Where we live

While re-scanning and cataloguing some old pictures I found myself thinking "What must it be like to live there?"  Here's a nice example, its Gold Hill in Shaftesbury. This much photographed tourist spot has a lovely organic feel to it. There is the impression that the houses slid gently down the hill until they came to rest in their present comfortable jumble, each leaning on the next.

While it must be nice to live in such a picturesque location, I imagine the constant flow of tourists and their clicking cameras must be wearing, and the practicalities of living on such a hill when winter brings snow and ice must be quite a challenge.

And here is a set of Victorian Alms Houses. I wonder what its like to spend your final years here. Is it like being in a Trollope novel, perhaps? I suspect the reality is not quite so idyllic, but I must admit the honey coloured uniformity of it does look appealing.

Now from appealing to appalling: This is the upper East Side in Manhattan. We stayed here for a few days, and proved the old adage that "New York never sleeps" to be quite true. No matter what time of night you look out of the window there were taxis, cars and ambulances driving to and fro. It never became quiet.


It struck me if you are born and brought up here, then this is what you consider normal... As a country lad, I found the whole Manhattan experience deeply alien.

So, the question remains: Which is home? The urban canyons of Manhattan with every convenience you might need within two blocks, or the shambling slopes of Shaftesbury?


I know which I would chose :-)