Thirteen hectares of hillside forestry, two roads they cut themselves, and a question about insurance that decided the whole thing.A tiny home built to still work in twenty years, ordered by a couple in their retirement and project-managed by their son.

A tiny home built to still work in twenty years, ordered by a couple in their retirement and project-managed by their son.

They ordered a house on the other side of the world, watched it get built through weekly photographs, flew in as it was being finished, and moved straight into it.

Five days from the first phone call to a signed contract. Then, halfway through the build, they handed over the keys to their family home.

They came to us because they wanted to walk through a tiny home before they bought one. We could not find them one to walk through. Today theirs is the home we take other people to see.

Murray could not afford to buy a property. He did not need to. What he needed was somebody willing to lease him a corner of theirs, and the way he got it was by writing a short introduction about himself.

The home was never the hard part. The hard part was a paper road, a district plan, and a set of rules almost nobody knows how to read.

Trish did not choose a design. She drew one, and then spent eighteen months making us build it properly.

Jean ordered her home before she had anywhere to put it. Most people do it the other way round, and most people wait longer because of it.

Some journeys are short. This one took four and a half years, and almost all of it was spent looking for somewhere to put the home.

Megan didn't email us to buy a tiny home. She emailed to ask whether the council would let her have one.

Keri signed her contract eleven days after she first emailed us. Her home arrived eighteen months later, and almost none of that wait was ours.