So many people … family, friends, readers of the blog … don't understand my complete lack of attachment to any of the homes I've lived in, it's hard to explain if you don't feel the same as I do.
We've lived in six different homes in six different parts of the UK in our sixteen years together, and before that I lived in a couple on my own and before that, seven with my first husband. Each one has been improved by me living there, even when I had no money I scrubbed and cleaned and made them better in every way I could.
But I never felt the pull to stay in any of them. I never put down the roots that so many people talk about. I do feel a pull to go back to the Van and today is the day I return, but to be honest it could be any caravan.
Maybe I feel more of a pull to the area it's in.
I'm good at making anywhere I'm given to live a good place to live. I can make friends, chat to strangers, make a home out of virtually nothing, learn about the building I'm in and how it functions and make do with the bare bones of living. The only thing that pulls me up short and confuses my head is excess. Too many rooms, too many choices, too much stuff, all of them make me breathe in sharply and look for an escape route.
I feel the need to escape a lot.
I just thought I would put this out there for you to digest, while I travel from one country to the next and return to my simple life.
My heart tells me I belong there … and you should always listen to your heart ❤
Oh, but I'll be driving a car, with clothes on … not hitchhiking naked!!