In a few weeks we will be homeless. I have no job and no possibility of doing my current work in our chosen destination. My wife is facing a 550 mile commute to work at our expense. Life has honestly never been better.
It’s difficult to convince myself that it has actually begun. Our lives are now changing in tangible ways from week to week, and we can now change too, without feeling guilty for leaving behind the habits of a lifetime. When we had put our London flat up for sale in October, at the end of the season and during daily headlines of house prices taking a double-dip, we had hoped it might sell before Christmas. On the first day it hit the market a newly-married couple who had been unsuccessfully searching for their first marital home for several months saw our flat. A week later, on the day they flew off on honeymoon, we happily accepted their offer. Happily? What an understatement! Woo-hoo!!! Solicitors were instructed. My wife began digging for information at work regarding working remotely, and I started turning down well paid contracts as an IT consultant.
Our dream seems quite common if you watch TV programs like Grand Designs and Escape To The Country. When we tell our friends all the changes that we hope to make, however, I find myself gulping only slightly less than they do. My wife and I have both done fairly well in our respective careers, and earn enough to never really worry about money. Great holiday destinations, nice car, new-build flat close to Wimbledon common, the odd bottle or three of champagne on a whim in the pub with friends. All the usual traits of a life in London really. And that’s the problem.
Samuel Johnson famously said when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. He was also famous for churning out quotations in a bid to make a name for himself in the ‘famous quotations’ stakes. He didn’t actually believe many of his own statements, and he was way off the mark with this particular one. In reality when a man is tired of London he is tired of spending 3 hours getting to work and back every day, on sweaty trains where his nose is three inches from a stranger’s runny, snuffling one, until he exits and transfers to a sweaty underground tube, at which point he has to shoulder-charge his way through the others on the platform competing to get on, and eventually wins himself a 30 minute session of stooping in a compartment surely made for pygmies. That’s if the entire tube network isn’t up the creek because of “one under” – a far too frequent occurrence, poor buggers. When a man is tired of London he is tired of buying a pint of beer and a glass of lime & soda, and receiving 25p change from a tenner. He is tired of having his full suspension mountain bike stolen from his home (twice). In essence, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of NOT HAVING a life.
Sorry about that venomous outpouring, but it felt great once I started letting it all out. I guess I really am overdue to leave the big smoke. After 18 years of doing a job I hate, a career change is now a must for me. My wife is younger, and certainly has a firmer grasp on her sanity than me, so whilst she too dreams of a new way of life she is going to try to keep her current job and work remotely… at least for the foreseeable future.
Speaking of those dreams, here’s a snapshot of what they entail:
- Moving to somewhere rural
- A view of mountains from our home
- Absolutely no road noise, plane noise, or unnatural noise of any nature. Infact, on an idyllic holiday once we were kept awake by sound of the idyllic surf breaking on the idyllic beach 20 yards away. It sounded like the bloomin' M25 motorway. So no noise at all please, natural or otherwise.
- A home with 4 bedrooms, a real fire, open plan rooms and, most of all, character. That could involve building a new one if necessary, but using reclaimed materials and techniques like stone and lime render.
- A home where our cats, Biggins and Lulu, can be let outside without fear of being squashed
- Two dogs
- Making a living in a way that we enjoy
Having grown up in a working class family, and subsequently through sheer graft attained a good middle class income, I know both sides of the fence and can say from experience that money really doesn’t buy happiness. My wife and I are happy together (infact, our wedding dance was to Happy Together by The Turtles) but we think our lives would be more contented with some of the above, despite probably having less money.
So let’s stop talking and start doing! And to kick off this lifestyle change…. What the hell, I’m growing a bloody beard. Stick that up yer backside, IT recruitment agencies!
