Choices, choices …

I said last time that 2022 was to be a transformational year for us. I am working on what that means for me in terms of work at the moment but, for both of us, we do need to work out whether or not we’re going to stay in Bradley Stoke. And, if not, where do we go?

tough choices – vegan or normal?

We are lucky. I have a decent army pension and we have some property income (and, I have to add, some mortgage debt). I also get a small teachers’ pension next year, C then gets her state pension in 2023 … me a few years later. Altogether we could, pretty much, do what whatever we wanted. And we are v lucky, we know we are. In a different life we always wanted to live in an old property in France. Then we thought about moving to the Alps and living in a pretty chalet. Financially both of those options are open to us … but Brexit has put paid to that as full time choice. And there are tax and pension issues with living abroad, no matter how romantic the notion. In any case, our approach has morphed. I think we’d much rather rent than buy.

And, as perennial travellers, we still feel that our home is just a base from which to launch the next adventure. Covid, of course, has put paid to that plan. How long that will last remains to be seen. But we still have a bucket list which includes South America, the Nile, India, Scandinavia, a beach in Central America, as well as the yearly ski trip. Let’s hope we can reboot that soon.

But … do we stay in our two-up, two-down in Bradley Stoke? Our friends mostly think we’re mad. In fact most of them believe that I coerce C into staying in our small house – and, previously, living in a motorhome for five years. Surely she wants to live in a house in the country (which we could easily do) where the children and grandkids could come for Christmas with all the room anyone could wish for? What about the neighbours where you are? And the lack of a view? And then there was the trip to Shetland! In a tent! What was I thinking?

mmmm

You get that I write this blog in the first person. I often, maybe not as much as I should, mention C. But, it’s fair to say, you read Roland’s view. As such how could I possibly say that I know my wife’s mind? That I am certain the decisions we make are joint? I can’t. You’d really need to speak to her. But, for the sake of argument, let’s assume I do. Or that I persuade you that we do discuss these things. And I am sensitive to her needs and desire. Go on, let’s …

I think we’ve drawn a line through buying and selling. There’s a cost to that, probably in the order of £10/15,000. And what happens if you buy somewhere you find you don’t like? Do it all again? So, letting and renting is our preferred option.

First off, we like Bradley Stoke. As folk who are getting a little older, we like having things on our doorstep. We can walk to everything: decent shops, a good surgery, opticians, and a dentist. We can cycle into Bristol in 40 minutes, a city we love. And we have two bus routes – which take us into town – within walking distance. I like our close. There’s no traffic. We know and like our neighbours. OK, so it’s not full of dignitaries or busting with middle class, but the people are caring … and decent company. We have got to know a single mum and her son (she works in Greggs), a civil servant and his wife, and a post woman who lives on her own with three mad Jack Russells. Our closest neighbour is a v quiet and lovely elderly Portugese lady who works as a porter in the brilliant local hospital. Down from her is a Polish carpenter. Across the road is an Iranian lady who cuts C’s hair. We all say hello to each other, and often chat across the garden fence. And we all help each other out – when we go away in the car I leave Doris’s keys with my mate John, the civil servant. I’m resting my case there, for now.

The house is small, for sure. Two rooms downstairs. Two and a bathroom upstairs. The garden is v small, but neat. It is easily a third bedroom and a downstairs loo too small. In an ideal world we would wave a magic wand and fix that. We thought having the kids here (two big adults and a toddler) would break us. But, with Doris as their base, it hasn’t. Sure we could have done with the third bedroom and the downstairs loo, but we managed four nights without disaster. Was it perfect? No. Would we, for that time, prefer a large house in the country? Of course we would. But only for that time.

lucky to live near here …

How do you reconcile a large house, which you only really need when family come, with a travelling life? I guess an argument is that you’d travel less and enjoy the house and its surroundings more? Become gardeners? Get to really know your environment. You could still travel, but maybe not as much? All these are sound questions – and thanks for the advice. But who cleans it? Who maintains it? And the money you spend on heating and council tax (and, and) is cash you could use exploring the Pampas in Argentina, or driving to Baku, or skiing in the Rockies? Why wouldn’t you save some of that and rent accommodation over Christmas when the kids need a bigger space (we almost did that this year)? And can you really lock up and leave a big house? It takes us 20 minutes to close this place down, and 20 minutes to open it up again.

However, that still doesn’t answer the question of a third bedroom (study, music room) and a downstairs loo. Which is an imponderable. Nor does it satisfy the issue of getting older. And being close to all of the facilities we have here. And leaving our neighbours.

And it doesn’t yet take into account whatever it is I will need to do if I can’t make a success of writing. Nor does it mix in the fact that we may be needed in Saudi Arabia for a couple of months late summer whilst Bex and Steven sort out a live-in nanny for Henry. And that, once covid is lifted, we will ski and we may well push off to Spain for six weeks after that.

I suppose we’re the luckiest people alive. For a start, we have somewhere to live, that’s ours. And we can afford it, even with rising utility prices. And we have options. Let’s see how goes, shall we?

Keep safe everyone. And have a brilliant NYE and a prosperous 2022.