Frustrated with my house hunt in the Cotswolds, where I grew up, my family and I moved to the North Essex commuter belt 13 years ago, closer to where my husband Charlie’s relatives live.
But when I first arrived, it felt like it was stuck in a time warp, and very Lovejoy-esque.
My cleaner (not that I hire one anymore, now that they cost around £20 an hour) eyed avocados with suspicion until I gave her one to try, and if you asked for coconut water at the village shop, they’d think you were talking about cheap conditioner.
Now, estate agents tout plenty of the commuter
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