And we’re still in Bristol. Clematis is growing high around the ‘For Sale’ sign leaning plaintively out from our front wall. Many times over the past year as tiny numbers of people viewed the house, and even fewer made what seemed to us miserly offers, strung us along and then lost interest, I wondered if we had left it too late to escape our mortgage and the constant scramble to make the payments. Maybe the climate of economic unease infecting the property market would leave us flogging it for a pittance and still with nothing to invest in a new way of life on the high seas. I know, right? Get out the tiny violins.
It wouldn’t have been the end of the world, or TEOTWAWKI as those ever-chirpy peak oil geeks have it, but it could have meant putting off the voyage for another year, as the longer we leave it the less time we’ll have to get far enough South before the real cold hits.
BUT! (touching wood with every available bit of skin surface for a moment) finally we’ve got through the survey stage and they still seem to want to actually live there, as opposed to play some insane game of ‘chicken’ involving thousands of pounds and a series of awful estate agents.
So it’s no surrender for setting off this year.
This week I’m at Sheffield Docfest meeting with many luminaries of the documentary, independent distribution and cross-platform worlds, in the hopes of getting this project a little further into the waters of adventure. We’ve been shooting plenty of new stuff and planning even more, all in the pipeline. Meanwhile, here’s our current trailer.