Expat Chronicles, Finis: Farewell to Old Blighty

I’ll never forget the moment I knew we’d be moving to London, even though I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.

It was during a long drive north from our home in Charlotte, N.C., to New England, summer of 2017, on a family road trip to Boston, New Hampshire, Connecticut, and then New York City. Roughly 900 miles one way, then roughly 900 back. Plenty of time for family conversation.

The topic came up in the car, somewhere in southern Virginia, early on in the journey north. It was mentioned that there might be a job opportunity in London. It wasn’t a new job, just a different assignment with the company that brought in most of our income.

My first thought (which I didn’t share) was, Hmmmm. No. No no no no no.

We had a comfortable home in Charlotte, a comfortable life, two young daughters in school. I was an older Dad. I’d seen and done enough, moved around plenty. I had a nice routine going on in our city. I figured we were settled in.

I also knew, then and there, that we would be moving to London. I would offer some token resistance, but I knew, I knew….

I knew we would pick up and haul across the ocean to a new city, a new country, a different continent. I didn’t say as much on that long drive. Instead, I said, “I’m not saying no. I’m just saying, let’s think it over. Let’s weigh our options.”

But I knew….

About five months later – January 4, 2018, dead of winter – we were on the flight to London, bags packed, boxes shipped, house in Charlotte empty, ready to rent out.

*****

There was every reason not to move to London, at least from where I stood.

It was an expensive city in another country, across the ocean. We would have to adapt to new customs, new rules, different weather, a new culture, a different way of motoring (left side of the road, not right!).

As non-citizen expats, we would have to adhere to certain limitations you don’t face as citizens. We would be leaving family and friends and comfort behind, and embarking on an uncertain journey.

Most importantly, our daughters would be dropped into a new school system, right in the middle of the school year, with classmates who had different accents, and might look at our daughters as odd curiosities. I cannot tell you how many nightmares I had about that.

There were only two good reasons to move to London: 1) It was a great career opportunity, and 2) It was a great life opportunity. You couldn’t put a value on it. You couldn’t assess it in the normal way, checking off the little “pros” and “cons” boxes.

You just had to surrender to the call of the unknown, embrace the adventure, close your eyes and leap off the cliff. Because you knew, deep down, that this was a one-in-a-million shot – and saying “no” meant spending the rest of your life wondering why you didn’t say yes.

That’s how I knew we’d be moving here.

*****

We’ve now been in London for five-and-a-half years. It is home – every bit as much of a home as any place we have ever lived. Our daughters have lived in London longer than they lived in any home. They will be moving to a fourth home in about a week, back to the States, to northern New Jersey, just across the Hudson from Manhattan.

Hard as it is to believe, I have lived in our London home nearly as long as any home I have lived in over the past 46 years, since graduating high school. The first house my wife and I bought together in 2008 was the longest home I ever lived in, but only by a few months.

We’ve taken root here in London, forged relationships, gotten accustomed to the city’s various quirks and rhythms. We’re more or less Londoners, Brits, Europeans.

The city and country and continent have set up shop in our hearts, minds and souls. We are as comfortable here as we’ve been anywhere. We’re so comfortable now that the comfort has begun to rust a little. The routine has become so routine that it routinely drives me a little batty.

This is how you know you’ve found a home. When everything becomes routine, and you settle into it, and find comfort in it – just like everywhere else you’ve ever lived.

*****

Here’s something I never imagined would happen and can barely bring myself to admit now: I feel a certain kinship with London that I have rarely felt anywhere.

This seemed impossible a few years ago. There were things about London that felt out of place for me – the pubs where you couldn’t sit on a barstool at the bar, the lack of American creature comforts (like air conditioning), the early closing hours, the lack of good Mexican food. The TV license you must buy every year even though you pay the cable bill every month. The spotty service at restaurants and everywhere else.

And this: If you are not from here, you will never be from here, and some of the locals will let you know in a heartbeat.

But, you adapt. You get used to it. After awhile you just accept it, then embrace it, then find that you kind of like it.

What I mainly like about London – and one of the things I will miss the most – is that it minds its own business, and expects you to do the same. Brits in general are renowned for keeping a stiff upper lip (although some Londoners, frankly, fall short of the mark).

The UK doesn’t let its emotions out easily. It doesn’t feel the need to hug you or chat you up or make you feel special about yourself. It is polite, yes, and will engage in polite conversation. But it does not marvel at your very presence. You are just another somebody here – and thank God for that.

Back in the States – and in other places, I suspect – there is this constant hunger for affirmation. You need to mean something, to matter. You need to be hugged, appreciated, listened to, recognized. They’ve practically turned affirmation into a cottage industry in certain parts of the USA.

It has been so nice to be away from all that for a few years, I can’t even tell you. There is liberation in being totally anonymous, with no relationships to nurture, nothing to prove to anyone, no need to hug or be hugged. Nobody expects you to be anyone or anything, so you can be whatever you want to be, or nothing at all.

That can be a great feeling, my friends. Try it sometime.

*****

I don’t really know how to write an ode to London. I don’t know how to describe how it has impacted me. I do know there have been some magic moments.

Our daughters made instant friends the very first day they went to school here – because some very nice young girls approached them immediately and invited them into their circle. (It turns out that being American carries a certain bit of cultural cred here in the UK).

Our family has traveled all around Europe, capturing experiences and memories we never would have otherwise.

I’ve learned to enjoy going to pubs.

Susan has advanced her career, and I’ve managed to stay busy writing web content.

When I wrecked my knee in a bicycle accident a few months ago, and pedaled home in great pain, a couple of neighbors saw me and helped me inside, then offered to drive me to the hospital. They were out walking the dog. I told them thanks, go ahead and walk your dog, I’ll be fine (I really, REALLY didn’t want to wait in the hospital ER for seven hours).

There was something very British about the help they offered. They just wanted to see what they could do. They didn’t make a show of it. They assessed the situation and went for the best course of action. You need to get an ice pack on it, they told me – and they got an ice pack. You need some pain relievers – and they got pain relievers.

Let us drive you to hospital. No? Are you sure, then? Well, jolly good. Let us know if we can help.

(Full disclosure: They didn’t really say “jolly good”).

I may never see them again after we move. We’ll see London again, because we have permanent residency status, so we can come and go as we please, and we’ll return for visits.

London might have been the very place I needed in this time of life – that our family needed in this time of life. It was like hitting the reset button and starting from scratch.

London doesn’t need to hug you. But it did, anyway.

And we hugged it back.

Note: Susan took the photo for this blog. It shows the view by the Thames riverwalk, just a couple hundred yards from our home. That view is always spectacular, no matter how many times you see it, and we will miss it.