Seven years ago I moved from Auckland to Oamaru, buying a large, historic, twostoreyed, Oamaru-stone home, high on South Hill with panoramic views from the west, through the north to the southeast.
The house had been built for a wealthy Oamaru businessman around 1880, but he, Oamaru and most of the rest of the world got caught up in a messy financial melt-down around 1890; his business failed, so he sold up and moved to Wellington. There he died, alone, in a Wellington hotel room.
The house, with grand gardens and a tennis court, was bought by the Roman Catholic Church for their local bishop and later by the Anglican Church for their local church leader. Around 1920 it was bought by a local businesswoman who extended the already large…
