Coming home
Why do you go away? So you can come back
Terry Pratchet
These days, I feel like everything I write inevitably links back to California, but it was such a positive experience for us all, that life from this point will forever be known hereon in as Before California (BC) and After California (AC). It feels like 10 weeks, but it’s been 10 months back home. And in that time, I’ve wondered what home really means.
Around the world
I’ve lived in a fair few places — Japan, Italy, America — and spent a considerable amount of time in India. I’ve been to Mauritius on many occasions (my Mother’s homeland), travelled through most of Europe — with a few stories to tell about Cuba, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, The Caribbean, Reunion, Jordan, Egypt, Israel, Mexico and Hawaii — and I’ve felt at home, in one way or another, in all of these places. Yes, home is a crazy, constantly shifting state of mind when you’re young, free and single. But when you have kids everything changes.
London Calling
There were a few reasons for coming back, but mostly, we had to weigh up the elusive green card and constant sun against the inclement weather and blustery winds of home. It was tough. We had an unbelievable experience in America and squeezed out every last drop. But in the end, the UK won out.
Seasons in the sun
So many people keep asking why we chose home instead of California, seemingly incredulous that we could choose the UK over the sunshine state. I guess at the heart of it all, we’re Anglophiles. Yes, there’s a load of stuff going on in England (The NHS being shackled to its knees, the piss-poor state of politics (where is there a credible liberal centrist party when you damn well need one?) and the weather. Oh, the weather.
But despite the current shit-storm of affairs on home turf (and the weather), I’m proud to be from here. I’ve had opportunities galore and made the most of each and every one of them, sometimes celebrating success and other times, failing miserably. The point is, the UK offers so much — beautiful land, culture, ancient tales and folklore, education, Europe (in or out, we’re still geographically in a great place to access PARIS and ROME for gods sakes), food, nightlife, LONDON, music and morris dancing (explanatory link provided for my American comrades. Im not sure you know what you’re missing).
Making Memories
I wanted my kids to eat fish and chips in the rain on a cold day in Devon. I wanted them to climb Haytor on Dartmoor and feel the 370 million year old granite beneath their feet. I wanted them to develop a British sense of humour — dry, cynical and self deprecating — and most of all, I wanted them to have a strong sense of who they are and where they come from, even it if means 16 out of their 18(ish) years at home will more than likely mean year after year of cold, damp summers. Their roots extend to Mauritius too, so obviously we’ll have to head back there regularly to hit the heat — all in the name of ‘identity’.
America ain’t mine
That’s not to say America doesn’t have these amazing things. But I didn’t feel I could lay claim to any of them, and so I couldn’t pass that sense of ownership onto my kids. Dartmoor feels like mine. I know the shape of Haytor so well, it’s etched into my memory, along with the countless letterboxing trips we used to do there as kids. The beaches of the South Hams are mine. They look and feel and smell like home — their pebbly sands a giant picnic blanket for some truly spectacular authentic British Mauritian picnics.
Fries are chips and chips are crisps
My kids are already forgetting so many of the wonderful mini memories we made there — not just the mega road trips and beautiful landscapes, but small things — like the hummingbirds we used to watch outside our window every morning; the view of the sea from our Sausalito home and the daily commute on the ferry across the bay to San Francisco.
Clearly, I haven’t had time to make the perfect family photo album (too busy drowning in admin, but I’ll get there) and I’m petrified they’ll forget how incredibly lucky we were to experience California in the way that we did, so writing this is all for them. And so we can have a laugh down the line about our take on Brits versus Americans, here are some of my keener observations that we experienced first hand:
- Yes, we were mocked from week 1 for possessing a kettle and drinking tea (you know who you are).
- My U.S. agents still pay me by cheque (??), but who’s complaining as long as you get paid right?
- I didn’t really notice the class system in England until I went to America. We’re a judgemental bunch when we want to be.
- The Brits won’t give up their 5 weeks’ holiday and 6 months’ maternity pay for anyone — and how lucky we are to get it. But we took full advantage of the Silicon Valley ‘unlimited holiday allowance’ — only to realise that nobody other than us used it (think we clocked up 17 weeks in just under 2 years, which we thought was a good effort).
- Bring Your Kids to Work Day has not kicked off in the UK and I don’t think it ever will. Nobody here is really interested in anyone else’s kids other than their own. (There. I said it.)
- Americans are obsessed with teeth and gums (and sometimes guns). The Brits don’t give a fig about pearly whites.
- We don’t take Halloween that seriously and DO NOT eat sweet potatoes covered in marshmallows under any circumstances (but I have to say our meal with gigantic turkey, proffered by George Lucas, was absolutely delicious).
- Policemen and women, and airport staff, really do talk to you like a piece of shit (Best to talk to me about that in person).
- American airports are some of the worst holding bays I’ve ever had to step foot in. I’d choose Delhi over LAX any day of the week.
- Biscuits and cookies are all messed up.
- We Brits are seriously ripped off when it comes to petrol (gas).
But despite our differences, the truth is, my husband and I love both countries. Everyone is up for everything in California. There’s so much to do. The land is truly some of the most spectacular scenery I have ever been privvy to see. There is a perpetual sense of opportunity underlying everything and it’s amazing travelling through the U.S. with kids. The place is inked into our skin.
But towns and cities, walls and buildings in the UK are so beautiful. Our landscape has been formed from hundreds of years of farming, which has it’s own unique beauty (for me). And don’t get me started on Georgian and Victorian architecture — who ever put so much effort into sea front promenades, city parks and single lamp posts?
I’m a bit obsessed with Georgian and Victorian lamp posts. In researching this, I learned that in my hometown of Bristol, high priority has been given to our historic streetscapes, due to the tireless commitment of a community group called the Clifton and Hotwells Improvement Society. Who knew that people actually fought for lamp posts? I thank them whole heartedly.
So here we are, 10 months back. My husband and I are still all over the shop with new start ups and studios. But although I have a wobble most days (what have we done? What have we given up? Why is the weather so shit?), my kids are relaxed and happy, closer to their wider family members and thriving.
And in the end, that’s all that really matters.
Books
I’m ashamed to say we’ve been so busy sorting stuff that I haven’t had much capacity to engage much with anything apart from my pillow. A lot of my music and book recommendations will appear in my work blog, but I’ll stick stuff here too when I can.
The Portable Veblen
I’m half way through this. Essentially a black comedy about a squirrel, an overbearing mother and a struggling marriage. As Veblen herself notes, this book proves that ‘despair makes the best art’. Full Guardian review here. Hilarious and a little bit crazy, it’s the perfect bedtime companion.
Music
R6 Music is the one constant thing in my life and listening recently, I came across Damien Jurardo. An American singer / songwriter from Seattle, he’s a real mind soother, so I’d urge you to play just about anything he releases.
