Living with an American I am used to the thought that I may have a nomadic life, our family by its nature will be one with a foot on either continent. Without moving one extended family 3,000 miles in one direction me and Mrs G will never both be ‘home’. We could lead a life where we jet back and forth between New York and the English Midlands, but sitting here looking out of the window suffering from jet lag shows I’m not cut out for the Transatlantic lifestyle.
We’ve just got home from New York leaving the bright lights of a double named non-sleeping city for the, well um, exemplary concrete architecture of Coventry. A couple of days ago I was sitting in a living room where the streets with a ‘th’, ‘nd’ or ‘rd’ in itheir name. I getting on the train to Grand Central instead of the London Midland to Birmingham New Street. I’m happy that we have set roots down but what if we were in a position to move around more. Where would I go?
Coming through the British education system means I am horribly monolinguistic, this would immediately rule out moving around large parts of the globe. Not from travelling to foreign locales, but from living there for a while. It would be very difficult to live and work somewhere that you couldn’t communicate with the natives. So this leaves me with a few countries such as Australia, New Zealand and North America. Which is lucky I guess as these are just a few of the places I would love to live.
In America I already want to live in New York, and do at some point in my life plan to spend some time there. Whether this is in five or fifty years is still to be decided. Before I can live there I need to pass the decision past two other people, Mrs G would jump with glee if I told her we were going tomorrow but she is not the most important person in this plan. The person who is going to have the greatest bearing on us moving to one of the five boroughs is the nondescript person in the Immigration Centre who has the power to let me in or throw me out.
I’m trying to convince Mrs G that maybe the West Coast is the place to be, I could spend a lifetime travelling around California (with the exception of LA, sorry any Los Angelesians but your city is crazy). If anyone from Google is reading this (and just for some SEO benefit GOOGLE GOOGLE GOOGLE GOOGLE) and you would like to employ a Brit with no qualifications but a love of your products then leave a date I can start in the comments below. The only problem is that Mrs G is not too keen on living in an area with seismic activity.
But travelling all the time but never settling must be, well unsettling. I like being able to put roots down, and even if I don’t use them that often it is nice to have some kind of stability to fall back on when times get rough. It’s the people that make a home and I am lucky that I have enough people to be able to lay my hat somewhere, no matter where that somewhere may be.
I just like to be looking out of my window at home, wherever that may be.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Through the Window.”
Go to the nearest window. Look out for a full minute. Write about what you saw.