross says. “But the people here are top notch.”
That friendliness has become part of daily life, without becoming an obligation. Ross still has work and travel. Pam has activities she enjoys. They can take part when they want to and keep their own rhythm when they don’t.
“There’s a fair bit of social stuff, and you can pick and choose,” Ross says. “I’m still pretty busy, and I do need to travel a bit, so I haven’t involved myself too much in the various activities.”
Pam has joined aqua aerobics, and the bowling green may tempt them in future. Golf is also likely to remain part of the picture.
The social life at Quail Ridge isn’t presented as something residents have to perform. It’s simply there. Coffee and cake mornings bring people together, with baking from other residents and, as Ross says, “a huge amount to choose from.” Fish and chips nights add another easy point of connection. When Pam walks the road, people wave.
“Everybody waves,” she says.
For people who have led full lives, that kind of atmosphere matters. It offers connection without pressure. It means you can be known without feeling managed. It allows privacy and sociability to sit beside each other, which was exactly what Ross and Pam were looking for when they began searching.
They had seen enough places to know the difference.
They didn’t want a retirement village that made them feel contained. They wanted Bay of Islands retirement living with enough room for their own routines, enough practical support to reduce the physical burden, and enough quality in the home to make the move feel worthwhile.
Quail Ridge gave them that.
Ross is still working, still travelling, still using his judgement in public service roles and still finding ways to move through the day on his own terms. Pam is active, settled and involved in the parts of community life that suit her. Their home gives them a simpler base without asking them to give up the life they’ve built.
For Ross and Pam, the move wasn’t about stepping away from independence, but about protecting it.
“We wanted somewhere that didn’t feel like a retirement home,” Ross says. “We wanted greenery, open spaces and privacy.”
At Quail Ridge Country Club in Kerikeri, they found a real home, a setting with room around it, and a community that lets them participate as much or as little as they choose.
