Move countries, disappoint people, and find the written word
Life is a series of letting go.
This town doesn’t suit you,
this town doesn’t suit me,
let’s start a new life in SW London.
Speaking of what we left behind.
There came a point when Ireland’s intricate beauty no longer compelled us to stay.
Before settling in London, where opportunity beckoned, we flew to South East Asia on a five-week holiday.
The monkeys of Bali, full moons of Thailand, and the lethal motorcycles of Vietnam served as a cushion between our old and new lives.
No man is an island, but Ireland is, and sometimes you don’t recognize the bubble until you burst out of it.
But let’s not entirely kid ourselves, either. Alongside attitudes concreted from decades of receiving the same jovial faces, skin color, and infallible beliefs — there was a real sense of community, which I’m still searching for abroad.
On a Sunday drive through seemingly isolated parishes, dilapidated buildings, and untouched scenery, you can bet your bottom dollar that there’s a stronger and more deeply rooted community than anything a big city like London has to offer.
