The quiet life of the country has never appealed to me. City born and city bred. I have always
regarded the country as something you look at through a train window, or something you occasional
visit during the weekend. Most of my friends live in the city, yet they always go into raptures
at the mere mention of the country. Though they extol the virtues of the peaceful life, only one
of them has ever gone to live in the country and he was back in town within six months. Even
he still lives under the illusion that country life is somehow superior to town life. He is
forever talking about the friendly people, the clean atmosphere, the closeness to nature and the
gentle pace of living. Nothing can be compared, he maintains, with the first cockcrow, the
twittering of birds at dawn, the sight of the rising sun glinting on the trees and pastures.
This idyllic pastoral scene is only part of the picture. My friend fails to mention the long
and friendless winter evenings in front of the TV -- virtually the only form of entertainment.
He says nothing about the poor selection of goods in the shops, or about those unfortunate
people who have to travel from the country to the city every day to get to work. Why people
are prepared to tolerate a four-hour journey each day for the dubious privilege of living in
the country is beyond me. They could be saved so much misery and expense if they chose to live
in the city where they rightly belong.
If you can do without the few pastoral pleasures of the country, you will find the city can
provide you with the best that life can offer. You never have to travel miles to see your
friends. They invariably live nearby and are always available for an informal chat or an
evening's entertainment. Some of my acquaintances in the country come up to town once or
twice a year to visit the theatre as a special treat. For them this is a major operation
which involves considerable planning. As the play draws to its close, they wonder whether
they will ever catch that last train home. The cit dweller never experiences anxieties of
this sort. The latest exhibitions, films, or plays are only a short bus ride away. Shopping,
too, is always a pleasure. The latest exhibitions, films, or plays are only a short bus ride
away. Shopping, too, is always a pleasure. There is so much variety that you never have to
make do with second best. Country people run wild when they go shopping in the city and
stagger home loaded with as many of the exotic items as they can carry. Nor is the city
without its moments of beauty. There is something comforting about the warm glow shed by
advertisements on cold wet winter nights. Few things could be more impressive than the
peace that descends on deserted city streets at weekends when the thousands that travel
to work every day are tucked away in their homes in the country. It has always been a
mystery to me who city dwellers, who appreciate all these things, obstinately pretend that
they would prefer to live in the country.