Urban frolic is now a thing of the past. For years I used to do shift work, and as I worked in the city, this gave me many opportunities for meetings in pubs with colleagues and friends. Those were keys to my social life. Later I extended this to keep in touch, with the same people, or people I had met in the last years before I retired. There is something congenial about meetings with friends in a city, before catching a train back home in the suburbs.
After we regained our freedom, and started travelling seriously, I gave up those old habits, as we took advantage of time to explore the various regions we visited. With few exceptions this shift in our tastes was a move from cities to country, on foot or on bikes, a renewed interest in photography, and only occasional visits to concert halls, museums or restaurants. From urbanites we turned into country creatures.
This sort of shift, relatively late in life, can be problematic. Old urban habits die hard, and giving them up is a little like radical surgery: one continues to miss the ablated organ. Yet, we found that there were plenty of non-urban alternatives, in the small towns, the villages, and the sheer pleasure of the open country. These adjustments take time. We have not moved, maintaining our sub-urban dwelling as our base. The Internet provided most of us with the means of communication, of sharing thoughts, of developing writing skills, and many others.
Walking in the country, camera in the bag, is now the staple diet of our outings, a radical shift from urban bars to country pubs. Writing this, I am wondering how many old habits we have given up, or at least relegated to random occasions.
Picture: Chris Ofili, Requiem, 2023 (detail), commissioned for Tate Britain’s north staircase. © Chris Ofili. Courtesy the artist. Photograph: Thierry Bal
Inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge of February 9, Three Things Challenge #M599, and today’s WP prompt
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