One Year On

This time last year we were battling jet lag at Pendley Manor and talking about the awesome day we had on the Harry Potter Tour. We were pleasantly surprised by the mild weather, much different to how it is now, with two big snowfalls in a month and talk of more to come for the Easter weekend (doubtful, but you never know!). It certainly doesn’t feel like a year. And no, we’re not settled. I think that’s a feeling that takes a long time to come, if it does at all. Of course, things are a lot more familiar than they were then; we know our way around and how things are generally done but we still very much feel like outliers, kind of part of it but not, and still full of questions, the main one being ‘should we or shouldn’t we’ with regards to staying. We did say though, in the beginning, that we would give it two years and then reassess. We knew the first year would be the most difficult and after that we could concentrate on making things work for us as we’d like, as a family. So this is now where we find ourselves.

So what’s it been like? How is living in Devon compared to living in Perth? Not sure it’s a fair comparison, pitting one year’s experience against 30. But if we must, making the pros list for Old Blighty so far would be that there’s loads of stuff to do. LOADS! National Trust, countryside walks and picnics, quaint villages to visit, museums, historical sites. Endless. Spoilt for choice in school holidays. Sure, the weather can be a bit of a put-off, but nothing a pair of wellies, waterproofs, and a big old tree can’t fix. Stunning country-side, even driving to work and school is a pleasure (unless there’s an accident on the A30 and then you’re in it!) with so much beauty to take in. Noah particularly likes the River Dart, and comments on how it looks different every day. Being around all this does make us stop and appreciate the little things; whether it’s a robin hopping through the snow, the yellow butterfly spotted in the woods, or the season’s first bumble bee on the new blossoms in the garden (would we call it a garden?). We went for a walk on Monday and saw baby lambs (we didn’t go for a walk to see baby lambs, we just went for a walk, and there were baby lambs in a field, along with all the horses and sheep and cows, you get the picture!) Winter has been a hard slog and it does feel as though it might never end when you’re in it, and we’ll admit it did have us wondering on occasion why we ever swapped the blue skies of Perth. But even winter has its own beauty and purpose (resting up, drinking red wine, and sleeping!), and now there are definite signs of spring (apart from the angst about more snow - the English really do like to talk about the weather!) People are really friendly, for the most part. It’s not uncommon to find out all about one’s personal life in the queue at Lidl, or at the bus stop. Noah’s made friends with the kids in the street, kicking footballs against garage doors and stuff (jumpers for goal posts!) Maciek’s loving all the football on telly, especially with the World Cup coming up (groan), and there’s even AFL. Noah was so excited last week to see the Hawks (not sure why?). And believe it or not, the weather makes this list too. It’s become a bit of joke now. When people ask what brought us over here, from Australia? Are you mad? We tell them it was the weather, and there’s a kind of confused silence followed by laugh-out-loud disbelief. People that already know this answer delight in encouraging us to tell their friends. But it’s true. Not the only reason of course. But it’s a simple and amusing one. And here we are talking about the weather again. But if you’re not great fans of living in a sauna for most of the year then you might agree. We like the changeability. Sure, the unpredictability is a bit of a pain, and we’ve been caught out many a time (tip: be aware that taking a bbq picnic to the beach on New Year’s Day may not be the best idea - but it was fun nonetheless). We like it, especially now we’ve the late light evenings to look forward to, when it feels you’ve got all the time in the world. And Amelia and Noah like those days where ‘the air feels just right, not hot, not cold, just in the middle and soft on your skin’.

The NHS is a good one for this list. All positive experiences so far, apart from that frightening excuse for a wrist splint when Amelia got her cast off. Free acupuncture, free physio, free rehab pilates. Free paediatric specialist appointments. Friendly staff. No complaints there.

Quaint old fashioned village shops and post offices. Love them. And they still stamp your books in the library. With a real stamp. And sometimes the computer says no so everything has to be done manually! Gasp! There’s even a library inside a post office, which is also a newsagent. That’s in Ashburton. A village full of antique shops and other quirky delights. But also has a skate park. And an indoor swimming pool that you can hire out for yourself. Brilliant.

Football in the mud. Proper.

Date nights at cool places. We’ve had three so far (whoopee - three in a year!). Once, a friend came to babysit. We saw Mountain at the 14th century barn cinema, then had dinner at a (sort of) local called The Welcome Stranger. Second we went for dinner round the corner, at The Star Inn, one-minute walk, left the kids to watch a film (naughty, we know, but you’d go insane too doing it all alone for the best part of a year!), and recently, to an awesome cafe that opens for a set evening meal three nights a week, Home Farm Cafe in Bovey Tracey (kids were on a birthday sleepover = celebrate!!). It was delicious. A complete overindulgence. Couldn’t breathe after. It was actually quite painful. But in a good way.

Being able to walk through country side and woodlands from your house. Maciek can ride his bike straight to the moor, or through the woods to Bovey. Just what he’s always wanted.

Watching re-runs of 80’s Top of the Pops. (That just came on so I thought I’d put it in; it’s not what we normally do. Honest.)

Interesting place names. Splatford Split for example. I want to live there, just so I can write that on forms and stuff.

Charity shops. Loads of them. Full of hidden gems. Especially the ones in up-market villages like Topsham, Budleigh Salterton and Totnes.

Snow in March. I get it now, why everything stops. It’s cheaper to shut the country down for a couple of days than to put in all the infrastructure to keep things going on the off-chance it might snow once every few years. Luckily, working at a school, I’m one of the ones who get a day off! And it was heartwarming to see those with 4WD helping out their communities, giving doctors and nurses lifts to surgeries and hospitals, picking up supplies for the elderly, collecting stranded commuters. I don’t get why, though, the co-op still had no bread and dairy a whole week after the snow melted. Just a little bit annoying.

Cheap confectionary. And alcohol. This one should probably be sitting on the fence in all honesty.

So what gets stuck on the cons list? Well, first up’s a no brainer. PARKING! Blooming stuffing PARKING! Or lack thereof, or else extortion when there is. It’s. A. Nightmare. Fancy a swim at the leisure centre? What’s that? You want to park? Don’t fancy your chances. Taking the kids to the library? Yeah, nah. Driving to the doctor’s? Good luck then. You’ve a football match on Saturday, but, er, don’t know where you’re gonna park. Come and tile our house, and by the way, it’ll cost you a fiver a day to park across the road and carry all your tools over. Or come and work at the school for £7 an hour, but there’s no parking, so you’ll have to pay every day at the shops across the road, or better still, buy an annual permit for £35 from the trust, even though we can’t guarantee you a job past Easter. And even when you do find a spot (very very rarely free - if it is you’d better have sturdy walking shoes because it’ll be miles away from where you need to get to) it’s in your favour to have been practicing parallel parking into a space the size of a telephone box. Which I haven’t. And can’t. And probably never will. Buy a Ka car. That could be a solution. And stop eating, so you can actually get out of your car without banging your door and denting the one squeezed in beside you, because that’s one manoeuvre that takes a contortionist’s skill. So, Perthians, don’t ever complain about parking again. Ever. Honestly.

I suppose you could catch public transport. Yeah, if you’re a MILLIONAIRE! Or a pensioner. Adding to the reason I still haven’t caught up with family and friends around the country yet. Because I’m not going anywhere near a road that begins with an M. A, fine. B, even better. M = panic stations. Too fast. Can’t think that quickly. But that’s just me.

And who said it was cheaper here? Frollocks. Cars, yes. Groceries, yes, for the most part. Housing? General everyday stuff? DIY items? Batteries? Sello-tape? Stationary? Don’t be ridiculous! Books? Okay, maybe, but try the charity shops first. Overall, the ratio between the cost of living and the average wage is pretty dire, so how on earth to people save up enough doe to get to Majorca? Between that and the weather, no wonder there’s so much tutting and eye-rolling going on! And that’s something that catches on too. Maciek’s been known for the odd involuntary tut and eye roll, trust me.

Bills. Loads of expensive bills. For everything. TV licence - what’s that all about?

The radio. It’s like there’re are only 5 songs on their playlist. Amelia and Noah know all the words to Backstreet’s Back, poor things,  and I’ve been giving them the low down on Aunty Donna’s obsession with that blonde one (Nick was it?). And who is Hansen anyway, they ask. Rick Astley, remember him? Oh, and that one from Go West. And how many times are we supposed to listen to Two Can Play That Game by Bobbie Brown? Who even remembers that? I’d never heard of it. But now I hear it EVERYDAY, at the same time, on the way to school, AND on the way back. Why?

The biggest con of all: being without people. Our people. Family and friends. The ones who’ve known the kids since they were born, the ones who truly love them and understand their idiosyncrasies without us having to explain! The ones who are there for us all no matter what. And also not being there for them, our friends and family, through some of their toughest times. And that’s something that weights heavy.

The year has been awesome, but it definitely hasn’t been without struggle and stress. A lot of it. And actually, in all honesty, we’re pretty exhausted. Since we arrived we’ve talked about this experience using the analogy of jigsaw puzzle. The first 6 months, we had all these pieces that we couldn’t quite make fit together. But now, after a year, it seems one crucial piece has been found. Amelia has been offered a place at the school we wanted for her secondary start in September. Which is fantastic news, a big weight off our minds, and we know it’s the best thing for her here (second of course to the wonderful school she was at in Perth!). But it throws up a new dilemma, like someone’s chucked in a whole load of new pieces from a different jigsaw and mushed them all up with the ones we had! We really like where we live right now, and her new school is a 30+minute commute to the north side of Exeter, and Noah’s primary school is a 20 minute drive in the opposite direction. He doesn’t love it, but he’s quite settled, and we don’t want to move him again. Plus, that’s where my job is. So. What to do next?

All you need for a puzzle to get going and start taking shape is a few of those crucial pieces, and the feelers are out. My book is finally (FINALLY!) doing the rounds of publishers, and Maciek has made a few contacts with regards to work choices, and we have a cool Europe trip to look forward to, where we’ll catch up with Maciek’s Dad and sis. So who knows? Who knows what awaits!

Despite me going on about pros and cons, we are very aware of trying to stay in the moment, and of being grateful. If this next year doesn’t work out and we end up returning to Perth, well, we’ll have just had another great adventure to look back on. We’ve both carried this feeling of not quite belonging for a long time. But something I’ve discovered this past year is that home doesn’t have to be just one place, or any place, or it might even be many places. And I know now that I don’t have to choose. Home can be both. And it is.

On a walk from Dartington to Totnes one rare afternoon sans kids, Maciek and I came across this little message tacked to a tree in the woods, pictured above. I think it’s a good one to remember.  

Oh, and Happy Easter. Here’s to more new beginnings!

My Mother's Day bird feeder

The leaning tower of snow man

Lane behind the house

At least the egg shop stayed open

Perfect time for a sledge