Leaving the Green Green Grass of Home

Unemployed and moving out.  Two circumstances which don’t fit brilliantly together, but I seem to like a challenge.  So all of sudden in August I found myself signing for a flat with my better half.  And he’s undoubtedly the better half as he was the reason we were upping ship to Derby, yes Derby, because he’d bagged himself a flipping good job and, well, I hadn’t.  So we decided, after a lot of umming and ahhing on my behalf, to give the real world a go together.  On the plus side it’s about equidistant from our respective family homes, North Wales and Newcastle, and the let is primarily only six months – so if it all goes horribly wrong…  

And Derby is actually very nice.  Our apartment (oh we’ve left our student flat days behind) is in the heart of the small city, the Cathedral Quarter.  With theatres, an exciting new film and art centre, pubs and restaurants, and importantly the enormous and shiny new Westfield shopping centre only a hop, skip and a jump away from our doorstep, we’re able to sample every slice of city life without splashing out on buses or taxis. 

One of the BBC’s big screens is situated practically downstairs, showing local art and moving pictures, the news and weather, as well as national events. 

Our first taste of this cultured outdoor experience was watching the Last Night of the Proms with my parents.  Plastic chairs and tables a-plenty, live music from local jazz bands, orchestras and choirs, Union Jack flags in abundance, and the event itself on the big screen made for a very enjoyable evening.  The community spirit and sense of occasion gave me a real buzz so I’ll definitely be back…although now Carol the weatherwoman on Breakfast tells me we’ve officially entered Autumn, I suppose the open-air schedule will be a little lighter.

So the settling in stage is going well, finding our way around and discovering there’s plenty to do.  Staying in could easily become the new going out as the party animals and night owls on the streets outside provide plenty of entertainment.  And now we’ve entered Fresher’s Fortnight, so we’re allowed to feel old and bitter about no longer being students.  On the way home at 10.30pm after a few drinks – a week night – we were approached by hoards of fresh-faced leaflet givers, hoping to tempt us into their bars and clubs, trying to reel us in with overly friendly chit chat.   “Where you off to tonight then guys?” to which we replied with bitter, smug pleasure, knowing we wouldn’t be waking up with a hangover and a sack full of regrets…”home”.

Hopefully soon we can explore the Peak District, I suspect there may be a good photo opportunity or two in waiting. 

But I won’t lie, my heart belongs to the Green Green Grass of North Wales.