From City Lights to Countryside Nights
I’m writing this blog after returning from my weekly trip to the local food market, where I picked up fresh, locally grown vegetables, a loaf of freshly baked sourdough and a few pieces of cheese from a nearby farm. It's just a short walk away (free), you don’t have to take a loan out for a loaf (£3) and the chats with the stall vendors are always genuine and heartwarming (priceless). How different life feels outside the city.
Granted, the nightlife is more peaceful hush than downtown rush. More sleepy farm than city charm. Less late-night thrill and more wind-swept hill. You get the drift. But that works for me right now.
Rewind to 2012 in London: the year of the Jubilee. It was a time of endless possibilities… and empty bank accounts. I’d recently graduated and was in dire need of a job. Hello, hospitality! Goodbye, weekends! I landed a cushy summer gig waitressing at a rooftop café in Selfridges, earning minimum wage but getting seriously generous tips. God knows where they went every week. (Answer: the restaurants, bars and pubs in and around Soho).
I felt like I was living the dream. The bright lights, busy streets and lively energy of the city were exhilarating. As Gen Z would say, it was next level. I was totally in love with it all for the next six or so years, climbing the ranks at a luxury watch company in Mayfair. I made some incredible friendships (many still going strong) and became a dog mum (it’s amazing how friendly people can be on the tube when you’re carrying a puppy).
And I finally had my weekends back! That Friday feeling and those Sunday lie-ins never lost their charm. But, slowly, London did.
As every big city dweller knows, despite the excitement, London life comes with its challenges. The tube delays were frequent and frustrating. The cost of a flat white and a croissant was staggeringly steep. The lack of personal space and friendly faces was, quite frankly, depressing. I was ready for a new job, a new place, a new routine. I was ready for change.
As I entered my late twenties, I started embracing a slower, healthier and more balanced lifestyle. I went freelance (check out my post on why) and not long after, Covid-19 hit. While my work didn’t skip a beat (thank you, remote working!), keeping a long-distance relationship afloat during lockdowns, police warnings and restrictions was another story. So, I took the leap and moved to Manchester for love. It also meant I was closer to a few friends for those “maximum 2 people” meet-ups (avoiding park benches to steer clear of fines). After three very happy years in Chorlton, our rental contract ended. So, what did we do? Put everything in storage and took off to travel around Mexico and Costa Rica of course! That adventure deserves its own blog post…
But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. And let’s be honest, living out of a rucksack in the UK isn’t quite as exciting as it was on the Oaxaca coast. After spending so much time outdoors, we knew we wanted to be closer to nature than city life allowed. Having grown up in Derbyshire, it felt like the perfect time to give it a try as an adult. And here we are—six months in, looking forward to our first winter in the Peak District.
Moving from the bustling streets of London to the peaceful landscapes of the Peak District over about a decade has been a transformative experience. I’m glad to have followed my instincts and embraced a more intentional pace of life. My work has played a big role in making this possible—the flexibility of freelancing has been a game-changer and I’m super grateful to be able to work remotely. The stunning landscape around us now has certainly sparked my creativity, personally and professionally. While we may not stay here forever (we’ve talked about living by the sea or even abroad) right now, the Peaks truly feel like home.
