It was two years ago today that, after two decades of life in the vast urban sprawl of London, I packed up only what I really needed and got on a flight to Belfast. I quickly settled in Downpatrick and it’s here that I’ve been ever since.
The circumstances under which I came back to Ireland are well documented in this blog so I see no need to waste space repeating the story. I only need to say that, far from ever regretting the hasty and unceremonious way in which I left London, I bless the day I returned to Ireland. Thursday the 31st of March 2011 is the day when I was welcomed back to the land where I grew up. I may have many memories of my life in the capital but I have no intention whatsoever of leaving Ireland again, not even to get any of the stuff I left behind in London. I’ve severed all my official links with England (with the exception of an ISA with the RBS and a dormant account at NatWest which I must get round to closing). The only BBC radio stations I listen to are Radio 3 and Radio Ulster and I haven’t bought a British newspaper since long before I even thought about coming back to Ireland.
My past is in London and that’s where I’ve left it. My heart is in Ireland and that’s where I’m staying.