To be honest I just miss Plymouth. I miss my little walks across CP, through town and up to the Hoe and Barbican. On a hot day there's really nothing better. I miss going to Argo (obviously). I miss Dartmoor, I miss the smell of Crebers in Tavistock, I miss being so close to the South Hams and Cornwall, I miss hearing the ship's horns on New Year's Day, I miss the snooker club on Mutley Plain (Belgrave?) I miss there being so many things to do on any given day that I couldn't decide.
And those are just the things that still exist. I miss the Arcadia toy shop and Purple Haze right next to it, I miss the butchers underneath that used to sell delicious meatballs, I miss Really Good Records, I miss The Revival restaurant where I had my 18th birthday party (it's some kind of Mexican thing now), I miss me nana.
I was going through a phase of what Alan Partridge would call "severe fed-upness" when I decided to move to Salisbury, a decision I now deeply regret. It may be a picturesque city, and there's a lower chance of me getting my head smashed in by gangs of youths (there are barely any youths here, let alone gangs), but my f**king god it's dull. There's one music venue in the entire city but the next gig isn't until 22nd Feb. And it's a Fleetwood Mac tribute act. Normally they've got some twee middle-class bullshit like Maddie Prior or Jools Holland. There's only so many times you can stare at a Cathedral before it just doesn't move you any more. I could stare out from the Hoe forever and never tire of that view.
My life now just seems to be a collage of grey on beige. Salisbury is such an unremittingly boring place that my brain is turning to soup. I want to get back to Plymouth but I don't know how, because the jobs market isn't much cop.
Sorry for the rant but I hope this serves as a warning for others who are thinking of leaving Plymouth behind - REALLY think about where you're moving to and why.