Moving to the City is...

I grew up in a village in the Cotwolds, surrounded by hills and fields. Then I went to University in a small town by the sea, also surrounded by hills and fields. Needless to say, I'd never experienced living in the city until recently after I graduated.
So I thought I'd write a post about my first experience living in the city as a countryside girl.

Moving to the city is...

Learning to cross the road.
It seems like it should be pretty simple. But when you move to the city you realise there's an certain art to crossing roads.
There are those moments when you're waiting at the crossing and for a moment there are no cars, yet you still wait. I'm stood there thinking, 'the green man hasn't appeared, but technically I can cross....Should I risk it for a chocolate biscuit? What's even stopping me?' Then someone comes along (a long term city-dweller you'd assume) and walks over confidently. So then I follow in a hurried and nervous way. It's pretty hilarious when you realise most people do this. Crossing roads is really quite a collaborative process in the city, even between strangers. A couple of months later though, I even went so far as to cross over before I even got to a crossing...Crazy.

Getting used to the noise.
I say 'getting used to it', but the truth is, I don't think I ever will.
One thing that continues to perplex and overwhelm me is the sheer amount of noise a city can produce. One minute it's a siren, the next it's construction work, or a baby crying in the distance, and of course the constant hum of traffic which persists in the background almost wherever you may be. I think I preferred the perpetual sound of seagulls, to say the least.

Realising that a place feels smaller once you know your way around.
Cardiff is a small city. But when I moved here, I was like WOAH. I couldn't believe how endless the streets were, interweaving one another and always leading to more and more shops. But once I started to become familar with the area, I memorised the different routes between places, and suddenly the city started to shrink. A 20 minute walk to the centre really isn't that far.

Getting really strong legs.
If you're like me and you like to save money and be healthy, you'll walk wherever you can in the city. When I say 'can', I mean I'll happily walk somewhere that's under an hour away. I've gotta say, I feel pretty physically healthy compared to when I could walk 2 minutes to get to the nearest shop or someone's house.

Experiencing unexpected isolation.
There's something very lonely about living in a city, especially when you're an introvert. Seeing hundreds of different strangers every day certainly takes some getting used to. When you grow up in the countryside, you usually see the same strangers again and again. You often eventually become familiar with the people who pass you by. It's a close community. But being surrounded by thousands of people you'll most likely never see again, let alone speak to, can make you feel pretty lonely. It's especially important to find some form of community if you live in the city.

Commercialism....Everywhere.
It seems obvious, but the city is full of commercialism. There are shops everywhere I go. There are endless billboards and adverts. Almost everything is telling me to consume. Something, anything. Whether it be TV, food, clothes, social media, the world around me is suddenly subtly hinting at me to consume. And it kind of leaves you feeling more...empty, than anything. I can't say a walk in the woods ever had a similar effect.

Getting used the lack of nature.
I still wake up every day thinking 'why can't I hear any birds?' It's hard to get used to being surrounded by concrete, and the only green spots being parks. In the centre of Cardiff there's Bute Park and it's vast and beautiful. But you can still hear traffic and sirens, and there are people everywhere. Having grown up in the countryside, it doesn't quite match the sheer wildness and the peaceful solitude of pure nature.

A KFC Plastic Cup

Walking down the street I hear a crack and a crunch.
Plastic, of course.
I look back and it's a bike that has run over
A KFC plastic cup.
Then I look up
To glance at a tree for good luck.
Funnily enough, the tree is kindly decorated
With swaying bags in the wind,
Like streamers at a party
For the grand celebration of our success.
They're made of plastic, of course.

I walk with frustration now,
My head hanging down.
It's a sorrowful time,
A fearful one.
Who knows how many moments we have left.
I guess I won't have children.
I guess it might all end soon.
As if I needed anything else to take away my motivation
Because what is it all for now?
What was it all for?
Was it worth it?
That beef burger you bought at the store?
Or that little bit longer it would have taken for you to put the plastic in the recycling
Or not buy plastic at all?
And was it worth it for the corporations
To make all this money and make nice things
That we want but don't need
Because life's such a bore
We need MORE MORE MORE.

But what is it all for?
If I won't get to hold my baby in my arms
And take her to her first day of school
And feel a love so strong I could only imagine
Because I'm not sure if there's a future here for her
And the future I imagined when I was a little girl
Shattered with the years of destruction.
It was a hot summer this year, how nice for us
But it was laced with fear
A bittersweet taste of the damage we've done.

I guess I won't have children.
I guess it might all end soon.

You might say I'm being dramatic,
But the evidence is right before us.
The bees are endangered.
The icecaps are melting.
The coral reef is dying.
The ocean is filled with litter.
Sea levels are rising.
And yet still some deny it,
And it's the denial that feeds it
What was it all for?
Was it worth it?