Last week we spent a week in Cornwall at the lovely Coombe Mill. For those that don’t know about Coombe Mill its a little set of properties in the middle of a valley surrounded by fields with animals and a little stream running through it. I went to sleep at night to the sound of silence, no planes, no noisy neighbours, no cars. Just silence. And woke up to the sound of the stream and sheep.
I went for runs which involved seeing only a handful of people on roads that didn’t have pavements and with stunning scenery, not running next to busy main roads with cars, or the thames (which after running along the same stretch for 18 months is rather boring).
We spent time in little towns that featured pretty much only independent shops and not numerous brand names lining the high streets.
I have always loved cornwall. It just has a certain vibe about it. I fell in love with it for the first time when I was 17 and dealing with a very difficult period in my life. I found a total escape in Cornwall. A complete isolation where phones didn’t work and internet was patchy. And ever since then I’ve found that kind of escapism there. I needed it this year. I needed that isolation. Its unnerving at first but after a while you settle into that silence. My phone remained on silent the whole week and I deleted Facebook from my phone and iPad. I needed time to be cut off. To focus on the boys and on myself. To distract myself from agonising memories which have been haunting my recently.
Cornwall feels safe. When the terror level got upgraded the other day it didn’t phase me because Cornwall is like a little safe haven. Living so close to the capital and the countries largest airport though I worry.
Yesterday we came home. I have never wanted to stay somewhere as much as I did yesterday. Usually I’m the sort of person who is ready to come home after a week away. I wasn’t yesterday. I wanted to stay. Had I been a 10 year old I would have gripped the door frame and screamed at being made to leave. Thats what I felt like doing. Or laying on the floor kicking and screaming. I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t want to return to the sound of planes, the drone of the airport in the distance, the noisy neighbours. I guess being away I realised home isn’t home anymore. Nothing is keeping me here and its time to start looking at moving on. Home is simply where my boys are. As long as they are with me ti will be home.