If you can imagine balancing on a bridge ready to bungy jump at the point of no return, that’s how it felt for me when I made the decision to leave Jersey permanently three years ago.

There was a liquorice all-sorts mixture of emotions: a sweet taste of excitement, trepidation of the unknown, sad farewells, but conversely, the anticipation of a new region to explore. And it was New Zealand, The Land of the Long White Cloud, perched on the edge of the World, which granted me a Permanent Residence Visa and enabled me to buy a one-way ticket to a new life.

When I was approached to write this article, I dithered. Although I have appeared on television and radio, in those days I was imparting news, now I was being asked to talk about myself, to impart my private thoughts and to be judged on my comments and decisions. I may be accused of romanticising the immigration process but I hope that sticking my head above the parapet explains why I escaped my homeland for a different future.

No one makes the decision to leave their home country lightly. There has to be a strong force to move away from creature comforts, familiar sights and sounds, and to cut the physical ties with family and long-term friendships. However, the negative force which acted as the catalyst for change for me was the ever-increasing feeling that I was losing ownership of Jersey.

I was born and raised in the Island, a place of which I had always been so proud, and which had served my ancestors so well for more than two hundred years. This sense of loss of ownership was overwhelming, as increasingly through the years I witnessed green fields and unique coastline being sold to the developers.

Historical landmarks like Elizabeth Castle, a majestic sight in the middle of the bay, became compromised in scale when aligned with reclamation on the waterfront. The consequence of progress allowed many of Jersey’s architectural charms to become demolition sites. To me Jersey not only seemed to be losing its beauty spots but also its soul and its cultural identity.

My partner, Dr Peter Smart, was equally disappointed at the changing face of the Island he had grown to love so much. But let this not be interpreted as an essay on sour grapes. For us it was really a quality of life issue to change this stalemate situation. We realised here was an opportunity – the chance to take life into our own hands or to struggle with discontentment. We chose what we perceived the more difficult route – a life elsewhere.

Choosing our final destination as émigrés involved more than a map of the World and a prick of a pin. It also needed a calculator as we based our decision on a mathematical equation.

This involved working out the size of population relative to the available area of land. In other words we were looking for wide open spaces and a sense of freedom. New Zealand matched our needs as it is comparable in size to Great Britain but it has relatively few people.

The important calculation was that the population density per square mile is over 47 times greater in Jersey than it is in New Zealand. These figures are based on Jersey’s most recent census figures of 2001, and New Zealand’s estimated resident population figures which are updated approximately every 11 minutes. Getting away from the crowds in NZ would never present a problem.

Also on our wish list for our new country were friendly people. On a previous holiday to New Zealand we had noticed that Kiwis tend to be easy going and hospitable.

They are self-reliant and humble with not a hint of arrogance or self promotion about them and consequently there is very little sign of a social class system. They really mean it when they say “G’day” and ask you how your day has been.

New Zealand had a special appeal because of its nature, its geography, its weather patterns and its clean air. The tourist brochures spell out its diverse landscapes with glaciers, pristine lakes, rivers, snow topped alpine peaks, volcanoes, geysers, bush, exotic birds and whales, but we wondered what further marvels we would discover in our own time without the constraints of just being holidaymakers.

We read about the importance of wildlife conservation on its land and we were also impressed by the Country’s strict immigration policy. The “Country of Choice” barometer was beginning to measure very high. After completing our research Peter and I applied to the New Zealand Embassy. Following rigorous vetting we were granted permanent residency in November 2004 and crossed the border to our adopted Country in January 2005.

In this latest chapter of our lives we are absorbing a new culture. The soaking up and savouring includes understanding the country’s political landscape and its relationship with other islands in the Antipodes. A vibrant café atmosphere brings us in touch with the locals for lively conversation over flat whites (white coffees).

We are embracing the differences in living here. After all, the seasons are back to front, there are extremes of weather when all four seasons can be experienced in 24 hours, and ideally one chooses to buy a north facing property. There is also the amusing confusion with the time difference when I ring my family in Jersey in the morning and they are still living in yesterday.

The relaxed attitude and accessibility of politicians is a continual surprise to us. A couple of years ago we met the Prime Minister of New Zealand., Helen Clark, over a cup of tea at a political function in the village, and recently Peter had a chat with John Key, the Leader of the Opposition Party, at an agricultural fair.

During our search for a property to buy we have discovered a shining example of New Zealand ingenuity. It is a unique way of moving house – Kiwi style. New Zealanders have an old tradition that enables them to move their home from one location to another. It is an extraordinary spectacle.

The house which is made of wood and is likely to be up to 100 years old is sliced into a number of sections and moved by enormous trailer by road in the middle of the night from one site to another. The house jigsaw is then glued and nailed back together again on its new site and may be up for a makeover with rewiring and re-plumbing if it has seen better days.

This original idea had a certain appeal to us but we eventually found a vintage property already in situ on the side of an extinct volcanic crater on Banks Peninsula. This Peninsula in South Island was named after Joseph Banks, a botanist, and one of Captain Cook’s team, whose ship sailed past our doorstep nearly 240 years ago.

We live in an Edwardian villa made of wooden weatherboards with a wrap around veranda and an amazing vista across the sea which forms a natural protected harbour. Under New Zealand law you can marry almost anywhere you like, so our home was the perfect spot for our wedding.

Historically Banks Peninsula is of great interest to us. Both Captain Robert Falcon Scott and Sir Ernest Shackleton chose the port of Lyttleton (an hour’s drive away) as their base before embarking on their exploration of Antarctica.

Emigration has added a new dimension to our lives. It has injected a sense of adventure and after three years of living here it continues to be an invigorating experience.

We are both retired and our lifestyle includes spending time tramping (hiking) in the mountains. We feel privileged that the World Heritage Site of Mount Cook is within a day’s drive of home and is situated in our Province of Canterbury.

It is very much an outdoor lifestyle. We cherish the ability to travel distances locally without expensive air fares. We can carve a trail through the dramatic scenery of gorges, creeks and massive waterfalls and traverse the rugged territory of mountain ranges or we can laze in our kayaks and reminisce about the wild north coastline of Jersey, one of our few former retreats which remain unchanged.

We are learning the rudiments of sheep farming. We own three woolly, cute ewes who act as both pets and handy lawn mowers for the paddocks. Native bellbirds, kingfishers and Kereru, (a large plump, tame pigeon), visit the garden regularly and it is home to wild hares. We listen to the drone of cicadas and enjoy picking our home grown grapefruits, peaches, lemons and grapes.

We are getting used to the gentle shudder of the occasional earthquake, after all we live pretty close to a fault-line, the Alpine Fault, which cuts across the length of South Island and makes the land unstable. The Ministry of Civil Defence and Emergency Management recommends an earthquake survival kit for every household and we have one packed in readiness for the Big One.

The late Sir Edmund Hillary, New Zealand’s greatest icon, explorer and mountaineer, lived by the motto ‘Be Determined, Aim High’. This sums up the way we see this young country and its vision for the future. Its pioneering European immigrants only arrived here in the 19th century but we hope that in the generations to come this lonely jewel in the ocean will continue to grow and prosper but not at the expense of its unique beauty, wildness and heritage; that it will seek to stem the tide of coastal development and will be ready to listen to is citizens and their aspirations for its future.

I have to pinch myself for a reality check but, yes, I am living my dream in this vibrant South Pacific Nation with a corner in my heart left for the memories of the Channel Island I loved in my childhood, teens and 20s. Those roots are well trodden into Jersey’s soil.

• Pictures at Jackie’s wedding