Partire e un po' morire [To leave is to die a little]

 

 

Some of the Amsterdam group in January.

 The last weeks in Brugge seemed to be a continuing carousel of coffee, drinks, lunches, meetings and goodbyes! I enjoyed it all in spite of the bustle and concentration and despite saying Au revoir to friends who had been so important to me during my seven years’ sojourn in that lovely little town-which-thinks-it-is-a-city!! It was lovely but sad though, even so, I was looking forward to life in Bury St Edmunds which I hardly know. During 2021 I had a developing urge to live nearer to my family, a common reaction to life on the upper slopes of ageing, and, as the title of this first Bury Blog suggests, in spite of my choice, freely taken, to leave after a fairly significant period of being embedded in a life in Bruges, leaving was a jolt; a rupture; a slicing through comfortable and much-loved routines and the leaving of loved friends and groups.

Moving out.

Much as I felt stressed with all the pressures of leaving, [especially with the stream of Brexit-inspired bureaucracy via the Removal firm, the conduit, not the origin of the offending minefield of requirements] it turned out that the arriving was much worse. Wonderful to be surrounded by willing family helpers to Move In but the serious downsizing was something of a shock. Five ‘girls’ worked solidly on my behalf during the first week; 2 daughters, one who was over specially to join the fun from California!; two grand-daughters and one fiancee; huge help much-needed! In fact, they did it practically all! However, the flat which I already love, is around a third the size of my Bruges apartment, and required instant and further pruning of furniture, plates, jugs and in particular, books! I had sent ten boxes of books to Sue Ryder Books in Bruges plus given away a few more to friends. I had donated three bookshelves on the urgent advice of my daughter but suddenly here, there were impressive towers of books lining walls with nowhere to go!! I ignored the books for the first few weeks while I organised trips of furniture and other impedimenta to the local auction house and a variety of expendables to the nearby Cancer Research. I had quite forgotten the British penchant for charity shops; there seem to be dozens in Bury and a wonderful invention they are!! But this week, I have concentrated on winnowing the books which I am donating to Oxfam Books and Music, a very civilised feature of Bury cultural life. Each trip, I fill my old-lady-bag-on-wheels with books then drag it valiantly to Oxfam up what can only be called A Hill! I feel valiant in the execution but weighed down in the actual heavy heave!!

Moving in.

I am quite proud to have found in this first month, an odd job man; a plumber; a painter; an electrician; a cleaner; a hairdresser; a nail place; a curtain/blinds emporium; a beer shop [Dutch owner!] which delivers; a very kind neighbourly couple who are so helpful; and two possible friends! Many of the craftsmen have been located through my local daughter’s considerable list of skilled workers!! During the last few days, the apartment [without notable storage facilities it must be said] is beginning to resemble home, especially after two visits from my son and his wife, to hang pictures. The new normality is tiptoeing in! Meanwhile, there is no need to wonder why I am so tired. Tired but stressed no longer!

Ten days after I moved in

The woman who came a couple of weeks ago to measure up for blinds and a door curtain, offered to give my name and number to a very near neighbour in the same street as she thought we would ‘get on’. Such a generous thought and resulted in my meeting Catherine who invited me one evening to meet several of her friends. Great for a newcomer to the area and indeed I went with one of them to a lunchtime screening of The Duke with the perennially excellent Helen Mirren and Jim Broadbent. My First Outing and much enjoyed. Such a break from the seemingly relentless Reducing Strategy.

Some of the many beautiful ruins of the 10th century abbey
in the huge Abbey Gardens,

I have done two or three walks in the superb Abbey Gardens though still too tired to do the usual hour plus. I am only now discovering how much time is needed for the existential energy to resume its past level. A month or two at least. But I have had to go shopping and gradually I am learning the layout of the town. Immediately almost I was surprised and delighted at the open friendliness of people in the street. I do remember the same feeling in Wye where I lived for over 30 years and the surprise to discover there wasn’t the same spontaneity of spirit and openness in Bruges. Individually, the people are lovely but there is a distinct avoidance of eye contact in the street and an absence of greeting strangers as one passes, in Bruges, perhaps partly due to its long history of being invaded, conquered, repressed, taken over, plundered etc! And it does belie the essential friendliness of its people! But in Bury, to go out to buy bread at Woosters, early in the morning, is to encounter the ordinary, everyday friendliness of the town, given without thought or effort. Heart-warming. As were the displays of creativity glimpsed two mornings ago in the town centre.

Crochet cap fit for a post box

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And another.