In reality, living the country life dream has its ups and downs, writes Catriona Thomson, but it brings a great sense of camaraderie.
Before I moved to the country, I used to read glossy magazines, extolling the virtues of rural life. Somehow, I’d completely forgotten how much I hated living in the middle of nowhere as a teenager.
As a town dweller, I would flick, green-eyed, through pages of Aga-filled kitchens, selling the country life dream.
The second my partner and I grew tired of living in a city, we both rushed to search for a little cottage – someplace that we could call our very own “home sweet home”.
We found it, eventually, hidden down a bumpy, unmade track; our hearts entirely stolen by its stone-built charm. Twenty-three years later, I still love living here, but the shine has definitely worn off.
The roadway is almost impassable due to enormous potholes which are too expensive to fix. When winter arrives, we are the first to get snowed in, and ours is the last place where the ice finally melts.
When it is frozen, our track surface turns to glass, which means we have to park at the top and tramp up and down. Not fun when the children were smaller and I had the school run, or shopping to carry.
My main bugbear, though, is that, no matter the season, it is always muddy.
Countryside camaraderie
I used to have a posh wardrobe of clothes for town visits, but, now, any residual fashion style has long since vanished. I’m usually found swaddled in a blanket, hugging a hot water bottle and wearing a hat. Our cottage is expensive to heat.
There are other, practical things, like poor phone reception, inadequate internet service, and scant public transport. I have finally accepted that we will always be last on the delivery driver’s round. That is, if they can find us at all.
On the plus side, the views are stunning, when the hills are not shrouded in low clouds or fog. I love being surrounded by nature, listening to the owls hooting at night, or watching the bats’ aeronautical display. But, I could happily live without the mice noisily scratching in our walls.
The fresh country air normally smells heavenly, until the farmer spreads muck or the septic tank gets emptied.
The best part for me is that low light pollution means we are often treated to a wonderful, clear, star-filled sky
There is a real sense of camaraderie for us country dwellers. Our neighbours will gladly collect a parcel, or come to our rescue if we need to borrow something, or offer a lift when the car is in the garage.
However, the best part for me is that low light pollution means we are often treated to a wonderful, clear, star-filled sky. Deep down, despite all the irritations and annoyances, I still love living here.
Catriona Thomson is a freelance food and drink writer
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