In just under two months, the hubby and I will loading up the pick-up truck with a few belongings and our four cats and heading over the channel in search of a quieter life.
By this point, the rest of our most-prized possessions will be in long-term storage and the house that we have lovingly spent the last five years renovating will be in the hands of new owners – or at least that’s what we hope will be the case. There is every chance that the buyers will change their mind or something will happen so we have all fingers and toes crossed that everything goes through ok. Otherwise the hubby and I will find ourselves living in an empty house with our belongings in another country, feeling very depressed indeed.
Reaction to our move has been mixed. Most people get it and are excited (perhaps a tad envious) for us and our attempt to “live the dream”. Others look at us in confusion – “why France?”, they say.
Why not France? Beautiful countryside, affordable property prices, great food and wine, and easy access back to the UK for business meetings and family visits. And the opportunity to learn another language fluently (this will be a big tick of the list of things to do before I die).
We are fortunate that both our careers mean we can work from pretty much anywhere. The hubby is a plumber and gas engineer so constantly in demand, and as long as I have a laptop and internet connection I can continue my quest for world domination 🙂
I do love London. I love the buzz and the excitement and the fact you can do whatever you want when you want. But that in itself is the reason why we need to get out of here. It never stops. Running a busy and growing business is hard enough. Doing it in this city where it is impossible to switch off makes it even harder. I need time to think. To recharge. To be.
A desire for some quiet therefore is one of the many drivers behind this decision. I can’t wait to be able to sit in my office with the window open and hear birds rather than sirens or blokes fighting in the street after having one too many pints. And to be able to step out my front door into the countryside rather than having to negotiate drug dealing, prostitution and traffic… Who could say no to that?