On the journey home from Cornwall a few weeks ago, I was determined to be positive and happily reflect on an amazing holiday.
By the time we reached Devon my resolve vanished. We stopped for coffee at the services and whilst standing in the queue, the floodgates opened. I couldn’t speak for the lump in my throat and the usually enticing cake display blurred behind a sea of tears.
I probably sound like an ungrateful child who cries at the end of the party because they don’t want to go home. But those who love surfing and being by the coast, especially the ones inland will understand how gut wrenching it is to leave it all behind. To return to landlockedsville when you don’t know when the next surf will be is like being a fish plucked out of water.
It was the last straw and the final push I needed. I didn’t want to leave it all behind again.
Actions speak louder..
I have lost count of the times over the years that I have said ‘I want to move to the south west.’ It was never with any real conviction until late last year ahead of a new year surf trip to Devon. I wanted to start 2015 in the place I meant to finish it and I told a few people this, but this time I meant it. I wasn’t sure how it was going to happen, I just knew deep down that somehow it would.
There were a few things that hinged on the big move that needed to slot into place first. I had to be patient and bide my time. The biggest factor was undoubtedly my job.
At the beginning of the year I only had a few months left on my contract but then I was given another 12 months. I’m lucky enough to work from home with one day a week travel to the office in Bristol, so there’s no reason why home had to be landlockedsville. I spoke to my boss about the idea of the south west being home instead and he was incredibly supportive and excited for me. Green light!
We ummed and ahhed over North Devon for a while but Cornwall stole our hearts years ago and our amazing week reminded us of that. We have friends there, the job prospects seem better for Ste and the surf spots of Devon will be a mere hour away if we want them.
It’s finally happening!
On the day we arrived back from Cornwall, a letter in the post I had been waiting months for arrived which spelt the final piece of the puzzle. We took it as a sign. 3 days later our house went on the market and within a week it sold.
It’s all seems a bit too good to be true and I’m wondering where the catch is. Everything seems to be slotting into place a bit too easily – first time buyers (who want to be in by Christmas), no chain, a place already sorted for us to rent down there. Call me cynical but dreams aren’t supposed to happen this easily are they? Unless maybe this really is our time and fate is smiling on us.
In between the fear, sadness and guilt at leaving family and friends behind is excitement at the prospect of a new life by the coast. After a few false starts stalled primarily by fear, this time just feels right. Yes I’m scared, I have never lived anywhere else in my life so this is a big move but I’m 100% sure we are doing the right doing.
This could be the best and only opportunity we get and I don’t want to look back and wished we had done it. I don’t want fear to rule my life.
Our time in landlockedsville is done. It’s time to follow our hearts and embrace the dream.