City lights still beat pals’ rural pads

LIVING in the middle of a busy city was, until recently, a dream come true. It’s not New York or Paris, but Glasgow has its charms for a 20 or 30 something.

I first moved from the Central Belt into a student flat at 19 and loved that I could order takeaway at all hours, walk home from clubs and finally lay claim to being a Glasgow girl. My ego soared to the height of a tenement ceiling when talking to friends who’d settled down “back home” (all nine miles away) – they just didn’t understand the buzz of the big city.

Some of us have been forced to rethink that recently; working from the confines of a stuffy flat, unable to get out as much during lockdown and cursing the day we ever said: “I can always go sit in the park if it’s nice out.”

Hindsight’s a wonderful thing – but I doubt anyone was preparing for a pandemic when we chose our living spaces. Having done the same circuit over and over on my daily walk, I could describe these streets like the back of my hand – I just couldn’t sit down on them. I could point out which homes have beautiful gardens or breezy balconies – mainly because I’ve been cursing them upside down.

My friend lives in a converted stable in the middle of woods and, from the wellies to the labradoodle, it’s a rural dream. Her lockdown routine has centred on scenic dog walks and discovering paths she’s never found before.

It got me thinking: would I trade the city for the quiet life, or even a house in the suburbs with a bit of garden?

While longing for a break from the four walls of my flat, it’s fair to say my judgment is skewed. But I must say, one of the best feelings in recent weeks has been seeing the city come to life again – and it’s a movement I still want to be part of.

Friends in the country may have had their peace and quiet but life in scenic spots isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – ask the rural residents who face invasion from city dwellers the minute the sun shines. Unless it’s all yours, there’s no way of keeping the place to yourself.

And so having spent months avoiding each other, why not embrace the notion that, perhaps someday soon, we’ll be – and might even enjoy – being surrounded by other folk?

There’s joy to be found in all that cities will have to offer as they pick themselves back up post-lockdown. I’ve missed pubs and restaurants, honking horns and heavy traffic, and the bustle of busy streets on a sunny day.

I miss those things that might annoy people about city living regardless of where you’re from – and I hope I appreciate how lucky I am to live here when the world finds that “new normal”, because I’ll never take a midnight snack or being able to walk home from a gig for granted again.