Homeward Bound

"Maybe tomorrow, I'll want to settle down. Until tomorrow, I'll just keep moving on." (The Littlest Hobo, 1979)

I fly back to London later today for a business trip, a precursor to a permanent move back home in six weeks' time. Our time in New York is rapidly coming to an end.

Upon the fifth anniversary of our move to the Big Apple, I wrote a piece from the heart about the experience we had enjoyed here.

I am relatively sanguine about the prospect of leaving. I've increasingly become conscious that Manhattan is a place for the young, single (or at least childless) and the rich, or preferably all three at once.

Given that I am none of the above, our time here has thus reached a 'natural' end. It is time for the next chapter in our lives.

Certainly when one finds that weekdays are more enjoyable than weekends, it's time to reevaluate one's life situation. Since our second son was born, I've coined the phrase "Monday morning is the new Friday night."

Admittedly he has been a very difficult baby, which has not helped matters. If I took him on a tour of the country's secondary schools, teenage pregnancy rates would plummet; this kid could do more for population control than the condom.

Fellow New Yorkers with young kids tend to make life more bearable, by finding a suitable weekend escape from the city whether to parents in the suburbs, or perhaps a second home (hence my comment above about the rich).

The obvious transitional step would be to move as a family to one of those suburbs, but we figured we'd feel isolated without fully buying into the whole American lifestyle.

Moreover if we considered it likely that we'd eventually move home anyhow, it's surely fairest to the kids to do it before they reach school age, than when they're settled into schools and amongst friends. They will however retain their (dual) citizenship which pleases me.

We'll thus avoid the horror of their American accents, as well as the ignominy of developing our own mid-Atlantic twang, the tell-tale sign of an expat who overstayed.

Living abroad brings a new and generally positive perspective to Blighty meanwhile, which for all its drawbacks still firmly remains 'home'.

I have missed the UK's humour and quirks, whilst life away makes you appreciate institutions like the BBC that are often taken for granted.

It is a hellishly expensive country to live in of course, but it lacks the rampant commercialism which pervades so much of life in the US. One can live with less 'fear' back home.

It saddens me however that there seems to be a pervasive thread of nastiness running through UK life these days, although I wonder how much of it is media-driven. There always seems to be the threat of violence lurking, imagined or otherwise.

Our well-developed tradition of self-deprecation and irony can easily be interpreted in a destructive way, when left to those too ignorant to appreciate it, especially teenagers it seems.

America has enough of its own problems of course, grinding inequallity being the worst (as best exemplified by its healthcare system) but it seems to have greater pride in its history and traditions. This may just be by virtue of its relative youth.

Philanthropy is an integral part of life here, not an occasional £20 donation to someone running a marathon.

We will leave behind good friends, but rejoin old ones as well as some we made in New York, who themselves since returned back to the UK.

After over five years of perhaps the purest urban experience in the Western world, we are keen for a quieter life as we seek to find somewhere new to live.

The mother-in-law has declared her nervousness about motorway driving, which led me to enquire about long-term stays at the Travelodge at Toddington Services (rooms very small unfortunately, and noisy too).

Realistically we intend to settle somewhere in The Chilterns, an area we researched thoroughly when we were back in August, and liked very much.

Indeed I recall there used to be an enthusiastic official Chiltern Addicks club, so perhaps this can be the catalyst for its reformation?

I'd be sadder about leaving New York, if I wasn't fairly certain that I'd be back on a regular basis, hopefully as often as several times per year.

My much-loved runs in Central Park will be something to look forward to and savour, rather than snatched inbetween nappy changes and bottle feeds.

Although I remain somewhat undecided, it also feels like the right moment to bring this blog to a close.

Writing it has felt like a chore in recent months, and frankly I no longer have the time. There are plenty of excellent newer ones, as well as sites like Charlton Life to fill any small gap that this blog might leave behind.

By way of example, it's taking me so long to write my piece about Richard Murray approaching the Dragon's Den for new investment, that they've already found another £7million. It's certainly taken the edge off some of Duncan Bannatyne's more biting observations.

Living abroad has also hopefully given a different and interesting perspective to Charlton matters, as well as other subjects that I occasionally turn my hand to.

Moreover for the blogging fraternity, the past few years will surely be looked back on as the halcyon days, for those keen to provide incisive and thought-provoking debate.

Two relegations and five managers have provided considerable fuel, occurring after fifteen years of near linear progress that must have been terribly dull to opine upon.

Equally it's no surprise that this season's table-topping exploits have been the least interesting to write about for me. Much easier to write about things going wrong.

The blog meanwhile has allowed me to meet dozens of interesting, friendly and equally passionate fellow supporters. Ironic that I had to move nearly 4,000 miles to achieve this.

Until moving to New York, supporting Charlton had been virtually a solitary pursuit. Hopefully these connections will become stronger as my attendance at matches increases.

Strangely enough, writing reports on the occasional matches I've actually seen live has been one of the least satisfying aspects of the blog.

I want to just go to enjoy them again, rather than cheekily taking notes on my Blackberry like a budding young reporter.

Perhaps the rumoured takeovers by David Sullivan or a consortium fronted by Dennis Wise will provide new excitement, but both leave me stone cold and even less interested.

Either way I'll probably keep the blog alive for the occasional brain dump because sometimes when the Guinness has kicked in, I just can't help myself. However let's be honest, Berkhamsted Addick doesn't quite have the same ring to it does it?