It’s October, and I’m sat in the autumnal garden of my parents’ home in rural Somerset, England. They are on holiday, and me and my husband are house sitting.
We’ve spent the week walking and wild camping in Dartmoor, paddling down rivers in our new inflatable canoe, and trying out all the local country pubs. Little do we know that our very British lifestyle is about to change dramatically.
“Shall we move to the country next?” I ask my husband. “Yeah, let’s make that happen next year,” he answers. We live in Bristol, a cool urban city, regularly voted the UK’s ‘best city to live in’. There’s always a bunch of stuff to do; new restaurants opening, innovative theatrical shows, music, drinks and political marches. It’s an awesome place. But we are country bumpkins at heart, and both want the rolling hillside on our doorstep. We love walking, cycling, the great outdoors. City life isn’t cutting it.
Monday morning and we’re back at work. My phone rings, it’s my husband. “Soooo, how do you fancy moving to Singapore?” I’m shocked. What? When?
Turns out, his company have a rough idea of relocating him to Singapore for a couple of years, and want to know if we’re keen. They’ll give us a few weeks to consider.
It takes us all of 24 hours to go back to them with an enthusiastic and resounding, YES! Then we wait….