BBC Theme: Rural Life

First posted 22 December 2013

Two weeks before I head to my childhood home in rural Norfolk for a new year holiday is a nice time to reflect on rural life. I’ve lived in Leeds for 13 years with the exception of one year back in Norfolk and away in France, another 6 months in France and 3 months in Oxford. For this 13 years I have lived in an urban idyll….ahem. Urban idyll, it doesn’t sound quite right.

Moving here from Norfolk was quite a change. I was born and raised in a small village and then at the age of 5 moved to a small town, all in the south of the rural county. I went to school in this town and socialised in this town, then I went ‘up city’ for sixth form.

Norwich is a small city but going to sixth form here was a great move for me. I was elated that I didn’t have to see the people from school that I disliked and I quickly made friends with some great people who were much more on my wavelength. I discovered music, drinking, clubbing and nicer boys. I did not perform academically but I definitely developed my personality and came away a more rounded individual.

What I didn’t realise at the time is that Norwich is still pretty rural. It is a really nice city, good centre, nice pubs and shops and a good atmosphere. But it really is quite different to Leeds.

My memories of rural life all come from before I was 19. I started working at the age of about 15, I had a number of jobs. I worked in a shop and in a restaurant, and as soon as I turned 18 I worked in a nightclub in Norwich called The Waterfront and in a local pub called The Cherry Tree. I worked so that I could afford my car and so that I could go out socialising in Norwich. Working in the club and the pub made me more outgoing and working in the shop made me realise that I NEEDED to get away from Norfolk, at least for a little while.

I chose my university options all on the basis of where they were located and ended up going to Leeds, over 200 miles away from my rural home. I’m not sure if I intended to stay here so long, I can’t remember if I thought that I would return to Norfolk after university.

Having said all that, I thoroughly enjoyed growing up in a rural setting. I spent the majority of my spare time horse riding, which taught me to swear and to be able to withstand pain. There’s not much more painful than the cold feet you get whilst mucking out, or the time that I was determined not to let go after I was thrown off on to the road.

Or that other time when my horse ripped open the blisters on my hands for the fiftieth time in a row, or the pain of a hoof to the calf, thigh or stomach. These things are painful, but you learn to hide the pain when your upper class riding instructor is bellowing – “JUST PULL THE BUGGERS F*%KING HEAD UP” or “HIT HIM WITH YOUR CROP”.

I was a member of the Young Farmers, which taught me how to drink, how to perform to a crowd and how to drive like a lunatic – well more specifically how to shut your eyes and cross your fingers when someone else is driving like a lunatic. I am still proud that I was part of the team from the Harleston Young Farmers that won the National Club of the Year award in 1998.

Living in the country is great, there’s a different pace of life, but that doesn’t mean that there’s any less enjoyment, people know how to have a good time. There are some positives and some negatives, obviously. There’s not much entertainment, you have to learn how to entertain yourself. Hobbies and things become quite a big deal and people are quite passionate about their pastimes that keep them occupied.

Rumours and stories spread quickly through the small interlinked gossipy population. Everyone knows everyone else, and you quickly learn that you can’t get away with much without the whole community knowing about it. I got a reputation in several villages for being the girl on the grey horse who quite regularly fell off the horse and ended up having to run through the country lanes to find him.

Often he’d have got himself stuck in a field, garden or farm yard and would be found eating cow food, or trembling in the corner of a pig sty (who knows why he hated pigs so much). Once he ended up in my friends farm and he found him and then rode him back to the stables. My mother used to get quite anxious as I would quite often ring her in tears telling her I’d lost the horse. Sorry mum.

I’m not sure if I will move back to Norfolk, I like to think that it would be a nice place to live, if I could find a job. At the moment I like living in the city. Despite it being very different to the place that I grew up, I like how multicultural it is here and I like how there’s so much going on. Even if I don’t always take advantage of all that’s happening.

I’d move back to be closer to my family and perhaps so that I was able to live a different lifestyle, one with dogs, horses and less traffic, but I’m not sure I’m quite ready to give up the urban life just yet. Maybe I couldn’t re-adjust to the small town life, maybe I’d miss the anonymity of living in the city, who knows, maybe I’d love it.

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