7 minute read
The Last Church in Āpiti
In the small rural village of Āpiti, in the Manawatū, husband and wife Jemma and Alexander Robertson have breathed new life into a former Sunday school and church by turning it into their first home. With years of history ingrained in its walls, the couple have added another chapter to its existence by embarking on its restoration. Jemma shares, in her own words, their experience.
Editorial: Jemma Robertson (née Brackebush) / Photos: Alexander Robertson
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It was a drizzly winter’s day when we first laid eyes on the wildly overgrown grounds that houses Āpiti’s former Presbyterian Church and Sunday School. The church was hidden from the road behind a thick, unruly wall of holly, barberry and other nasty weeds-turned-towering-trees that were the remnants of years of untamed growth, while the lawn was up to our knees.
The owner had never lived there, but told us where the key was kept and we let ourselves in to explore. Inside was like stepping back in time. The church was decommissioned around 20 years ago when the former owner bought it – it became a storage place for church organs - and with its purchase ended the weekly church gatherings. The basic kitchen resembled a backcountry hut with a single wooden benchtop, simple cupboards and a small wood burner. The matai flooring was wellworn, the rimu windows were crying out for love and the pinex walls in pastel shades of lemon, green and purple, were covered in pinholes where posters had once blanketed them. Inside the church the pews were stacked upright against the walls and birds’ nests were spilling from the top. It was rugged, raw and enchanting.
When we first began our house hunt, we had not envisioned living rurally. We had recently moved back to New Zealand after living in New York and Colorado, where I was working as a journalist and my husband Alex as a videographer. We became ‘flatmates’ with Alex’s parents in Palmerston North so we could save for our first home. A few months’ deep in the property hunt, we were unsuccessful on the handful of offers we had made in the city, which in hindsight was a blessing, because we became the proud new owners of the church in December 2018.
Āpiti is nestled at the base of the Ruahine Ranges in northern Manawatū, 50 minutes from Palmerston North. From Kimbolton you drop into a valley and wind your way through scenic farmland until you pop out on the Āpiti flats. It was settled in the 1880s and today the village’s population is just over 200, surrounded by sheep, beef and dairy farms. The area is also significant to us because Alex’s family have a sixth-generation farm in Rangiwahia, 15 minutes up the road. It is a stunning, largely undiscovered part of true rural New Zealand that is ripe for exploring if you love the great outdoors and mountainous country, without the crowds. We are adament it is one of the country’s best kept secrets.
Our journey began on December 14 when we took ownership on a crisp, clear bluesky day. The fat brown skinks who were basking in the sun scattered in all directions as we arrived, having long been undisturbed by anyone. At the time we didn’t own any furniture, so we didn’t have much to move in. We set up camp on foam mattresses in the Sunday school lounge, used a gas cooker to make meals, and started to make sense of this historic purchase we had committed to. Following the Christmas break that year, we became ‘weekend warriors’, ticking off most of the major renovation projects by ourselves while working full time in Palmerston North. We re-connected the abandoned water well that had not been used for more than
20 years (we call it our delicious artesian ‘holy water’), insulated the floor and roof, re-wired the house, installed a large wood burner fire, restored the windows (breaking seven panes), painted the inside of the Sunday school and the church roof, and the list goes on. One weekend we removed two 10-tonne truck loads of green waste to reveal the church again from the road.
Fast forward 18 months to today, and bright white walls house eclectic pieces of art we have collected or been gifted over the years. Indoor plants dominate the large Sunday school room-turned-living room. Our bed frame, kitchen shelves and bathroom vanity were handcrafted by our dear family friend, Don Tantrum using timber from his farm in Taihape and most other pieces of furniture are a result of a successful lunchtime shop at the Salvation Army. Our bathroom design was inspired by Pinterest and pulled off by our brother-in-law plumber who is able to turn most of our visions into reality (most guests need a briefing on how to work the shower, though). Nothing matches and yet it all fits together perfectly.
With the Sunday school renovations coming to an end, we are turning our focus to the last church in Āpiti, opened in 1902, and contemplating how to preserve the building’s history while creating a unique space that has purpose in this day and age, whether it is accommodation or events. Alex is a big picture thinker and refers to himself as a ‘visionary’, which at times has led to some heated discussions of, “Let’s be realistic” on my behalf; but he’s the hardest worker I know and I love working together on a project like this. I must also mention the incredible family we have who have lent helping hands. At times, it’s felt like a community effort, with neighbors bringing us baking, lending us utes, tools and lawnmowers, making our curtains, egging us on. It has been a big and at times exhausting project, but it has been so satisfying and rewarding creating our home. Living in the country, you automatically switch off and relax the moment you drive towards the Ruahine Ranges and step in the door, and for that I feel very grateful.
Through the restoration and while living here, we are building our own memories in the place and giving this historic property a new chapter in its history. Most residents, past and present, have their own connections and memories of the church and Sunday school and I have loved learning about these. Our neighbour, Pat, 78, was married in the church in 1961 and on her property a Douglas fir tree towers over our boundary. It turns out that Alex’s tree-mad grandfather had given Pat’s son the seedling of the tree many years before, and today, we get to benefit from its shade and beauty on our back doorstep. We learned that a good family friend’s uncles’ funeral was one of the last to be held here and we have also met the man whose father milled the timber and built the Sunday school in the 40s. We feel a sense of responsibility and guardianship owning something that holds these memories and significance for so many people. Our door is always open, and it is a privilege when people stop by to have a look, reminisce and share stories about their time here.
Others have left more permanent signs: scribbled on the back of the native timber door in our kitchen there’s a love heart with ‘GB 75’ inside. I smile to myself each time I see it and often wonder who the artist is. It is just one of many personal touches in our home left by children who spent secret moments scribbling on the walls when the teachers were not looking. We have spent a fair amount of time scrubbing old pencil drawings off of our walls and floors, but I can’t quite bring myself to remove this one.
We had planned to travel to the United Kingdom and Europe in June and had trialled Airbnb as a way to keep the place used while we travelled overseas. People loved the space and we loved sharing it, but that idea is being parked while we remain in New Zealand. So, as the leaves change colour and winter signals its arrival, we are working out what project is coming next. We may not be sipping sangria in Spain come June, but we could be celebrating the New Zealand summer on our yet-to-be-built deck. There are almost always silver linings to whatever life throws our way. Watch this space.
This story was produced by Shepherdess magazine. For more stories like this, check out www.shepherdess.co.nz
