Several friends who were at first enthusiastic about moving to a remote mountainside for a few years later found themselves challenged (quite rightly) by aspects of the isolated nature of Hallett’s Mountain.
My vision of finding it a doddle to rent out dwindled.
The transient nature of the population of East London also had an impact. My early advert for a room with a view there met with a terrific response, but when I made it clear that I was looking for a place in three to four months time I was regarded with amusement at best and probably as a time waster. It seemed that, unlike the protracted negotiation towards tenancy in North Wales, flats near where I was going to work were on the market in the morning and snapped up by lunchtime.
I flirted briefly with a newspaper, who agreed that my offer of a house swap for two or three years would be of interest to its readers. I even wondered about selling up but was not ready for this yet.
Eventually though I was able to agree with a friend from my old workplace who was pleased with an escape from the madding crowd. In addition, a visit to the city resulted in the fortunate coincidence of a flat on its way to advert, free for two hours, at the time I was there.
By the end the last week of August I had everything I needed wrapped up in a spotted handkerchief, a sturdy stick in hand, and a pantechnicon (yay a non Microsoft word! 1-0) stuffed to the very gills in close pursuit. I set off for the streets paved with gold, a sentiment which of course if it were realised would have solved the problems noted.
Yet another economic migrant in the already busy streets.
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