Finally, after years and years of saying that I am going to leave London, I am leaving London. I realised the other day that I used to talk about leaving London with my last boyfriend - that's the one I split up from in the mid-90s... You see, I really have been meaning to make this move for a long long long time. Don't get me wrong. There are lots of wonderful things about London - I couldn't have stayed here seventeen years if I didn't like it. But I grew up in a small market town in Northumberland, far from the over-crowded south-east of England, and sometimes I miss hills, a lack of queues, no traffic on the roads, fresh air, fresher produce, consonants.
So where are we off to? The Brecon Beacons. Crickhowell specifically which I visited for the first time a couple of weeks ago. That makes this sound deeply spontaneous and sudden, but actually Tom's already been, and my cousins have rather conveniently been test-driving the Beacons for a couple of years now, and if they like it I'm pretty sure I will.
The next couple of months will be taken up with organising the move, decluttering on a big scale and getting there. Oh and the cat needs neutering. So lots to do although I think I'll leave the last one to the vet.
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