Yahoo News 'It's now or never': why growing numbers of singles are fleeing cities for a new life in the country
As anyone who has stayed put knows all too well, lockdown has triggered an exodus to the countryside as working from home created the opportunity for some of us to turn our longing for a simpler life into a reality.
Our collective re-evaluation of how and where we want to live resulted in the busiest July and August the property market has seen for years. Of course the nine-month stamp duty holiday on the first £500,000 of any purchase played a part, but across the UK, agreed sales for the two months up to mid-September were up 58 per cent on the same period last year.Country life holds an obvious appeal to families in search of gardens, community, and better schools. But among the thousands of city dwellers upping sticks in search of a better life is a hidden cohort of home-movers. These are the many singletons, from young professionals to midlife divorcees and widowed retirees, who are also looking for a better life in the country.
Last year, according to the Office for National Statistics, there were 8.2 million people living alone in the UK. And lockdown has inevitably forced a reassessment of how much fun city living actually is when you can no longer take advantage of its convenience and crowds of friends. As a result, many are now determined to change the way they live for good.
A report from PricewaterhouseCoopers finds that 34 per cent of 45- to 64-year-olds living in London “expect to move to a different region, outside of London, the next time they move”, a 16 per cent increase on pre-Covid-19 intentions. And with many people continuing to work from home, and more facing redundancy and hoping to retrain or become self-employed, estate agents expect the singles exodus to continue.
“It’s happening for a variety of reasons,” says Jonathan Hopper, CEO of Garrington Property Finders. “Mainly price and quality of life – the big tie to the city has often been ease of access to work for singles, but employers are accepting that you don’t need to be in an office – other in-office roles are going part-time, and people are willing to tolerate a long commute as a trade-off for living somewhere beautiful.”
Most clients, he adds, are looking for more space, outdoors as well as in. “We’ve got a client in a busy city on the south coast,” he says. “She wants to move for a garden she can put her time and effort into.” For many singles, he adds, the sense of “now or never” is key.
“Many of our single clients are in the 50-plus bracket,” he says. “It could be a divorce or widowhood that’s triggered the move, but often they tell us they were planning to do this in 10 years and gently unwind towards green pastures in retirement. But now that they can work from home, they can have what they were planning to have in retirement a decade early.”
A Rightmove survey found that the area around Dartmouth in Devon was hugely desirable, as was Lightwater in Surrey, where buyer searches were up 130 per cent in September, year on year. Searches for Bruton in Somerset and Chipping Campden in the Cotswolds rose 111 per cent – almost double the interest in the UK’s largest cities since lockdown began.
According to Miles Robinson, head of mortgages at online mortgage broker Trussle, a quarter of UK adults are considering relocating in the next couple of years. “Over 41 per cent of Londoners are planning their next move within two years and it’s easier to secure a mortgage on a solo income in the countryside.”
As for the fear of not meeting anyone in the depths of the forest, online dating has solved that, with sites such as Muddy Matches and Country Loving dedicated to helping single country-dwellers find love. For those not in the market for romance, getting to know the neighbours and being part of the community often feels far less lonely than living in the city.
Jonathan Self, 48, a photographer, he is about to move from Oxford to Devon
A few years ago my wife and I were working every hour in London, with crazy rents despite our well-paid jobs. We were earning £75,000 between us, but living in a one-bedroom flat. We moved to Oxford but it was no cheaper, and still a bustling, busy city. Then we split up.
The break-up was very painful, but a mini-breakdown led me to therapy and I finally had an epiphany about how I wanted to live – somewhere quiet, near the sea, where I could grow my new project, the world’s first mindfulness-based photography course for parents and children (cultivatingwonder.co).
I have a friend who is a vicar down in Plymouth, and last year, I went to stay with him. The life there is based around the outdoors – kayaking, paddle boarding, cycling – and it really appealed. I’m moving at the end of the month to the edge of the countryside, near Plymouth. It’s not quite the middle of nowhere, but life will be very country-oriented. It’s a radical change – I’ll be living on my own for the first time in my life, as I’m currently staying with a friend. My new home is two minutes’ drive from Dartmoor and while I already know one or two people, I’m looking forward to meeting more. I think making friends has to happen organically and luckily, I’m a natural joiner-inner.
It’s a completely different vibe to the city; there’s a more alternative culture and a slower pace of life there, and you don’t have to buy into the middle-class, masculine, competitive culture. I am looking forward to just being peaceful, surrounded by my books and paintings, and doing work I’m excited about.
It’s not a priority to meet someone, but I’m not worried about it. I think it will happen when the time is right.
Rob Seddon, 42, a wine importer and landscape gardener. Originally from London, he moved to Chinnor in south Oxfordshire in 2018
I have moved around a lot over the years. I’ve never been married – I came close once but then my mum died and my life fell apart a bit. I went off to Australia for a while, moved back, and then I lost my dad, too. The losses made me think about the need to enjoy my life before it was too late. I walked out of my well-paid corporate job and went to work in a wine shop, which I’d always wanted to do, before moving to Pitlochry, Perthshire, for a year. I was dating a girl who lived in Cambridge and I thought we’d settle down, but it was too hard for both of us at a long distance.
Soon after, I remember sitting up late, drinking a bottle of wine, and I saw a Facebook advert looking for people to appear on Second Chance Summer, a TV documentary based in Tuscany, with 10 people working on changing their lives. I did the show, and when it finished, I sold everything that wouldn’t fit in my car and moved to Tuscany with my dog, Jackson, a springer spaniel.
I established contacts to buy wine, and then two years ago, I moved to the rural Home Counties to set up my business somewhere beautiful. I now live in a barn conversion near Chinnor, a small country village. It’s ideal for walking and mountain biking, there are lots of lovely country pubs, and my best friend lives not far away, in Wendover.
Because I had Jackson when I moved, I wasn’t worried about a social life – he was my other best friend but, sadly, he died in the summer, and now I’m properly on my own, but I’ve not had time to feel lonely.
During lockdown, I worked as a landscape gardener to keep cash coming in and the rest of the time I import wine from small farms in Italy and run a little wine club and events. Most nights after work I’ll make dinner, sit down with a glass of wine and collapse on the sofa.
I’m at that age where a lot of people are married with kids, but I find online dating a bit odd. I am an old romantic and think a partner will fall out of the sky at some point!
I love the peace and quiet here – and everyone has dogs, which is obviously a bonus. Next weekend, I’m going to see a puppy that might come to live with me – I think Jackson would approve.
Sass Allard, 47, a business consultant, she moved from London to Truro in 2018
I was born and raised in London. By 2018 my work was insane. Every few weeks I’d fly to the US and when I got back I had a crazy social life. My sister passed away a few years ago and, aware of my own mortality, I was trying to pack in even more and got completely exhausted. I took six weeks off in Morocco and when I got back, I thought, “how can I recreate that calm in the UK?”
I now live near Truro Cathedral in a little cottagey terrace, with a wood burner. It’s got everything I expected from living in the country. Five minutes up the hill, I’m in the heart of the countryside, and it’s gorgeous. I’m surrounded by beautiful beaches and hills.
At first it was bliss. I nested for a few weeks and felt wonderful. Then the London side of me crept back in, wailing, “but there’s no Deliveroo!” I ended up going back to London a lot to see everyone, which defeated the whole object of moving down here. Eventually, I joined a few groups and made friends. It takes a bit longer to get to know people here but once I opened up, people were so warm.
I hadn’t really thought about the “being single” side of things. People settle down quite young here and those who move in are generally married with a family. But maybe it’ll just happen, and if not, my life is good anyway.
Being in the country has taught me so much. I’ve learned to slow down and spend time on myself instead of running all over the place. I’ll go for a long walk, or swim in the sea, rather than cramming in 40 minutes at the gym. I’ve become more spontaneous, too, purely because the countryside is so stunning. Some days, I get up early and drive around just to look at it. It’s good for the soul.
Eve Menezes Cunningham, 45, a therapist and author. Last summer she moved from Essex to Westport, in the Republic of Ireland
I’m London-born and grew up in Essex, but 18 months ago I moved to Co Mayo, where I knew nobody. In early 2019 I was getting worried about Brexit and its consequences and so, as I’d always had an Irish passport (I’m of Indian-Irish heritage), I decided on a new start. I knew I wanted the sea and mountains and a friend suggested Westport. It’s gorgeous, and there are lots of independent shops near beautiful countryside.
After staying in a studio for a few months, with my cat (Rainbow Magnificat), I bought a house a 20-minute cycle ride from town – I don’t drive. It was a shock to the system and I did feel overwhelmed at times, doing everything alone. I was lonely at first, but thanks to Facebook I found local groups; people were very patient with me asking all sorts of ridiculous questions, and I soon settled in.
Having initially thought I’d lost the plot, my parents followed me to Westport earlier this year, and my brother and his girlfriend have moved to the next county. We all feel so fortunate to be here.
I now say things like, “I love my wheelbarrow” and “I need to get more mulch”, and other things the old me wouldn’t recognise. Having never had a garden, I now have a field – I’ve planted 26 trees. I’m more enthusiastic about life now, too, and I had to stay open to all sorts of things outside my control. The beauty around me has reconnected me with a sense of joy I’d lost.
I’ve been single for a while, and it would be lovely to meet someone. But even if I don’t, I’ll never regret moving here.
Lorraine McReight, 62, a hypnotherapist and trainer, she moved from London to Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire, this summer
I’ve been a self-employed therapist for more than 20 years, and I never stopped working. I began to recognise that if I didn’t ease off, I’d end up getting sick. I’m no longer a spring chicken. When Covid-19 struck I had to take my training and client work online, and it made me realise that I could actually work from anywhere.
My last relationship ended two years ago, but I’m not looking for a partner. I’m used to living alone and I like my own company, so I’m seldom lonely. I find people interesting –which is just as well, given my profession! – and I’ve always talked to the people around me.
I discovered Hebden Bridge when I visited friends and fell in love with the place. I moved here from Wimbledon this summer. It’s pretty rural, arty and crafty, full of little independent shops, and a bit hippyish. It’s probably more open to people from other areas than many rural communities – though as outsiders we are called “Offcumdens”! People are very honest, and help each other out. Everyone seems to know everyone, too, which is weird if you’ve lived in London most of your adult life and are used to anonymity. When I arrived in Hebden, I joined a book club and I made friends with the woman who’s decorated my home, so I have a bit of company and someone to have a drink with. I imagine my friendship group will grow the longer I’m here.
When I wake up, I see the tree-covered hills in front of me and when I sit on the green at the front of my home, I see hills surrounding me and my wild garden out the back. A walk by the canal is a joy. When I fully recover from a recent foot operation, I will get a rescue pooch, too. It’s much slower-paced here and that’s such a refreshing change.
