Stephen, Annie and their dog Miko

After 28 years as a local government officer, I finally fell victim to the latest round of re-organisations in 1998 and my wife and I found ourselves looking at our redundancy money and wondering what to do next.

We decided to move to Ireland, as we'd been many times on holiday and had made many friends there. We bought a part-finished house in West Cork and got enough done on it to move into our new home in 1999.

When we were doing it up, the question most often asked was: 'holiday house, is it?' When we explained we planned to live in it, no more was said. There was no diatribe against people who do have holiday houses, but it was obviously good for the community to have people living there year-round.

Life is very different here, and there are many things that we don't miss at all, starting with the M25. From our house we can see Roaring Water Bay with Jeremy Irons' castle at Kilcoe and, at night, the flash of the Fastnet Lighthouse which makes the Shipping Forecast so much more personal.

If you don't like the smell of silage, you won't like living in the country - fortunately I quite like it 'Priced off our own patch'

Although we did go into this with our eyes open, you never can completely prepare for how big a shift in lifestyle it is. The trouble starts when people arrive expecting an idyll and are not prepared to make any compromises.

When you're on holiday in places like County Cork or the Scottish Highlands, it's lovely. But when you have to pay the electricity bill and dispose of your rubbish because there's no council collection, that's the nitty gritty of life.

They forget that you can no longer stroll down the road to pick up a pint of milk - we have to get in the truck and drive 10 minutes to the nearest village. They forget that there's cow muck and silage. And it's much noisier than people expect, what with tractors and milk tankers roaring up and down, and dogs and cattle.

I've seen people come unstuck over this - they get very attached to the things they left behind and go on and on about what they miss. So why did they come, I ask myself?

What to do next?

After a frenetic career, I now do what I call a 'kaleidoscope working' - I drive a truck for a friend, I build fire surrounds, I write reports for local and international organisations. When I've got nothing lined up, I work on the house or tackle the garden as we've got one and a half acres of land.

Dream of fleeing the crowds?

It has taken a while to get used to this. I'd forgotten how comforting it is to have a monthly pay cheque - now I work for myself, there's always the question of where the money's coming from.

Add that to the stress of moving from town to country, and sometimes I think 'what have I done?' For everything familiar has gone. That's what tends to make people panic.

Annie and I do find that we need to talk through the difficult times and question whether it's because we've moved that things are hard. That helps us remember that bad things happen wherever you live - and it reinforces that what we like about living here is enough to soldier on.

It's not all lambs and sunshine

My worst moment came in the first year when we were laying concrete floors. It was late and it was raining and we had no electricity so had a generator to run lights here and there. The job just looked endless and I really had to come to terms with the fact that our move was real and we just had to get on with it.

The best bits are days like today - the sun's shining, the garden's coming along, the air is clean. I look around and think this is my home.

It does take time to truly get to know it. Many visitors are enchanted by the landscape and decide to relocate to the countryside. Some find it's more of a culture shift than they can handle and move away again. We'll be staying.

Send us your comments, using the form below:

Well done on sticking with the big change. I have contemplated this many times, and while the country smells don't bother me, the question of income is always a difficult one, and it was good that you should bring up the subject to the front of people's minds... this isn't just a long holiday after all, but a total lifestyle change.
Dave Hart, London, UK

A man moved out into our VERY rural area from Belfast a few years back & tried to insist all the local farmers put some kind of nappies on their cows to stop his nice shiny BMW getting covered in manure. Two months & he was gone. There are some people who should just stay put in the cities. Did lead to a wonderful - if very crudely drawn - local ad campaign promoting Pampers for cows though.
Sin�ad, Northern Ireland

I moved from the city to the Scottish Highlands two years ago and it's the best decision we ever made. We don't drive and so putting up with other people's pollution (as well as receiving a broken arm from a hit and run driver) became too much. We now live in a small village and cycle or use the bus for transport, we grow many of our own vegetables, keep hens... I work from home as a web programmer and that means I can be around to watch my two-year-old girl grow up. Nothing is perfect (the public transport is atrocious) but this is as close as I will ever get to "the good life".
Fergie Meek, Scotland

We've moved to Cornwall with our three-year-old and there's nothing like it. The communities in the valleys around us are fantastic - very welcoming, very interesting people and very encouraging. Don't just buy the house - buy into the people and the place, then the success of the move is up to you.
Eoin, UK

All that gets me through city living is the thought that one day, we may be able to move to the country away from the students that keep me awake at night, the car crime, the traffic jams and the lack of community spirit. I can't wait for the smell of silage!
Abi Johnson, England

Friends from London moved to my area of the country a few years ago, bought a cottage at the end of a farmyard and decided it was the perfect place to live. They then spent the next couple of years complaining to the farmer about the noise of the cows, milking parlour (cows get milked at 6am and 4pm), the mud, smells etc. They soon moved on. If you intend moving, make sure you know what you're letting yourself in for. It's noisy, dirty and isolated. Our countryside is a wonderful place to live, but it doesn't suit everyone - and it won't change if you find you don't like it.
Christina, England

I grew up on a Pennine sheep farm, and have spent the past 10 years in urban settings across Europe, currently inner London. My childhood was entirely car-dependent due to the distances between properties, and despite the wide open spaces, we rarely used them for pleasure because of the dire moorland weather. I spend far more time strolling on commons than I ever did at home, and now ride a bicycle everywhere.
Phil, UK

My husband was raised in the country, I was raised in the town. After some years in the town we moved to a rural market town and I love it. The people are more friendly, the air is cleaner, the customer service is the best there is. My only complaint - it takes so long to get anything done because everyone stops to talk with you. Long may it continue.
Su Peplow, UK

I took redundancy from a well paid job in Berkshire to move back to Cornwall. I earn 1/3 of what I earned before but I own a cottage, keep chickens in the back garden, actually know my neighbours and love it. Yes I do get stuck behind tractors on my to work, transport is an issue along with the tidal influx of emmits (tourists), but I drive out of work every afternoon, see St Michael's Mount and the sea, then drive through some lovely countryside back to my quiet cosy cottage. Beats living in Bracknell any day!
Helen, Cornwall

I moved back to north London a year ago after 22 years in a small isolated village and I do not regret a thing. No more getting in a car to do everything and each journey being long and time consuming. Now I can walk to the shops and leave home and be looking at the Titian exhibition in 45 minutes.
David Roberts, UK

I grew up on the outskirts of a small village in North Wales for more than 20 years. The nearest neighbour was half a mile away down the hill, the main road a mile away. There was no mains water, but a man-made dam (so pure water). When there was a kitchen fire, the fire-fighters struggled to climb the fifth of a mile lane to the house. I now live on the outskirts of Liverpool, and after nearly 6 years of suburbia, continue to find it far too busy and hectic. I am a true country person and will return home by the end of the year.
Anne M Jones, UK

This only highlights a few of the downsides about country living. He didn't mention living with hordes of tourists that clog the lanes with their cars and the ditches with their litter. There isn't much for youngsters to do and most of them would rather be in a town with their mates. Factor in the lack of public transport and the Chancellor's aim to put up the cost of motoring, rising crime in virtually unpoliced areas, and rapidly escalating house prices due to townie relocations, and it's often no longer the environment you thought it was.
Jim Thompson, UK

Jim raises an important point and one we took into consideration in deciding to move to West Cork. Tourists can ruin your summer, yet we don't get such huge numbers here as many parts of the UK. However, they do provide valuable local income and constitute a significant part of the local economy. The war in Iraq has meant that many people have decided not to travel abroad, which has a knock-on effect on local businesses.
Stephen Sage, Ireland

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