Moving to the UK for love

In which I convince someone to move from New York for a ring.

I know the exact distance I would go for love, it’s 3364.9 miles.  This was the gap between me and Mrs G when we first got to know each other. I was living in a flat in Birmingham (UK) and she was sitting in her apartment in Briarwood (NY).  The distance may have been large but all that separated us was one body of water.

Well one significant body of water and the bureaucracy that involves trying to begin a relationship with someone living in a different country. From the rantings of the more right-leaning media you would think the immigration system in the United States or Kingdom was as easy to get into as Republican race for President (*Boom* Satire).

In fact the question isn’t how far I would go for love but how hard will I work for it.

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Looking out my window at home

In which home is where it’s easiest to live.

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?

Continue reading “Looking out my window at home”