And we’re off! Previewing this season on The Block NZ

Tonight, four enthusiastic New Zealand couples begin their journey along the giblined highway to renovation glory. Tara Ward on what to look forward to in this season of The Block NZ.

That’s right, our favourite reality show The Block NZ is back to suck us into its murky depths, and I’m more excited than Ling and Zing when they folded their toilet paper into a tiny triangle.

I’ll be recapping four and a half glorious hours of The Block NZ every week, until Peter Wolfkamp builds me an MDF coffin and launches me directly into Hobsonville Point’s foggy swamp of broken dreams. I am putty in The Block’s hands, I am putty in The Block’s bathrooms, I am literally watching paint dry so you don’t have to. You’re welcome, New Zealand.

So, what can we expect from season seven of The Block NZ, other than a dodgy Dinner Wars challenge, a crapload of painting, and several letterboxes made out of iceblock sticks? Who are this year’s lucky Blockheads? And why is The Wolf so grumpy in the promo ad? Perhaps he’s jealous of Agni’s incredible hair hat. Me too.

To discover what lies ahead on our intrepid voyage into reno paradise, I’ve scoured the depths of The Block NZ promos like an out of control belt sander running rampant over a wooden floor. Life’s a garden, so let’s chuck some rose petals on our rhombus daybed and take a wobbly stumble along the wooden plank of dreams that is The Block NZ 2018.

Look Who’s Back

Say no more.

Mark ‘Richie Rich’ Richardson in the flesh.

Where the hell are we anyway?  

Let’s get straight to the point, Hobsonville Point. Legend tells me it’s located somewhere between Ferndale and Erinsborough. It’s hard to gauge what Hobsonville Point’s vibe is, but the promos suggest it’s a magical land of tiny shrubbery and wide footpaths, with an exciting foggy swamp. Forget #BornToBuild, I am #BornToBog!

But what about the contestants?

Claire and Agni, gym junkies from Hamilton

It’s gym/personal trainer power couple Claire and Agni.

I can feel the tangerine energy of Claire and Agni breathing life into my decrepit old bones already. Claire is a personal trainer and Agni owns a gym, so they’ll have the stamina to pull consecutive all-nighters and still win a million ridiculous challenges that have sweet FA to do with selling a house. If that doesn’t set your heart racing like you’ve done five long seconds on the stepper machine, then please hide yourself behind a schist wall of shame for the next fourteen weeks.

Ben and Tom, best mates from Auckland

But who is Ben and who is Tom?

Which is which? We’ll never know the true identities of these BFFs, but one’s a project manager and the other’s an architect and I bet they’ve got colour coded spreadsheets coming out the wazoo. Can they match a grey duvet with an oversized botanical print, though? It’s a question for the ages and I can’t wait to see what these two do with a thousand cushions covered in macramé doilies.

Bless their wee hearts, these “young guns” could be the sons I’ve never had. Adopt me, Ben and/or Tom, so that I can turn up in Week 7 with a casserole to tell you how proud you’ve made me. Let me be your mother butterfly and you can be the wind beneath my wings. Seems a fair trade, imo.

Amy and Stu, partners from Gisborne

Geriatrics Amy and Stu.

At the ripe old ages of 39 and 46, Amy and Stu are “the oldest couple in Block history”. But let’s back the Zimmer frame up and tell Antiques Roadshow to stand down, because 39 is not old, kids. 39 is sweet. It’s the best age I’ve ever known and I will not hear such vicious slander against 39. Sure, 46 is different matter, but 39 IS FINE, EVERYONE.

I mean, if you don’t get to your forties without slaying your ‘air guitar on a spirit level’ game like Amy and Stu, then what the hell have you done with your life?

Chlo and Em, BFFs from Palmerston North

Finger-gunning for the competition!

Gather all ye double pointed hand gestures, ye lazy shakas and ye neon artworks shaped like a giant palm, because best mates Chlo and Em are bloody stoked to be on The Block NZ.  Tradies get the ladies” are their first words, and as far as game plans go this is either 100% genius or 100% terrifying.

But tactics, schmactics. If you need me I’ll be busy bottling Chlo and Em’s enthusiasm, covering it in three layers of semi-gloss and selling it to the highest bidder at a live TV auction. Straight to the point: welcome back, The Block NZ.


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