FOR any Londoner, there's nothing quite like "a weekend in the countryside" for a swift, three-day reset. The countryside, by design, is what many crave: long, muddy walks in the woods, a cosy country pub in which to discover a new, local ale, and lush green hills rolling from your kitchen window. It really is rather wonderful. And a long weekend is ample enough time to reinvigorate the soul for another week.
But sometimes the weekend doesn't feel quite long enough. So my husband and I decided to try out a more rural, slower life. We had always mulled over a move to the countryside, so nearly half a year ago, we took the opportunity to test out what it would be like on the other side while our flat was being renovated.
We found ourselves in a small, market town in the heart of the Derbyshire Dales after friends kindly let us stay at their home. The town itself is something straight out of a picture postcard of a traditional country idyll: cobbled streets, attractive stone buildings, and views of fields and cattle as far as the eye can see. During the first few weeks, I was sold on the dream. I wondered if perhaps this was a better living alternative? Could a gentler pace of life be more beneficial for a person's happiness and wellbeing? However, after spending three seasons here, all of which have given me a greater understanding as to the actual realities of country living, my views have changed somewhat.
In recent weeks, I have noticed my mood suddenly take a dip, and while I was throwing myself into the experience, trying to make the best of things, my anxiety has got the better of me, and I find myself feeling more isolated than ever. The start of the year is a gloomy and quiet time for us all, but in a small market town it feels grey, desolate and so unnervingly quiet. I always find Mondays the worst, as almost everything is shut.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February 06, 2023-Ausgabe von Evening Standard.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der February 06, 2023-Ausgabe von Evening Standard.
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