Friends, family and those of you that follow me on Instagram wouldn’t have failed to notice we (the husband and I) have moved to Cornwall. After taking forever to plan, it ended up happening very fast, so much so that we’re still trying to wrap our heads around it. I’ve been waiting so long to write this post, I can’t believe I’m finally about to hit publish. I’ve started it over and over again in my head, before shelving it because, well I didn’t want to jinx it!
As a kid growing up I’ve spent many a summer holiday in Cornwall. First with my parents and sisters, then with aunts, uncles and cousins. Later as an adult, with my husband and friends. Over the past 30 odd years, Cornwall has been the backdrop to my life. Each year returning changed. Older. Wiser. Cornwall has held a special place in our hearts for a long long time. We even spent our honeymoon in Mevagissey. When we got home from traveling 7 years ago (be still my acheing heart!) we always talked about moving abroad or elsewhere in the UK. In late 2018 we started seriously discussing moving to New Zealand. I know! We’d originally set our sights on New Zealand after doing a fair bit of travelling there over the years, both as skint backpackers, and then with paid holiday. We began going to Down Under expos and looking into visas. After much research, it became clear that it wasn’t going to be straight forward or within any reasonable timeframe. Without a trade or work experience listed on the Skills Shortage List, combined with both being over 30 years of age, that put us pretty low on the eligibility list for red carpet admission. Much to the relief of my family, we moved our search nearer to home and started looking at the southwest, landing on a small town in North Cornwall.
Last month, I finally left a career I’ve worked at for over a decade. I’ve worked with some fantastic people and experienced a lot – some good and.. some not so good. It’s a daunting time for sure, but if lockdown has taught me anything, it’s that this is something I should have done a long time ago. No more pointless meetings, I won’t have to commute, I won’t have to be nice to people I want to punch. Although I will still have to be nice to people I want to punch. We all have to do that in polite society. I won’t have a regular wage though, I won’t have a work pension, I won’t have job stability but you know what? I’m so happy. I’ve done my time working for someone else. Time to be my own boss. I realised I don’t enjoy what I do and crave something creative, something more aligned to my values, which my career hasn’t been. My husband has been a huge source of inspiration to me – he left a long career in the police to start up a business on his own and he is kicking ass. So now it’s time too for me to do the same and find something I love to do, and do it for me.
6 months ago it sounded pretty crazy to tell friends that we were packing up our life and moving across the country into a rental in the middle of a pandemic. We put our house on the market in the summer, and accepted an offer at asking price to ensure a quick sale. We had hoped to complete within 6 weeks however COVID had other plans. Despite only our property in the chain, it took 16 weeks from listing on Rightmove to completion. Staff shortages because of the furlough scheme, combined with an unprecedented number of house moves in the market, meant slow response times and what felt like never-ending searches. It came as a surprise when the call finally came to comfirm completion for the following Friday. Cue frantic calls to removal firms.
I don’t think anyone who knows us will find it any surprise that we did finally decide to move, although we’ve talked about it for so long that any casual observer could have been forgiven for thinking we might never actually get around to it. We had to wait until we had our contract for our new house (renting!) and things were 100% happening. It is a massive step and, of course, there are some down-sides, like being miles away from the people we love, but sometimes you have to try something new. It is only Cornwall, not the other side of the world after all and, if the roles were reversed, I would encourage anyone I know – family or friends, to do the same.
So here we are, 3 weeks in. We’re finally unpacked, the Christmas tree is up, the bar is stocked and it feels like home. I’m sure there are plenty of questions to answer, so if you have any, holla at me in the comments.