Well, that was quite a week.
On Monday, we were preparing to buy a beautiful shop in Padstow’s quaint harbour; by Thursday the deal was off. Weeks of planning, contacting toy wholesalers, ice-cream producers and purveyors of fine Cornish treats, had been swept away with the tide.
We were bereft. Initially. This feeling was quelled upon hearing: ‘I wouldn’t touch that place with a barge pole’ from a local estate agent. If we had any remaining doubts about our decision to withdraw our offer, these were quickly extinguished. A member of staff in the shop we were buying casually remarked: ‘This place is dead. No one ventures down this side of the harbour.’ Terrific. Family Twigg simultaneously puffed a gargantuan sigh of relief.
Despite our romantic dreams being pierced with the sharp stick of reality, we have decided to make the move anyway. In a few weeks, we will say farewell to Swindon – my home for 15 years, my husband’s since birth – and gallop down the M5, Padstow bound.
I am enormously excited but my heart is fluttering with trepidation. I hope I will make friends here, I hope the locals won’t be hostile to us ‘up-country’ folk, and I hope I can continue to make a living from writing or I may need to ask Rick Stein for a shift or two.
I hope my friends and blog followers will continue to read my blog as I chart our new journey in our new home.