Article
A thank you to Ackama for 1,000 days of remote work
I have been slowly working my way through thank-you cards for friends and family. They are, without question, shockingly late.
While writing them, I realised there was one more thank you card that was well overdue. A thank you to Ackama, and to the people who have shaped a company that genuinely supports flexible, remote work.

1,000 days, 89 kitchens, and a lot of tongs
On 12 March, we completed our experiment of “seeing more of Australia and New Zealand through remote work and housesitting.” The logic was sound: Australia is a big place, and four weeks of annual leave doesn’t get you very far into it.
The experiment concluded with a rather poetic 1,000 days on the road. In that time, we completed 35 house sits, lived in 89 different “homes” across 2 countries and 5 Australian states, enjoyed 1 sighting of Aurora Australis, looked after 161 animals, and drove approximately 32,000 kilometres, all while working full-time at Ackama.
It sounds a little ridiculous written down like that. There were a lot of unfamiliar kitchens, a surprising number of TV remotes that nearly defeated two people who work in IT, and plenty of opportunities to learn that people collect interesting things — why does any one kitchen need 13 pairs of tongs?
The bit you can’t put in a spreadsheet
But the real magic wasn’t in the data points of homes and pets cared for. It was in the stuff you can’t put in a spreadsheet (a slightly uncomfortable admission from a Project Manager): the freedom of time, the borderline-unreasonable generosity of complete strangers, and the ability to go pretty much anywhere.
We didn’t just tick towns off a list, we actually lived in places we’d never have chosen for a holiday, long enough to get properly attached to them. And it meant we could spend real, unhurried time with family back in NZ, the kind you can’t buy with a rushed annual-leave trip.
Turns out what remote work actually gave us wasn’t the travel. It was time, and a fairly thorough recalibration of how kind people are.

Family, unrushed
Just this last summer we spent four months in New Zealand, moving between New Plymouth, Wellington, Raglan and Mount Maunganui. We had quality time with my family, a full family Christmas with an Italian theme, and plenty of time with my partner’s four kids and grandson, making some amazing memories.
It wasn’t a rushed visit where every meal needs booking in advance and everyone is squeezing time around life, work, illness and other commitments. We could be in town for a while. We could say, “Hey, we’re around, want to catch up?” And if someone was busy, that was fine too, we’d either be there longer, or coming back soon.
That kind of ordinary, flexible time with people you love is a very special thing.
Letting Thor decide
House-sitting was the pathway that made all this possible, and it came with an unexpected gift: being repeatedly humbled by the kindness of people who had, until then, been complete strangers.
We often joked that we would “let Thor decide” where we went next. A house sit would come up nowhere near our imagined route, but it looked interesting, so we’d apply and see what happened. This was an interesting stretch for someone whose job is to plan, reduce and manage risk, but somewhere around house sit number ten, I realised the risk register had quietly been replaced by a Norse god with questionable judgement.
That’s how we ended up in Tongala or “Tongy,” as it’s known locally. The homeowners were lovely and happy for us to arrive a few days early. They let us borrow their cars. Their neighbours were friendly, helpful and welcoming. And each morning, two cats, two dogs and a horse would follow us around the farm like a slightly chaotic little parade.
It was never somewhere we would have planned to go. It became one of those places we’ll remember.
Over and over, people welcomed us into their homes and trusted us with the animals they love most. We met people who were generous with their time, their stories, their cars, their local knowledge and at one vineyard very generous with their wine. It’s reset the way I see the world, a little. People are, overwhelmingly, kind.

The trust that makes it work
Remote work does require trust. It requires communication, good planning, and people being responsible for the work they’ve committed to. But when a company gets that balance right, it can create opportunities that go far beyond simply working somewhere other than an office.
It can help people stay closer to family. It can make room for a different kind of life. It can mean meeting colleagues in person. And it can take two relatively introverted people, three suitcases, and an ever-changing collection of pets, to corners of Australia and New Zealand they would have never otherwise seen.
So, thank you to Ackama for the trust and flexibility that made this possible.
And to anyone working somewhere that offers this kind of opportunity: take it, if you can. It may feel a little scary. It may require more flexibility than you think you have. You may find yourself trying to work out a new dishwasher, a gas-powered car, or why a horse has decided it’s part of your morning walking group.
It is, without question, very worth it.