nunoncastors

In a few weeks I shall be moving away from the well known and comfortable surrounds of West Bridgford and into the relative unknown that is Netherfield. Currently, my feelings about this are somewhat mixed because, despite having lived in Nottinghamshire for my entire life and never more than ten miles distant from this ‘Nether Field’, my internal catalogue turns up almost nothing about the place when queried. I dislike the unknown.

Actually, that’s not strictly true. I mean, the Faroe Isles are a relative unknown to me – though I can point to them on a map – but I don’t really know what I’ll find if I indulge and make my planned trip up there next summer. Despite there being no particular difference in my lack of knowledge of these two disparate places, this particular hue of the unknown doesn’t bother me, I embrace it as part of the adventure. Yet moving house to a location not ten miles from my current abode bothers me.

I should probably point out at this point that it isn’t my house that I’ll be living in, my friend Duncan has bought himself a dwelling and I’ll be renting a room in the manner of Joey from Friends. Thus far I’m yet to see it; though I’m assured it’s nice. Not that it matters, it’s more about who you’re with than where you are and I think it’s going to be cool living with one of my best mates and Helen (his missus).

Assurances of pleasantness do not entirely salve my discomfort however. I’ve spent the day trying to collate all that I know about Netherfield and all I’ve managed to assemble is this paltry list.

1. It’s the other side of the river.
2. You go along the Colwick loop road to get there.
3. It has a train station.
4. It’s not far from Stoke Bardolph
5. I think it’s where Graham Reed’s cycle shop is.
6. Strong suspicion it’s full of chavs.

That’s it, that’s all I can link to Netherfield unaided. So I’ve been digging and I’ve discovered something harrowing.

There’s no library.

The adventure begins.