[And this weeks theme was leaving…]
Eeeeh lass s’a tough move for a norverner.
OK lets can the ersatz flat cap and whippet accent. But it’s still a tough move to make. I’ve lived in this city for over 30 years now. It became the childhood home that was displaced by a succession of air force bases. I can’t say I’ve always loved it, but it has had its charms. The largest village in the country. Sounds idyllic doesn’t it? Well I suppose the green bits are nice but its parochial nature does grate after a while. And it’s that parochial nature that finally got the better of me. It’s a city that looks back to its past not to its future. If it’s not coal or steel then it’s to be viewed with suspicion. And coal or steel never did it for me. I was always chasing the next new thing rather than longing for the past so me and this city are just not a good fit anymore. They say you have to close the door on one thing before you can open another and this particular door is the front door to the first house I owned. All that time I spent turning a repossessed shell into a home and now I have to leave it behind. What’s it going to be now? Probably a musty stopping point on the way up the ever more treacherous property ladder. And the open door? Well that’s onto a world paved with fumes, eye-watering property prices and that mythical and endangered species – the lesser spotted job. Oh well downwards and southwards.