THE CURRAGH PLAINS

Balcony envy drove me to back to nature

FOR the last few months I have begun to loathe my neighbours.

Living on top of a shiny glass tower in the city centre means you can practically count the pieces of fruit in the kitchen bowl across the street, so nosiness eventually becomes a dull way to pass the time.

But the pandemic has made things different. Now I can see dozens of them out enjoying their balconies for hours on end. And I don’t have that little strip of outdoor heaven. The guy, sitting oiled and sizzling by his barbecue for the past three months, has particularly started to irk me.

Every time I leave the ball-and-chain of my laptop I see him slathering on more sunscreen or getting a cold beer from the fridge. I swear I can almost hear him goad ‘I’m getting €350 a week for this’.

And with the weather getting hotter, it’s enough to make any cooped-up city dweller crack. Since moving here in my late teens I have been a passionate advocate of city life. The convenience of the high street, the best bars only an elevator ride away and a glorious short walk along the river to work.

But now that’s all in deep freeze. I have found myself back at my parents’ door, telling them to fire up the garden grill.

Anyone who says Covid-19 is the great leveller has not moved between city and rural life. In lockdown you need more wide-open space, time lying outdoors in nature and living with fewer people on top of you to feel sane. The scores of people I have seen with backpacks, travelling down the commuter belt tells me that others feel the same.

Will my love affair outside the Pale last? Not on your life. As soon as the economy reopens, I’ll be back on top of the world, just not feeling so hemmed in.