How the Covid-19 Pandemic Has Taught Me to Love My Hometown
When people used to ask me about where I live, I would always fumble about for an adequate response. ‘Erm… It’s called Newtonhill and there’s a church, a small corner shop, a Tesco, a primary school, a few cows, and eh… There is a beach, although it’s not so much a beach as a cove…’ Seeing the interest quickly fading from the other person’s eyes, I would quickly add, ‘It’s near Stonehaven, the town with the castle and the home of the deep-fried Mars bar.’ I had recaptured their attention but in doing so had dismissed my hometown as insignificant. It was just an unremarkable place that happened to be not far from a town popular among tourists for its breathtaking medieval ruins and mind-bending, chocolate-altering powers.
Those who asked me were usually my fellow students, many of whom, as you can imagine, were interested in immersing themselves in all that the student lifestyle has to offer: nightclubs, flat parties, pub crawls and so on. In other words, my quiet, isolated existence seemed a far cry from the lively, social scene which they craved.
Choosing to stay at home for my university studies was an easy decision at the time. I was 18 and very much a homebird with no pressing need to move away from my parents with whom I have always been close. Also, the campus was less than an hour away, even if I did need to take two buses to get there. I would save a lot of money as well, which was a bonus.
However, it didn’t take long for me to realise that staying at home would have an impact on my social life, no matter how hard I tried to make friends during Fresher’s Week and the weeks and months that followed. It isn’t ideal to go on nights out when at the back of your mind you know that you’ll have to catch a bus back home while the night is still young. Soon I grew tired of my daily commutes from my hometown to the city in order to study. I’d arrive, attend a class or two, speak to a couple of people and then head home again. This was not the university experience I had hoped for, and the sight of my rural village when the bus rolled in after another lonely day was depressing.
Coming back home from my Erasmus+ year abroad in Granada, a charming and bustling Spanish city in the southern region of Andalucía, and back to my sleepy village was not an easy adjustment. Luckily, in the last two years of my degree I found a way of making my trips to Aberdeen more worthwhile from a social point of view, largely thanks to befriending two people from my course. However, I still longed for a change of scenery and planned to take a gap year after graduating, but then Covid-19 struck. I wasn’t going anywhere.
One of the few positives I have taken from the last ten nightmarish months is the time I have spent in the great outdoors. When travel restrictions are in place and restaurants, cafés, cinemas and gyms are all closed, one naturally looks to his surrounding environment for inspiration. Whereas previously I would occasionally take a walk around the block, or head down to the cove to watch the waves, I spent lockdown with my parents searching for new walks in and around our village.
After twenty years of living in the same place, it was a wonderful surprise to discover the existence of several scenic routes in Newtonhill and nearby towns and villages. Whether taking a refreshing coastal walk in Old Portlethen to the north, or rock-scrambling to the waterfall in Muchalls to the south, we came to appreciate the abundance of gorgeous spots right on our doorstep.
Being so close to nature helped me massively during the first lockdown back in March and continues to do so. The difference I notice in my mental and physical state on a day spent completely indoors compared with one in which I have gone for a walk — even just a short one — is incredible. Being able to breathe in fresh, unpolluted air declutters my mind and eases built up tension in my body.
Living in a small house currently occupied by four other people during a pandemic can be extremely trying. Other people’s annoying habits feel like they have been cranked up a few notches and every noise in the house amplified. It can be easy to stew over everything and work myself into a state of frustration and melancholy, but sometimes all it takes is a push from a loved one to get outside and out of my own head.
I love reading and watching movies, but no book or film has so dramatically improved my mood as simply stepping out the front door and walking through my village and the surrounding areas. Thinking back to my flimsy description of my hometown, I now feel a touch of shame. I live in a glorious part of Aberdeenshire which for all of its spectacular scenery retains a modesty typical of North East Scotland.
So, here is my advice to you. Take a break from what you are doing. Put down your phone. Turn off your laptop. Put on a jacket and wear gloves, a hat, a scarf, a snood — anything that will protect you from the elements. No excuses. Walk for thirty minutes and notice how you feel when you get back home. You will think more clearly. You will feel more relaxed. You will be happier. See your location for its natural beauty, whether that means discovering new spots or revisiting old ones.
Sometimes we can be surrounded by nature in all its splendour and not even realise or fully appreciate it. I owe my village an apology. It may not be the liveliest of places, but I am lucky to breathe in its fresh sea air and enjoy its scenic walks during such an uncertain and often stifling period in our lives.
There’s no place I’d rather be during a pandemic.
