{"id":210,"date":"2020-02-02T12:01:10","date_gmt":"2020-02-01T23:01:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vernreeverealestate.co.nz\/blog\/?p=210"},"modified":"2020-02-02T12:03:31","modified_gmt":"2020-02-01T23:03:31","slug":"tuakau-where-everybody-knows-your-name","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vernreeverealestate.co.nz\/blog\/tuakau-where-everybody-knows-your-name\/","title":{"rendered":"Tuakau – where everybody knows your name"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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I came across this news item some weeks ago and it stuck in my mind as an anecdote on the connectiveness of small communities all around the world in the age of so-called global village.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

‘A letter with a hand-drawn map in place of a written-out address was mailed to a farm in Hvammseit, West Iceland. Not only did it get processed through the mail system, it was successfully delivered to the correct address! This incredible feat of postal service consisted of an envelope labeled with the country, city name, and the line \u201cA horse farm with an Icelandic\/Danish couple and 3 kids and a lot of sheep.\u201d In case there were several farms which fit this description, the envelope sender included an extra piece of recipient identification: \u201cThe Danish woman works in a supermarket in B\u00fa\u00f0ardalur.\u201d What looks like an accompanying illustration is a street map of the intended delivery address, complete with a diagram of the nearby lake, names of crossroads, and a big red dot, marking the farm as \u201chere.\u201d The letter was mailed by a group of tourists in Reykjav\u00edk who had visited the farm, owned by the Holar family, earlier in the year. Unsure of the farm\u2019s address, the tourists made use of their drawing skills and left the best clues they could for the postman to solve. And they did\u2014thus proving that perhaps \u201canything is possible in Iceland.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

source; https:\/\/mymodernmet.com<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Loughgall, County Armagh<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

What also stuck in my mind was the experience of a former associate of our office, who after the passing away of her father Ariel, wrote a letter to her father’s cousin Betty in Northern Ireland informing her of Ariel’s passing, at the time unaware that Betty herself was no longer in her mortal coil. The letter passed through many hands on its way to a local postie in a small town in County Armagh who new of Betty and knew that she was no longer living, but who also just happened to be good friends with the her son and was able to deliver the letter safely into his hands. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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George Street, Tuakau circa 1970s<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Would that happen in the big smoke? Unlikely. All giving rise to the wonderful notion of living in a community where practically everyone knows you or knows of you…cue music to ‘Cheers’<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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