So in a moment the direction of my life changed for ever and I decided to move to Glasgow. I'd been in the same job for fourteen years and I'd loved it. I earned over fifty grand a year, had ten weeks holidays a year, and a boss who supported me and appreciated me. I did think I'd still be there when I was seventy. Luckily my bosses son lived in Scotland, and he could also see the attraction, and he was pleased for me when l handed him my notice. I don't think he would have been quite as happy if I was moving to one of our competitors in London though.
My flat was put up for sale, and I was amazed to find out it's value had tripled in the eight years that I had lived there.
I flew up to Glasgow for a week at Easter to do a reccy for flats, and job prospects. I knew that in a way I was really retiring from the world of fashion, and everything I had trained for, but that it was also a new chapter in my life with new challenges.
The property law in Scotland is different from England and I did come unstuck once. At Easter l saw a beautiful sandstone flat opposite the art school. It was priced at offers over £85k, since my flat in London had been sold I decided I wanted it, and had a full survey. Sadly someone else also wanted it as well, and it went to sealed bids of offers over 85 thousand. I had to pay for a solicitor as well as the survey, and I was gutted when I missed out on it. It was one of the reasons why I eventually went for a new flat, you could go through the same torment ten times, and I know people who did, each time paying for the privilege.
I already had a childhood friend up in Glasgow, Eleanor who was from Lanarkshire and was now a dentist down in Port Glasgow. She kindly said that I could stay with her whilst I found my own flat when I moved up there.
So two days before 9/11 I moved to Glasgow. I had no home, everything was in storage, and I had no job. What I did have was the knowledge that I'd enjoyed my twenties and most of my thirties in London, but that it was time to move on, mentally and in this case physically.
To be continued.
My flat was put up for sale, and I was amazed to find out it's value had tripled in the eight years that I had lived there.
I flew up to Glasgow for a week at Easter to do a reccy for flats, and job prospects. I knew that in a way I was really retiring from the world of fashion, and everything I had trained for, but that it was also a new chapter in my life with new challenges.
The property law in Scotland is different from England and I did come unstuck once. At Easter l saw a beautiful sandstone flat opposite the art school. It was priced at offers over £85k, since my flat in London had been sold I decided I wanted it, and had a full survey. Sadly someone else also wanted it as well, and it went to sealed bids of offers over 85 thousand. I had to pay for a solicitor as well as the survey, and I was gutted when I missed out on it. It was one of the reasons why I eventually went for a new flat, you could go through the same torment ten times, and I know people who did, each time paying for the privilege.
I already had a childhood friend up in Glasgow, Eleanor who was from Lanarkshire and was now a dentist down in Port Glasgow. She kindly said that I could stay with her whilst I found my own flat when I moved up there.
So two days before 9/11 I moved to Glasgow. I had no home, everything was in storage, and I had no job. What I did have was the knowledge that I'd enjoyed my twenties and most of my thirties in London, but that it was time to move on, mentally and in this case physically.
To be continued.
