I’m back! And there’s lots to say

The Big Catch-Up Post

Did you miss me? Given how infrequent my posts had become, probably not. The truth is that it’s hard to summon up the creative energy to write for my own enjoyment when I spend all day every day copywriting for the corporate world. And it’s no exaggeration to say that through writing in umpteen different tones of voice for clients, I feel as though I’ve lost my own voice. But it’s high time I got it back, and reactivating my Substack is the first step. I hope you’ll stick with me as I potter my way back down a path I’ve really begun to miss. I’ve got lots to tell you about and I’m finally ready to talk about it!

I’ve left the Cotswolds

It might come as a surprise to those of you who know me as a country girl, but I’ve had a pretty major life overhaul and swapped rural lanes for urban streets. Leaving the Cotswolds behind was a huge decision that I mulled over for a good couple of years before taking the plunge. Charlbury in particular has long been somewhere I’ve associated with stability – a place where right from my very first visit I could feel myself sigh contentedly with relief as I stepped off the train.

After a stint living there in my early 20s, it was the place where I instinctively returned seeking the comfort of familiarity amidst the emotional and practical turmoil of divorce in my early 30s. A temporary move – which I thought might be for a year while I found my feet and got back on the property ladder by myself – turned into nearly six years of renting thanks to the unexpected pause button of the pandemic. And in that time, I began to question whether country life was really the right choice for someone living alone, and for me specifically.

It wasn’t just the pandemic that made me realise the lack of community I felt in Charlbury – it was simply a fact that, even after a combined ten years of living there, I still knew virtually nobody (and not for want of trying). I don’t doubt that there is some community spirit in Charlbury, but you have to know how to tap into it, or be in the right kind of circumstances. If you’re an elderly person who’s been there for decades, or if you’re a young family with children in the school, or even if you’re a couple without kids and at least have each other for company, you’ll do fine. But if you’re on your own, in my experience, you’re basically invisible and ignored. It’s an isolating experience (especially when you work from home alone), and although I did my best to mitigate this by driving to see friends and by joining a local club and a choir, I was left with the inescapable feeling that living in the countryside is for couples.

Add to that the increasingly absurd house prices in the Cotswolds – very much driven up by the pandemic and its resultant exodus from cities – and the fact that it had pretty much turned into vapid influencer central, and I was really starting to feel the need to be somewhere a bit more authentic. I just didn’t feel I belonged there anymore.

Searching for a sense of belonging

But where did I belong? To be honest, I still don’t know the answer to that; belonging is a deeply important concept for me and one I have struggled with my whole life for various reasons that I’ll maybe save for another day. But I knew my life needed a radical overhaul and that I needed to be somewhere a) completely different to my previous life and b) meaningful to me. It didn’t take long for my thoughts to turn to Bath, a city I’ve known my whole life having grown up near it, and objectively the most beautiful city in the world.

I’ve always said – in fact I think I even said it on my blog back in 2014 or thereabouts – that if I were to live in a city, it would be Bath. It’s a small, rural-feeling city, surrounded by countryside that’s visible from many of its gorgeous Georgian streets, so it wouldn’t be too much of a wrench leaving the bucolic Cotswolds. Yet there’s more than enough of a cultural scene to satisfy the most ardent bookworm, classical music lover and all-round nerd. Bath felt familiar enough from having known it for so long (my dad was a lecturer at the university for most of my life), yet the lifestyle would be so different from my Charlbury life that it would give me the shake-up I was looking for. The fact I didn’t really know anyone (except for my mum being half an hour away) was daunting, but not enough to dissuade me.

When I’ve made up my mind about something I can be pretty decisive. I booked to see eight different flats in two days in a variety of locations across Bath. Amidst a fairly depressing array of properties that looked much better in the photos than they did in real life, one caught my eye. It was what I’d like to think of as a ‘writer’s garret’ in the attic of a Georgian townhouse, centrally located, five minutes’ walk from, well, everything, with a view to die for. The parking situation would be a complete nightmare, but I’d manage that somehow. I didn’t need to see it a second time. I put an offer in, it was rejected; I put another offer in, it was accepted. It was really happening.

Uprooting

I had never bought a property on my own before, and I was glad to find that mortgage advisors, estate agents and solicitors just basically do it all for you (albeit at exorbitant cost). What should have been a straightforward, no-chain purchase took six months due to the complexities of leasehold properties, listed buildings and so forth; I’d made the offer in July, finally exchanged contracts in the run-up to Christmas, and completed in early January last year.

The sense of achievement I felt upon picking up the keys and walking up to my first flat of my very own quickly withered away when I walked in. Going from room to room, my heart sank. Had I been for a second, more objective viewing, I’d perhaps have noticed just how much work needed doing to it – the dire state of some of the carpets, the peeling woodchip wallpaper, the nasty makeshift built-in wardrobe, the rotting window ledges. It was just so shabby! I’d arranged the removal company for a week’s time, thinking I’d paint it myself within a week, but it was abundantly clear from that first day that it would be a lot more work than I could manage myself.

I’ll spare you the renovation saga, because it’s not really that interesting, but suffice it to say that it took two very competent chaps about three or four weeks and substantially more money than I’d planned on spending to get it to a state that I’d want to live in. But eventually the day came that I could finally move in, and after a great deal of stress and sleepless nights, I was able to uproot myself at last (with the immensely capable support of Charlbury’s House and Carriage, who I’d recommend to anyone).

And on my first morning waking up in my new home, in early March last year, it snowed. From my rear windows, I sipped my morning coffee looking out across all of Bath breathtakingly blanketed in white, and I knew I had made the right decision.

Later the same day, a seagull shat on me in town. I took it as a good omen.

The new normal

I’ve thrown myself into Bath life and I’ve surprised myself with how quickly I’ve settled in, having not lived in a city since university. Sure, it’s a bit noisier than Charlbury. But I’m loving having every conceivable cuisine within a short walk. Author events at the wonderful Topping & Co bookshop are a weekly fixture in my diary. I’ve done numerous walking tours to get to know my new home and its fascinating layered history (not just the Romans and Georgians!). I’ve rejoined the choir I was in as a teenager and sung concerts in Bath Abbey. When I’ve needed some countryside time, it’s a 10 or 15 minute walk out of the city and I’m there. While I had to get into the car every time I wanted to do something when I lived in Charlbury, I barely have to drive anywhere now.

It’s not all been plain sailing; weeks after I moved in some problem tenants moved into the flat directly below mine and made my home life a misery for a year (I’m currently awaiting their replacement with considerable trepidation). But on the whole it’s been so lovely to actually feel part of a community. I have some wonderful neighbours who’ve become good friends, joined a local gym, and through various other channels I’ve acquired lots of lovely friends and reached the point where I often bump into people I know when I’m out and about. I’m even on the committee of my local residents’ association!

In other news

This is getting long – well done if you’ve made it this far! Very briefly in other news:

• I’m now an aunt to a gorgeous little niece ♥️

• I’ve been down to Australia to visit her and can’t wait to do so again

• I’ve travelled lots – new countries including Australia, Malaysia, Singapore, Turkey, Estonia, Latvia, Malta and Cyprus, plus the usual trips to Italy and The Netherlands, a couple of work trips to the US, etc

• I’ve discovered the Lake District and am loving walking there when I can

• I’ve raised an abandoned baby seagull, which I named Scuttle

Sadly I’m not really flying anymore because the costs have risen to astronomical levels – unjustifiable when one has a mortgage and bills to cover single-handedly and the cost of living is insane. While it does make me sad not to be able to fly anymore, and life feels less adventurous than it once did, I actually don’t miss it as much as I thought I would. And my bank balance definitely isn’t sad about it! Maybe I’ll return to it one day if/when things are more financially stable or I can find a more affordable way to do it.

And finally

I’ve pondered over whether to write here or over on my original Cosy Life blog, whose artwork I absolutely adore and over which I have devoted so many hours over the years. But Substack feels right for today: not just because it’s the modern face of blogging, with the potential to tap into a bigger audience than my own small blog would, but because ‘Cosy Life’ as both a name and concept feels as though it belongs to a previous iteration of my life, not to where I am now.

I think that’s it for today. Going forward I hope to start sharing a mix of content as before, including travel, culture, aviation (I am still doing occasional bits and pieces) and little snippets of life in beautiful Bath. I do hope you’ll join me.

Rachel x