Swapping city life for country living

Also surprising is the youthful feel of the place. Calling a village 'sleepy' can sometimes be a euphemism for 'one big waiting room for the biggest sleep of all'. But not only does this village have plenty of people in their thirties, even the pensioners seem young. Old people are supposed to complain, grumble, shuffle. Here they laugh and socialise, and the only shuffle they know about is the one on their iPods. I used to be suspicious of the fabled 'sense of community'. Nothing more than a snoopers' charter, I thought. But here that community feels real, positive, healthy. Privacy doesn't have to be sacrificed. Friendships arise easily from the fact you live on the same street. Jo and I share laughs (and red wine) with people in their thirties, fifties and eighties.

All of this could easily sound twee, and to the London me I'm sure it would have done. But then I always heard these village eulogies from people moaning about London, about how unfriendly it is. Of course. London should be unfriendly, that's what makes it great. It's menus for venues: the way you behave, the way you live your life, should depend on where you are. The sort of behaviour I love in Suffolk would be a nightmare in London. You couldn't have everyone smiling 'hello' at each other on the Tube, how would you get anywhere? Big cities are about anonymity, atomisation - yes, if you like, a certain rudeness.

They're also about controlled schizophrenia. You can have distinct lives and habits in a big city, distinct groups of friends. One of my favourite periods in London was working as a researcher at the House of Commons. It was part-time, not enough to live on, so I busked as well. The contrast was thrilling, the excitement of knowing that two hours after walking the corridors of power I'd be on the Underground, suit swapped for jeans and a T-shirt, seeing people (and them seeing me) in a completely different way.

But that's the sort of thing you do in your twenties, when you're finding out who you are. London's the perfect place for that. And I'd miss it if I never went there at all. But in the end, for me, London's an idea, not a place. As compelling and vital and inspiring as it is, it's a melting pot, and the thing about being in a melting pot is you keep melting. Eventually you have to cool. The country breezes seem to do the trick.