You know in those blockbuster movies when everyone is desperately fleeing from the imminent threat in a steady stream of laden vehicles trying not to glance in their rear view mirror to see the wall of water, exposed tectonic plates or alien spacecraft?
There is usually one set of brave or foolhardy souls travelling counter to the flow on a mission to save the planet.
That was a bit how we felt, as a family, when we moved back to the city to live.
Statistically we may not have registered, given our limited numbers, as a shift or trend to repopulate the city but in our own small way I feel that we have caused a bit of a ripple.
It was an entirely voluntary and structured decision some two and a half years ago to sell up in the leafy suburb and head for the bright lights and sirens.
If the migration in the opposite direction is, as suggested, a representation of upwardly mobile and aspirational living then I cannot understand how and why it took the 29 months to find a buyer for our traditional stucco rendered and colourwashed semi detached in a nice residential area.
I suppose the state of the economy, lack of confidence in current employment status and wages, increasing domestic fuel costs and that nagging fear of not being able to keep up with the neighbours would be a valid explanation for the gradual fading of the Estate Agents colours on our gate mounted flag board. We actually got through three of them, boards not estate agents, in our prolonged exposure to the market. One collapsed in a westerly gale, another is probably taking pride of place on a student bedroom wall and the third did us proud in attracting the attention and motivating the young couple who eventually did buy our house.
It was a bit of a wrench to leave after a happy 18 years.
There were the usual pencilled height markings for our three children on the lounge architrave, a few scuffs and indentations from the few tantrums arising from living at close quarters (some from the children), abrasions on internal doors from our dogs, that dodgy bit of garden decking, a gaping hole where the boiler flue used to be but cleverley disguised behind a hanging basket and many other, what I call "character features" whereas others may call them defects.
We left them behind but hardly had time to reminisce as the Removers for the new owners were hanging about on the front path, keen to unload.
So, to the city.
My wife is from the place. I was bussed in to the area in the late 1970's and I admit, I lived in the nearest town but did develop an early affinity for the sights, sounds and attractions.
My first permament job in 1985 was in the city centre and apart from a couple of years "out of area" my livelihood and business has been generated by the activity of the occupants of the city and its outlying areas. I bought a share in an 1830's building slap bang in the city centre and that was my daily destination for 15 years until the company moved out onto a large business park on the edge of the urban area.
I had thought, more than a few times, about eventually living in the old office as it had been originally established as a town house but events transpired to thwart that idea.
There was a certain amount of peer pressure and expectation to just regard the city as a means of earning a wage or for a night out and so after 5.30pm on a week day I would make a strategic retreat to the cosy suburb of trimmed privet hedges and quiet enjoyment with the only disturbance being the firing up of a leaf-blower and the wafting odours of a gas fired barbecue.
We did become immersed in suburban life.
Local state schools were attended, we ran up a healthy account in the local newsagents, frequented the small group of local shops, displayed a Neighbourhood Watch sticker in the porch and were on nodding terms with at least most of our near neighbours.
It was otherwise a case of being permanently in the car to drive to the nearest larger retail outlets, take children to their activities, visit the wider family or in fact to do anything not on the doorstep.
I found this most soul destroying especially after racking up a couple of thousand miles of driving every week in the course of my work. The engine block never cooled from monday morning to the following sunday evening.
You recognise that feeling of being very much like a hamster on a perpetually rotating wheel and yet not actually making any forward progress.
Some simply accept it as a fact of life. It is after all a lifestyle even if it is not much of an existence.
Others over-react, sell up and occupy a Spanish Villa, French Gite or a Greek goatherds hut with a camper van in readiness if it doesn't work out.
Our decision to move to the city was pretty straightforward, really.
(to be continued........)
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