Having been born in - actually, in a village just outside where the maternity home was situated, but that's splitting hairs: apart from those first few days, I lived in Rugby until I was 18. And a bit. And lots more bits of inbetween life: inbetween college terms; inbetween jobs; inbetween singleness and marriage; inbetween a Kenyan life and a Guernsey life....
I thought it was 'quite a nice place' but generally wasn't that enthralled.
Still, I returned on a brief visit last month. Caught up with a couple of friends, revisited my parents' old house, now a lovely bed and breakfast. My parents kept the best of the Victorian features and the new owners have upgraded it all beautifully.
Seeing the town on a sunny, warm May morning was probably seeing Rugby at its best.
So it was quite fun to read this from a moved-in-from-the-south Rugbyite.
Interesting. Because I could have written exactly the same about Guernsey, where we now live, though the list of attractions here is CONSIDERABLY longer. After all, what's not to like about clear air, sunny skies, golden beaches, rugged cliffs and an abundance of winding lanes...not to mention one of the prettiest, quaintest towns in Britain?
Small, super friendly, relaxed.
A view from the other side.
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