It has been a surreal, emotional, strange, unsettling yet exciting and fulfilling week- the week of the big move South.
Today I found myself in Dorking’s Waitrose, which is the size of an airport terminal.
It is seemingly frequented by yummy mummies dressed for the promenade at Cannes, Monte Carlo or Brighton (it’s hot); and retired gentlemen wearing light-coloured linen suits and fedoras, being herded around by their partners who all looked like retired headmistresses….the stern type.
Waitrose was a mixture of the familiar meets the unusual with the most impressive selection of gin brands I have seen this side of the mother-in-law’s bedside cabinet (only joking).
Yesterday I attempted my first commute into London. It was all relatively smooth and took about 2 hours door to door.
Some have already pointed out that they have done the same journey in the same time door to door from Birmingham. I did point out, however, that they would have done so at considerably higher cost AND it did require them to live in Birmingham (only joking).
The morning car park spaces at Clandon were plentiful and the purchase of tickets was hassle free.
The platform was empty and so was the train, pretty much, and punctual to boot.
As I spread myself across my four sets I began to wonder what all those professional southern commuter-complainers (you know who you are) had been going on about all these years. But, after about the fourth stop on the line (Horsley) the carriage began to fill up. By the time we arrived at Waterloo it was a veritable sardine can and as hot as a hot thing could be.
People were slowly turning a lobster red – I fitted in pretty well for a change – and looking tired, irritated and dozy as they tried to lose themselves in their smartphone or tablet of choice.
There was actually a small delay of fifteen minutes apparently due to an “altercation”!on a train ahead of us. News of this was greeted with a collective, irritated shrug of the shoulder and a roll of the eye and the briefest of eye contact and a tut with which to share a “here we go again” moment.
The new house is already feeling more homely now that we have our furniture in place. Although I am sure that C will play with many more configurations in the days, weeks and months to come. But there are still plenty of boxes to unpack and a garage brimming with those deemed surplus to requirement.
It is very quiet here and the village, Shere, is lovely with a couple of excellent pubs, restaurants and cafe cum delis.
Despite the dire warnings from our northern neighbour, Janine, everyone seems very friendly, although I suspect we may encounter a strange mixture of Wicker Man meets the Women’s institute in days to come – like living in Hot Fuzz.
The staff at the Dabbling Duck allowed C to use their wifi at her leisure so she could submit a job application. This foray to “the Duck” was necessary as we are still without landline and internet due to the incompetence of BT. Indeed, the lack of access to Amazon Prime has been the biggest burden to carry so far….
So, so far so good and we have a long weekend of discovery (key cutters and light bulbs as a priority) and entertaining family and friends to look forward to!
And then the dreaded commute Heathrow to Orly on Tuesday……