The freedom of city living 

There’s a relentless buzz that I love, a hum of traffic, sirens blasting atop emergency service vehicles, footsteps tapping away at the concrete paving slabs above a rickety, screeching metro system below. I wouldn’t change it, Newcastle itself isn’t anywhere near as busy as say, London, and I am fine with that. I feel I get the best of both worlds- I can find peace and quiet if I want to fairly easily but still have much variety to fulfill my varying needs.

When I head back to my hometown (well, village), I know why I moved away. I love heading up that hill towards my true home with the fields surrounding me, more farm animals in sight than I have probably seen all year and a sign welcoming me whilst reminding me to slow down. It’s a village remember, there is no need to be in such a rush anymore. After endless cups of tea and a sunset seemingly- and generously- taking forever to disappear over a horizon behind a thousand fields, I feel the day has come to an end. Not like it does in the city, I feel I have more of a say there. At home, nature acts like my parents did when I was young. When the lights are off, get settled and wait for the rooster to wake you up.

The problem is, when I am back home I clearly have no work commitments holding me back. I don’t want to sleep, I want to explore, to have a few drinks, to walk around. This is pretty hard during the weekday, society is kept to a much more strict schedule here. Everything closes early, even the pubs. There are no late night restaurants, 24-hour garages are the only saving grace. I was there recently, having a few beers and was eager to keep my hometown friends out until the last call. ‘On a Tuesday?!’ One replied. Well, why the hell not? If we work in industries outside the 9-5, why is Tuesday such a bad day? Motivation however does dwindle after 10pm, when the stars outshine the deserted streets, when breathing is one of the louder sounds around us other than the sound of the slot machines and empty pint glasses tapping against the bar as the last locals go home.

This is why I love city living. Every day can be a weekend, if that’s what you want. I go back to my hometown to remind myself how beautiful nature is, how bright the stars can be and that leaving my front door unlocked overnight may result in a farm animal walking in. To enjoy peace and tranquility and alone time when needed. I go back to the city for another kind of freedom. The freedom to choose what I want and when I want without nature dictating when I should sleep or play.

Will I be in bed by 11pm or stay out til 4am? Who knows, and I plan to keep it that way!


I would love for my blog to continue growing, to keep challenging myself and to hear your stories. Thank you to my followers for inspiring me to keep posting, by following my blog I promise you will put a smile on my face!



For Those of You in the Big City 

I love living in a small city. It’s commutable, people have time to have a chat in the street and there is just the right amount of variety. That is until the Christmas shopping starts. I always tell myself I could live in a big city, until I find myself walking around a toy store looking for a present for my Goddaughter, fighting the crowds like it’s a Prodigy gig. 

I remind myself that some cities are like this all the time. If you live in a big city, you have my respect. 

Burrito time.

The further you travel, the closer it is to home

I must have been one of the first people they had spoken to since arriving in Europe. Travelling all the way from Lubbock TX, they were delighted when I told them I once lived and worked in their city. For them it was a huge coincidence. For me, in a job that involves speaking to many international travelers, it was a matter of time.

Not to take anything away from the chat, it was great to meet them and brought back some awesome memories. I remember being in their shoes in their home city. It was just as much of a surprise when a guy at the bar recognised my accent and told me how he went to school in my hometown. It was very funny to hear how we brought back the northern English accent that had clearly faded over time.
It was also a surprise when I bumped into a friend in New York City, checking into a hotel as I was checking out. Being so far from home, it took a while to sink in. We crossed paths like we did at college and the local store. A couple thousand miles did not change anything. 

The more I travel, the more I have these experiences. 

I hope I’m not the only one!