The reccie ... Day 3

The morning of Day 3 looks a bit scary … the roads are covered with snow. Our B&B is up a little road from the main road, and it’s a fair gradient. We pack up, get brekkie and head out to brave the weather. Fortunately it’s quite sunny and no longer snowing, and we make it down to the main road without skis. Despite Hubby’s mum’s insistent texts that we’re practically going to have to live in Scotland from here on in, we’re fine. Once on the main carridgeway it’s fine, one lane is still snow-covered but it’s a fairly sedate drive back. Until I say that I’d like to take the turn-off through Keswick, then Hubby actually heads towards Ullswater (there’s a reason – our friends are getting married there soon so we’re having a nosey), but when I realise that it’s added half an hour to our journey, I’m not a happy bunny. I want to cuddle my babies. They apparently haven’t missed us one bit, but I need big squashy cuddles. I’d gotten used to Scotland, to the different air, the laid back drivers, the breathtaking scenery. Coming down through the Lakes, through Skipton I feel a sulk coming on. Once we hit Bradford it’s settled in for the rest of the journey. I really don’t want to be here. The thought of living and dying in Birstall really depresses me. No offence to all the lovely folk who love Birstall, but it’s just not for me, and this weekend has confirmed it. We spoke to lots of people, native Scots and English “immigrants” alike, and all of them just cemented our reasons for wanting to move. The cost of living, the way of life, everything. Apparently we can knock 25% off our food bill. Hubby had a look at car insurance and can more than half it. And, of course, it's beautiful. That’s it then, we’re moving to Scotland!