Many people
flock to Wiltshire to experience the countryside and the history, the
picturesque villages that film and TV producers salivate over. They picnic on
the Salisbury Plain or the Marlborough Downs, sip tea in “Larkrise” or “Candleford”,
a weekend break from the hub bub of city life.
I left Wiltshire at 18 and moved to Hampshire.
Again, another beautiful part of Britain, I lived not far from the New Forest,
but Hampshire was far too populated for me, so again I moved. This time to
Somerset; yet another rural county, yet another setting for the latest period
drama. So now I live amongst the famous folk… the drummer from that indie band, the fashion designer
for that famous store, even Hollywood
stars have second (third, fourth…) homes here. All drawn by the voluptuous
rolling Mendip Hills, pretty villages and “hip” towns. But still I am not
satisfied.
I have no
reason to want to leave. I have a lovely stone cottage that backs onto a river
with views over the trees and fields. My cottage is in a pretty village, with
wonderful people, many of whom have become very good friends, and of course my amazing friends and
family live near by, and they are just the best. Getting to my children’s school is
like a trip to Neverland; down a steep hill, down to twisty roads with high hedges, past a waterfall, then the manor
house, that has a helicopter in the garden! There are Guinea fowl and ducks that
aimlessly wander, trespassing onto well-manicured lawns, chickens peck and scratch, only disturbed by the collared doves and I
am not even exaggerating! As you would expect all the cottages in the village have roses
growing around the door in summer and daffodils and snow drops line the road
side verges in spring. The school itself is a tiny Victorian building, only 40 pupils, who play in the shade of a huge Hornbeam tree.
Many people dream to have what I have, so why
would anyone in their right mind want to leave? This is why I decided to write this blog, to help friends and family understand my reasons for wanting to move. It is not
about them, I will miss them It is not about the house, the village, the
school, money or employment. It is just simply that, since I was 18 I have
wanted to live in Scotland, by the sea.
It is hard
to explain the pull that you get to a place that you have no family connection
to. However I will try…
I have always felt a need to be by the sea, even as a
teenager. At weekends my mate and I would drive (well she would drive as I
hadn’t passed my test by then) down to Swanage and paddle in the sea, watch the
sun go down, eat fish and chips and drive home before the 11pm curfew! When most 17 year olds were
drinking Mad Dog 2020 on the street corner or shagging each other, we drove to
the coast! Then at 18 she and I went for a week’s holiday in Edinburgh and that
is when it all started for me… My love affair with the Scotland and its coastline.
To be
honest, it can be any beach, not just a Scottish one, but when I stand on the
beach and breathe in the sea air, all my worries and stresses disappear. It
doesn’t matter if the sea is summer holiday, ice cream and deckchair calm, or a
raging tempest of wild untameable power, the effect of just being there is the
same. I think my children feel it too. Occasionally in the midst of winter they
will ask to go to the beach. When you ask why, after all it isn’t really “beach
weather”, they will say “I just want to go. We can take our wellies and a
picnic and wrap up warm”! Quite right to!
The same is
true for Scotland itself. When the M6 becomes the M74 I feel myself relax and
my mood lightens, I drink in the scenery and imagine what my life would be
living in that cottage, or the farm
house over there. However, on the
return journey at the same point of the motorway, I start to feel quite sad. I
find myself twisting round and staring sadly at the Welcome to Scotland sign on
the North bound carriage way, whilst trying to avoid looking at the Welcome to
England sign – stupid I know!
Whenever there is a period of upheaval in my
life, I plan my escape. My cottage by the sea or on the edge of a sea loch. I
will spend my days watching the wildlife through binoculars or shell seeking on
the beach with the kids, and my evenings will be spent sat by the fire listening to
wind, drinking whisky. A romantic dream, I know! But now this dream is one step
closer to happening, and very soon, all being well, our Awfully Big Orkney
Adventure will be a reality…
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