Why we moved to the Yukon wilderness (Neil's version)

Neil's version of events:
Winter 2011, Camberwell south London



I didn’t pay attention when I picked Louise up from Heathrow. She'd just come back from her annual Alaskan pilgrimage (she'd been visiting regularly since before we met). 

I was happy for her to go on her own. The frozen North wasn't my thing. I was more the large pilsener and bratwurst kind of traveller. 

When she mentioned some crazy offer to move to a homestead in the Alaskan wilderness it didn’t quite register. I was in the middle of organising a conference at BSkyB, grappling to get 30 broadband lines installed at a hotel within 72 hours.


Traveller's delight - bratwurst
Louise and I met whilst rehearsing for a fringe theatre play. I was living in a dingy bedsit in Wimbledon and life wasn’t going anywhere. I'd made an effort to inject some sparkle by taking up acting. 

We hit it off (well, we fell in love) and I moved into her council flat in Brixton. A few years later we bought a mouse-infested place in Camberwell.

Me surviving the Camberwell winter
I had my own small marketing business but the projects fizzled out during the recession – thank you Lehman Brothers. I tried re-inventing several times, I even managed to win a project in India, but it wasn't sustainable. I kept myself busy, sitting at my computer twiddling my thumbs with no money coming in.


Some rare work in India
So I was delighted when I ended up landing a job at BSkyB as a communications manager. I was pitched into a glamorous world of 5-star hotels, champagne at the tennis and ballet at the Albert Hall. Wa-hey!


Hay Festival (broadcast sponsor, BSkyB)
Louise reminded me about the offer to move to the Alaskan wilderness. I had been thinking about a change but along the lines of another company, more responsibility, bigger salary etc. Not relocating to the other side of the planet to gut salmon and shovel dog shit, thank you very much...

I didn't fancy trading all my job had to offer for a bit part in a Jack London novel. 

So with great foresight and courage…I said no.

She called me a 'fucking moron'. But what about my great job, my career prospects, my bottles of champagne? I was livid with her for wanting me to give that up.

During the strained silences of the next 24 hours, I had plenty of time to mull things over. One memory loomed clearly out of the fog of sulkiness. 

My late father told me that as a young man he'd had the chance to set up a ranch in Patagonia. He said no and always regretted it. It dawned on me that our Alaskan offer really was a once in a lifetime deal.


Kiss, career consultants
And I could always find another corporate job, couldn't I? I took comfort in the words of Kiss:

'It's never too late to work 9 to 5'

So, eventually, I said…yes. Then had to lie down in a darkened room with a cool flannel over my head.


Me adapting to life in Alaska...




Comments

  1. And I've only just discovered bratwurst!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I didn't want to give up my corporate job in Manchester, BMW and suburban house, but without someone to share them with, they were useless. Now I have half the possessions, but an American wife and 1,000 x more satisfaction.
    It's all about the people you're with.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Steve, I think you're absolutely right. It clearly works for you guys - you're always having a great time in your FB posts! Thanks for taking a look at the blog and for commenting. All the best, Neil.

      Delete
  3. We moved from Hereforshire to about same latitude as you guys but in northern Sweden, a tiny forest hamlet. Minus 40 degrees etc, huge snowfalls and great beauty. After about 5 years we upped sticks and moved to France, better (!?)climate and much cheaper wine. After Brexit, now again thinking of returning to the cold North. We miss it too much, a different life entirely. The sooner the better far as I'm concerned. Love the blog. Keep 'em coming.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thank you for your kind comment and for getting in touch. Yup we often think of moving to France, or somewhere similar, and mainly for the wine, which we miss dearly. Good luck with your move, if you go, and glad you're enjoying the blog. Neil and Lou

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