Tara Ward watches the return of Moving Houses.
Seasons change, flowers bloom and bath water grows cold, but one thing never alters: the pulling power of a house on the back of a truck. Moving Houses returned to TVNZ for its third season on Sunday night, and with it a brand new host, former All Black turned landscaper turned TV-presenter-in-a-bathtub Andy Ellis. He continues the long, great tradition of former All Blacks becoming TV hosts, and as far as Moving Houses drama goes, Ellis is immediately up to his nipples in it.
Season three kicked off with an absolute doozy: moving a brand new house from Timaru to a property deep in Central Otago, some 330 kilometres away. Homeowners Mark and Anthony bought their historic Nevis Valley gold miner’s cottage sight unseen, and the road to their property is the highest public road in the country, climbing to 1300 metres above sea level. This house shift won’t be easy, but that doesn’t stop Ellis from climbing onto a rocky outcrop and leaning into the Nevis Valley wind, excitement gushing from every pore.
What a vibe. He’s just a boy, standing in front of a nation, asking a house on the back of a truck to love him.
“What a crazy place to bring a house,” Ellis tells us, but he’s loving every moment of this batshit plan. It cost Mark and Anthony $400,000 to add this extension, so before we get to the good stuff – wheels and axles and so on – there’s some chit-chat about the new building itself. It has high pitched ceilings and double glazed windows, and will be linked to the historic cottage by a jazzy corridor. Blah blah blah, whatever. Bring on the hydraulics! Show me some tight bends!!!!! I’m grunting here!!!!!!!
Ellis, too, is fizzing. He’s bouncier than a Twizel power line in a midnight gale, climbing under the truck and announcing things like “there’s a problem!” Some might think that could be annoying or distracting, but not Timaru truck driver Scott Dickie. He’s the unassuming legend who’s about to drive a house hundreds of kilometres across several mountain ranges like it’s no big deal. Ellis may be freaking out about the challenges that lie ahead, but Dickie could not be more chill.
Ellis asks Dickie if he’s got any worries about the job. “It’s not too bad, mate,” Dickie says. Does Dickie know about the snow forecast for the Nevis? “I heard a rumour,” Dickie replies. Surely he must be worried about these wintery conditions, Ellis continues, desperate for a bone. This isn’t Dickie’s first rodeo. “I might get some longer shorts out, maybe.”
Unusually for Moving Houses, most of this move takes place during the day, so we’re treated to some spectacular Te Waipounamu scenery. Trucks and roads have never looked so good as Ellis and Dickie drive carefully through the Mackenzie Country, over the Lindis Pass and beyond Lake Dunstan to the beginning of the Nevis Valley. The house tickles power lines and dodges speeding drivers (“too much gel in that fella’s hair”, Dickie’s colleague says of one hoon), while Ellis sits in the passenger seat and helpfully reminds Dickie not to get too close to the edge. “How did you meet your partner?” he asks Dickie at one point. “Driving trucks,” Dickie replies.
It’s in the Nevis that things get deliciously tense, as Dickie navigates 40 tonnes of house and trailer up steep inclines and around hairpin bends. The house tips and sways on the gravel road like a boat at sea. If the truck slows on the hills, they’ll lose traction. Then, according to Dickie’s erudite summation, “we’re in the shit.”
Moving Houses is one of those shows that shouldn’t be anywhere near as good as it is. Essentially, it’s a show about trucks driving very slowly. But it also has all the hallmarks of gripping TV: suspense, danger, risk and reward, as well as genuine New Zealand characters. There’s a reassuring comfort in its predictability (every episode: house goes on truck, house hits power lines, house arrives safely), but there’s also unlimited potential for chaos. It speaks to New Zealand’s adventurous, ingenious heart, and resonates with our desire to have a home of our own, even if it is in one of the remotest parts of the country.
And as Dickie and Ellis crawl across the last bridge to reach Mark and Anthony’s place, it’s hard not to climb onto a big rocky outcrop and celebrate with them. Two weeks later, Ellis – probably still sweating over the hairpin turn where some of Dickie’s truck wheels actually dangled over the valley – arrives to see the completed home. It’s a triumphant return, mostly because finally he gets to enjoy an outdoor bath. “I could get pretty used to this,” Ellis sighs happily. Me too, Moving Houses. Me too.