Flights of Fancy

I was just talking to a friend about what our plans are for the weekend.  As it’s likely to be warm and sunny we both agreed gardening and barbecue would be the likely outcome – but we know our plans could change.  The weather might break, relatives might descend upon us unexpectedly.  Who knows?

So then we got to talking about popular TV shows, where the family in an inner city in the UK decide to sell up and move abroad, a place in the sun, living the dream.  What are they hoping to do when they get there?  Well, we’ll buy a couple of bikes and do them up, and cycle to the village and buy some bread and cheese, and we’ll hang out in the local tavern and drink rustic local wines and everything will be lovely.

That, my friend, is a flight of fancy.  It’s what we’d like to think we’d do – but if you’ve ever read “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle, you’ll soon realise reality can be a rather rude changer of plans.

What will likely happen is this:  You buy two bikes, do them up to about 50% of what you’d like, but your language barrier means most of the bits you need cannot be bought.  You’ll cycle to the village, but it’s further than you thought, and the speeding locals come dangerously close, and by the time you arrive you’re too exhausted and dirty to want to shop.  You’ll bowl up at the local tavern but the locals distrust strangers – especially those from the UK with their dirty clothing and half renovated bikes.  You cannot understand a word they’re saying, and the wine tastes dreadful because they give you the cheap nasty stuff.

6 months later you realise your pension doesn’t convert well to Euros, and you’re still paying UK tax, so you have to find work.  Your dreams of that little small holding, growing your own fruit and veg, a few chickens becomes a nightmare as you struggle to find enough hours in the day.  The garden looks more like a jungle, you’re still struggling with the language, and the barn you were hoping to convert into a holiday let has had its planning permission denied for the third and final time.  The local mayor no longer answers your calls, and even the bread and cheese has lost its charm.

That inner city life no longer seems so stressful.  At least most of the locals understood you, and the shops in the high street had what you needed, and you had a steady income – even if you were doing a job you were bored with.  “This is your Captain speaking!  FancyFlight 236 from UK will be losing altitude shortly and you may encounter some turbulence.  Please fasten your seatbelts and return all seat backs and trays to an upright position!”

But don’t lose heart.  All change is difficult to start with, and the greatest rewards often follow the bleakest of struggles.  So, when the unexpected relatives turn up, hand them a trowel and pop another couple of sausages on the Barbie – it’ll all work out in the end!