Hello, Somerset

I wanted to write this on the train back from London, as it felt more poetic that way, but there was a man next to me doing work that looked far more important than online journalling, followed by a lady who was eating her packed lunch. All far too distracting for my far-too-distractible mind. So here I am, at home in Somerset after carting my suitcase up a path with fields on either side and views of rolling hills- the new commute. 

It’s been around two weeks since we moved home to Somerset after 13 years in London. I won’t dwell on that too much, I don’t like goodbyes. But it’s not really a goodbye, I’ve already been back for work and can thankfully hop on a train whenever a fix is required. Not wanting to get emotional about it meant zero fanfare, no “final” meals at favourite restaurants, no rush to see friends before moving away- London will always be there, and I’ll always be ready to catch a train. 

The only thing we did get our fill of before leaving was Deliveroo, which I’ll admit, was my number one apprehension when thinking about moving away. It’s extremely easy to become reliant on the conveniences of city life. I kept telling myself that all that was required was a little more planning- that and becoming a far better chef. Watch this space 20.10.2022