Category: UK : Bristol

Bristol. What an awesome city. But it’s time to say goodbye. I’ve been here long enough. I’ve ridden enough of your trails, drunk in enough of your watering holes, visited enough of your surroundings, met enough of your people … and while there is probably a LOAD more awesomeness I could get from staying, I have a greater urge to move on than I have to stay.

Deciding to make a big move to a different country means resetting a load of dials of life. The dial that shows “amount of new experiences” is going from medium to max. The dial that shows how many of the layers of the onion we’ve peeled back on understanding our the depths and nuances of our surroundings is going from somewhere near medium, back to zero. The dial that says “sociable times with long standing buddies” is going from high to zero. On one side of the coin, that’s why we’re doing this. To shake things up a little. On the flipside, we’re going to be missing a load of good stuff. We’re going to be back at base one for a lot of things, and we’re going to be navigating our way through a lot of superficiality as we meet new people, try new things, and get under the skin of a new country and new society. But the compromises we make I think are going to be worth it. Onwards and upwards!

Today we loaded a whole stack of boxes into storage. Everything that we’re not taking with us is now in this small wooden crate, tucked in the back of a warehouse on an industrial unit near Bristol.  In fact it’s only half a crate – since we haven’t kept any furniture at all, our possessions are limited mainly to books, paintings and a few personal things. One VW Transporter load of boxes, to be exact:

We’ve managed to either sell or give away pretty much everything else. Hardly anything into landfill or the dump. Result.

People talk about moving house being an opportunity to clear out some old stuff. Getting rid of stuff is great, but easier said than done. We’ve moved a few times in the last few years and haven’t really managed to make it work. Somehow we still have a load of things we never use, even though we live in a teeny weeny small terraced house. This time, however, we’re doing it properly. Not only are we moving countries, but we’re also moving ourselves and our entourage of possessions onto a small sailboat which probably has about the same total floorspace as our kitchen. We’re having to think long, hard and deep about what we take with us – not only the space factor but also the fact that we’re going to be taking everything with us on the plane as excess baggage. To be honest though I think Rose is finding it a lot harder than I am; I’m not so sentimental about “stuff”, and I’m taking most of what I own – sports equipment and a few clothes. And the stuff we’re not taking? We’ve got a small storage container that we’ll stick some things into, and we’re trying to give the rest away.

But this move isn’t just about the unloading of stuff. It’s the start of a whole new adventure. Whilst we’re not yet “casting off the bow lines” and “sailing away from the safe harbor” in the real sense, to quote a clichéd Mark Twain piece, we certainly are in the metaphorical sense. We’re selling the car and the van. We’re renting out our house. We’re packing only what we know we’re going to need for the next few months. We’re saying goodbye to family and friends.

It’s a really strange time. We’ve both felt now, for quite a while, that our time is up in Bristol. Life has reached a point where we’re on a plateau. Slipping into a routine. Work, home, work, home, work, home, weekend. And for Rose, the same with the studio. The record’s not quite broken, and we’ve done pretty well to pack a whole load of stuff into an amazing British summer, but something needs a reset. I want to fill life with new experiences. Not just new remixes of the same, familiar tunes, but a whole new repertoire, a whole new set of instruments, and new ways to play them.

We’re stepping out across the Atlantic – not just the Atlantic but all the way out across the USA – to San Francisco. That should do the trick. Everything is going to be new. Well, most things. I’m keeping the same job, the Americans speak English (yes, I know, debatable) and it’s somewhere we’re fairly familiar with, but still, it’s going to be a whole lot of new stuff to learn. Bring it on! Right now I’m trying to figure out the US income tax laws for resident aliens (we’ll get some alien costumes at some point I’m sure). Then comes buying a vehicle, getting a driving licence, going to the dentist … all the stuff that here at home in the UK is so familiar is going to be new.

But all this is just a stepping stone. We’ll be on the road (or ocean) before long. We’re moving one step closer to really sailing away from the safe harbor. I can’t wait.

Erk! This gives me a jolt. Yes, we really are moving on. Like I need more reminders. The house is full of boxes, we’ve sold the sofa, booked flights and am going to show the van to someone tomorrow that will probably buy it. Changes changes …

It’s interesting how much more you are aware (or at least try to be aware) of your surroundings when you know you’re only going to be there for a short while longer. I guess that’s why travelling – moving from place to place constantly – is what it is. Everywhere you stop you’re a visitor passing through, so your eyes and ears are open to everything around you. Now that we have a pretty firm date planned for moving on from Bristol, I’m soaking up the area more than ever before.

I’m taking my camera everywhere now, capturing snapshots of the things that I hope to look back on as a reminder of my time here. They are by no means great photos, but they will be good memories. Last it night was sunny (again!) and I met Rose and Ant down at the Arnolfini for a drink and then some food. The Matthew was moored up alongside the cranes outside the M-Shed and looked good in the evening light, even though she’s getting well tatty now. With Lloyds amphitheatre stage left and the M-shed cheekily squeezing in at right, it’s a typical scene of the Bristol docks.

The usual crowd was out sitting on the wall at the Arnolfini, soaking up the sun and unwinding, with a Caribbean fella playing his steel guitar nearby. Good times.