Apart from a few comments on the cafe del nightmare blog, run by a very tall and brilliant friend of mine, I have never blogged before.

I was going to.

Was going to at some point soon. I thought it would be a good way to explain why someone who earns good money, works in an apparently aspirational business in one of the world’s most exciting cities, and lives in a small-but-beautiful house on the coast with my partner and two young children, would decide to sell up, move to France and become a peasant.

I was going to use words like: yurts, land, polytunnel, chickens, solar panels, solar showers, composting toilets, wild boar, reed bed, grey water, recycling, self-sufficiency, trampoline and hammocks.

I just didn’t know it was going to be today.

Funny how things turn out.

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