Tea & Sympathy

Sometimes all you need is one photo. In this case, and to me at least, it speaks a thousand words because the image above was taken on the first day of this new adventure we currently find ourselves on and it’s filled with hope and happiness, which is exactly what we were searching for when we left our life in London to start afresh in the wilds of Cornwall. Okay, so we’ll be living in the centre of a bustling town but that doesn’t sound anywhere near as dramatic, and if you know anything about me you’ll know I’m all about the drama. Anywho, when I look at this photo I can instantly remember exactly how I was feeling and what emotions I was going through when it was taken (unawares to me), and even though we’re only a month or so into our Cornish life it almost feels like it was captured a lifetime ago – so much has happened, and yet at the same time, not nearly enough.

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Here I am, still sitting in a camper van (kill me now), parked up in one of the prettiest places on earth (in my humble opinion) and I can’t wholeheartedly say it’s gone entirely to plan. First of all there were (read ‘are’) the flat finding problems that have yet to be resolved… we’re still having our application processed (I’ve never had such thorough background checks in my life!) and the leak (which we already knew about) is currently being fixed. So, suffice to say, it’ll be another week (at the very least) before we get our hands on those keys – and by God when I do I may just shed a tear or two of joy.

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You see, not having much living space to play with gives you plenty ‘o time to think. And think. And think a bit more. All this thinking is clearly not good for me. Both of us are at the stage where it’s starting to get to us and, whilst we’ve never really had a cross word in our lives, it’s pretty obvious that tempers are beginning to fray a little… loose translation: I have thrown several strops along the way. So classy, so dignified, so not me. Poor Hubby.

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I’ve discovered a few things about myself too though, which have been, shall we say, illuminating if not entirely disconcerting, especially for a girl who thought she was well equipped to deal with long term outdoor(ish) living. I’ll give you a clue – I’m not. Yep, turns out I like those little luxuries such as hot water on tap, showers, a good mattress, clean laundry and just about everything I have ever taken for granted. In all honesty, I’m currently in camper hell. Is it time to say, ‘I’m a diva, get me out of here’ yet?

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Even getting up in the morning is a struggle and I’m normally the early riser. But since we’ve entered this new existence of ours, my Husband has practically had to lure me out from under the duvet with a cup of tea every goddamn morning – I literally don’t know what’s happened me, or my motivation. Luckily my writing (hallelujah for Hunger) has been the one constant that’s keeping me on track and bringing a bit of very much needed normality into this mess of a situation (I exaggerate but as we’ve just learned, I am undoubtedly a bona fide diva).

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It’s probably not as bad as I’m making out but when you can barely feel your toes, are running out of clothes to wear, and have only two sitting positions to chose from (and let’s not even mention the porta potty!),  it can all become a bit overwhelming. The money we thought we were saving by staying in the camper is slowly being frittered away as we entertain ourselves outside the van… Indian takeaways, trips into town and nights at the cinema all add up, so it may have been an entirely false economy but hey ho, here we are, and once the flat progresses from fantasy into reality I’m sure I will begin to feel more settled in my new life. Neither of us regret leaving London for a second but isn’t it strange how the transition hasn’t been as smooth as we first predicted?

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When we last lived in Cornwall, it was all smooth sailing, and we slotted right in immediately. We had the most outrageous flat, managed to make friends easily and enjoyed a year of blissful Cornish living before deciding we weren’t quite done with London – and we were right. Two years later and we knew we’d accomplished (almost) everything we wanted to and were able to bring the additional contacts and skills we’d picked up there back down with us to start a future that didn’t involve long commutes, high rental prices and a generally stressful way of life. I honestly believed we would slip back in as if nothing ever happened, so these initial difficulties have come as quite a surprise. I’m not unduly worried mind, and I’m fully aware these are the wranglings of a partial mad woman whose biggest worry at present is when I can next have a blow dry, but some tea and sympathy surely would not go amiss? Go on, put the kettle will ya – I’ll be round in a tick to bore you with more of my woes.

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2 responses to “Tea & Sympathy”

  1. Sian says:

    Oh honey, soon this will all be over and what a great story you will have to tell about the time you lived in a camper van on the Cornish coast. Put it all down to experience. All things must pass, this too shall pass. Wish I could offer you a cuppa, but it might get cold between Belfast and Cornwall xx

  2. peasoupeats says:

    Thanks Sian, and yes, it will certainly pass… I can only hope it will be as soon as humanly possible! I’m sure we’ll laugh about it when we’re sitting snuggly in our new flat. In the meantime I’m making the best of it – cheers for the comment:) x

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