You know big houses do exist in London. Of course, they do. But sometimes, you just forget. When you are in the midst of travelling in tunnels in little carriages, walking home to your abode that can fit no more than one big piece of furniture in a room, washing dishes in half a dishwasher ….. Yup, you forget that big things can exist in England. Other than castles of course, but that’s different.
Yesterday, I went to a friends’ place. They live just outside of London, and they had a huge house. Slightly bigger than a quarter acre block, close to half acre but not. Five bedrooms, conservatory, huge kitchen, swimming pool, a yard big enough that the trampoline looks small – enough rooms to get lost in. They had a nice crunchy driveway to drive into the house, too. Big staircase, big windows. Really lovely place.
Other than the house being nice, and me thinking “Wow! I’m never inviting them to my place again, coz I much prefer to come here and partay”, I’m really thinking that I miss “space”. I just miss that sense of space, of not being cooped up in all areas of life. I miss dual carriageways, big houses, backyards with a Jarrah outdoor setting, my Weber. I miss going anywhere I want with my car, and not worrying about traffic and being stuck on some highway. I miss driving unconsciously to my favourite yum cha restaurant. I miss good Chinese food. I miss Peking duck. I miss big houses. I miss moving from room to room to room to room to room to room wondering what to do. I miss not having to make the effort of getting to know people. I miss not having to look for a job. I miss curry laksa. I miss knowing exactly what I needed to do to get things done. I miss my comfort zone. That was very comfortable.
Yup, I miss space.