After the Second World War when my husband left the air force we talked of his experiences and he said he had met many men and talked to them about their homeland. The men and the stories that he most enjoyed were from New Zealanders. From this conversation came thought of emigration.

We read avidly to learn about life in N.Z. and we felt that our two children would benefit very much in the beautiful country that we heard offered a much more relaxed and healthful environment.

So in early 1949 we called on Thomas Cooke the travel agents, only to be told that the possibility of getting a ship booking was most unlikely. However, we could put our names down and wait – if we thought that was worthwhile.

This we did and from them on we called on the travel agents regularly every week. One day we visited friends and talked about our long wait. Our friend Bert looked surprised and said, “Oh I didn’t think you were seriously thinking of leaving – so many talk about it, but I haven’t heard of anyone actually prepared to go! However I can pull strings and get you away in a week!” We couldn’t believe it, but he duly rang us in a few days giving us the name of a ship we could leave on and said, “I’m sure that Thomas Cooke could do this too if they wanted – it’s a matter of their priorities.”

My husband felt that as we had made weekly visits to the Thomas Cooke office for more than a year, he should call and tell them our news. Bert agreed and said, “They may even offer you a booking – so give it a go!” He was right. My husband was asked how did we get the booking but he said, “That is beside the point – you can take us off your list.” The agent said he would phone the London office – please wait. The answer came – yes, they could book us on a ship – I forget the ship’s name - but it was an old ship.

We knew that a new ship the “Himalaya” was soon to return from its maiden voyage and we said, “We will go on the Himalaya or take us off your list.” The agent was astonished and said that would be impossible but we were adamant and eventually after a week’s delay we were booked on the ship of our choice.

At that time work in England was difficult to obtain, but my husband’s job had been kept for him and we felt very secure. Friends and relatives were always reminding us what a big risk we were taking, especially as we knew so little about New Zealand. What would we do if Alf couldn’t find work?
Another big problem was leaving my parents. My mother’s health had never been good and quite often when my father felt unable to look after Mum, he would bring her to stay with us until she improved. How would they manage if we were not there?

A remark made by my sister was a great help. She said, “Your duty is to go with Alf and the children and, if necessary, I will do what I can for Mum and Dad.” Still I was in conflict and thought Mum would be very upset with the news. To my surprise she took it very well, so well in fact that I wondered whether she really understood because her thinking did get very muddled at times.

On the day we left we all did our best to keep our emotions from surfacing. It was very sad and Mum asked Alf, “Please send Win home for a trip to see us as soon as you can.”

I was deeply upset and felt guilty and selfish, and my stomach was churning. My parents were not able to come to see the ship sail and the last time I saw them was at their garden gate bravely waving us ‘God speed’. Friends gathered at the dockside and many tears were shed.

Bert remarked, “I really didn’t think you would go – I have heard many friends talking to going, but none have actually gone. Good Luck! I wish I had the courage to pack up and go!”

After twenty years living in N.Z. we did return for a visit and this same friend said, “I wish I had followed your example – you certainly did know what you were doing.”

My mother spent some years in a nursing home and sadly I never did see her again.