251. Is the Grass Greener? A year of living in the middle of nowhere

Saturday 18 November 2023

This time last year, Chris and I were driving from Lewisham to Scottish Borders with a car laden with our most important packing. We have now had the keys to this house for a year. I didn’t write much in my journal a year ago but within a matter of hours, I wrote about how the lighting of the fire was a big issue. At that time, we didn’t have any electric heaters and the multifuel burner was our only source of heat as it was attached to a back boiler which powered the radiators. Only it didn’t because somehow a crucial tap was turned off, which stopped the hot water being circulated through the pipes and into the radiators. This morning, I am writing this with a small fan heater directed at me and all is pleasant temperature-wise.

Unlike last year, it is grey, low cloud and misty rain. We were lucky to move in on a day without wind, rain, ice or snow. That was all to come! I’m quite a reflective person anyway but now that it is exactly the date we moved in a year ago, I have some clarity of thought about the past year.

I do feel like this is my home, but when I’m in the flat in Lewisham, that also feels like home. I don’t feel like I necessarily live in Scotland, but I do feel like I live in the middle of nowhere. However, when I’m having a big love-in with the scenery, which is most days, I am amazed at what a beautiful place Scotland is. I feel lucky to have discovered this part of the country and even luckier to be living here.

We thought we had a fair idea what it would be like living here, and in many respects I think we were prepared. But I think the things we prepared for weren’t the things we have ended up struggling with or having to deal with.

We expected snow … but not disruption due to ice (sheet ice, black ice, granola-like ice)

Rain. We knew it rained a lot in Scotland, a lot more than in London. But it’s not just the fact of rain you need to factor in. Country lanes flood, and in our case heavy rains effectively shuts off one of the two directions we can drive. To go for a walk means more mud and general messiness than I have ever experienced on a regular basis. The air is damp, things don’t dry, including small puddles from water on the soles of boots and wellies. Walking around the house, to the car; you get wet, the ground is soft. It can be grey and wet every single day for weeks. When the wind and rain are in a very particular certain direction, water gets in places it shouldn’t (which is true for anywhere in the country but with added wind and rain persistence here on a more regular basis). Rain gets into the letter box, post gets wet. It may still look beautiful out here in the rain, but it’s a lot easier to default to cheery if there’s blue sky and sun.

Bridge with the river at the highest we’ve seen it in a year. 30 December 2023

Driving. We knew we’d have to drive everywhere. That’s actually kind of ok, surprisingly, partly because I genuinely enjoy driving because it’s so beautiful. However, driving in torrential rain, when roads are muddy, in ice, in darkness; it’s more challenging here because there are no street lights and the sides of the road are either wet, boggy or drop down fairly steep slopes. A shop takes a lot longer than you’d hope (I know, we could get delivery but neither of us has ever wanted that, but it is of course an option). But going to the shops is probably good as I think it’d be too easy to get used to not going out anywhere otherwise and I think it’s good for us to regularly go out, encounter people and a change of scene. It is very different driving here than in London. Reverse gear is your friend as is judging the speed and mindset of drivers in the opposite direction. Logging trucks are very big, rarely reverse and can easily panic you into driving onto the verge, which is not always a good decision. Like I said, reverse gear is your friend.

Safety. We thought we’d be a bit nervous being out here, would feel isolated and night noises would be scary. We prepared ourselves for that, including listening to recordings of owls, badgers, foxes, etc and the eerie sounds they make at night. None of that has been a bother. I have found it easy to not be alarmed by any sounds I hear. We really are in the middle of nowhere and, surprisingly, that makes me feel safer from other people, criminals, than in villages, towns and cities. I also feel that this house keeps us safe. I’ve never felt that before about a building, but there is something about this house that makes me feel protected.

House maintenance. Admittedly, neither of us has ever owned an old house, but, oh my, I don’t think we even considered how expensive it would be to keep this house in good repair, and it was completely renovated in the years leading up to our buying it. So, yes, we had a lot of snagging issues to deal with, but, thinking back over the year, we have spent THOUSANDS on repairs, necessary changes and general work around the house. I know there will be more that needs doing over the entirety of the time we own this house, but I know that we are much better off (ie more prepared, not wealthier!) ahead of this year than ahead of last year.

Tradespeople. We did not factor in tradespeople not wanting to travel this far out (all towns are at least a forty-minute drive away). I don’t think we factored in needing any tradespeople in the first place, but, ha, how wrong we were. In Lewisham, there is a Screwfix at the bottom of our block. Here, the nearest DIY or specialist shop is at least fifty minutes’s drive each way. Not having the right parts to do a job is a much bigger deal. Some tradespeople refuse to come out this far. Many don’t respond when you make enquiries. Some quote ridiculous prices. Sometimes we haven’t even been able to find anyone. Our saving grace has been Mitch, who has dealt with more than just what I would expect and hope of a handyman; he’s sorted some plumbing and electric issues when we couldn’t get a plumber to come over. And he lives between us and a town. We have been very lucky to have found him.

A bridge. We loved the fact of having a bridge over a river as part of our driveway. But bigger vans and delivery vehicles can’t/won’t drive over it. The narrowness of the road leading into the drive means we can’t have delivery of long things (my plan to have a static caravan or similar has been scuppered for that reason). Very heavy things can’t come across the bridge and up to the house.

No mains water. It’s great when there’s rain and plenty of water, the water tastes amazing and is filtered through UV and paper filters so no chemicals. It’s also kind of liberating to know you’re not wasting water because if we didn’t use it, it would just flow over the already-wet ground. However, I’m slightly on the fence about having spring water as our sole source of water because the stress of the spring running dry (or whatever happened; there was more to it than just that) and being without water for almost a month and a half was extremely stressful. I would hope we will cope better next summer (assuming there’ll be another drought) as we know significantly more now than we did this year, but it would still be a source of stress and worry. I didn’t realise how much of a stress and weight it was – and it was very much a big stress and inconvenience at the time – until it had rained a lot and the tank was always topped up. I enjoyed having baths again.

A septic tank. I had never wanted one. We have one. I don’t like them, but would anyone actually choose to have one? Surely not. It’s something that niggles me, the having of one, the wondering if/when it will fill up and overflow. The top of the tank is just messy, massive slabs of concrete in an area where I want some heavy things to cross (the static caravan I can’t have because of the turn from the road and the bridge, for example – but even the neighbour’s large digger, which we could otherwise have had Mitch use to level out that piece of prime, for being relatively flat and relatively unboggy, land). It can’t be driven over.

That’ll do for now, my reflections on the year and living here. Overall, is the grass greener? Literally, yes; the rain makes it a verdant place. There are pros and cons, but maybe some of the pros and cons are more extreme and less obvious to a new resident than most of the pros and cons of living in a flat in a block in a particularly urban and busy part of southeast London.