Earlier this week I mentioned a mystery city we are thinking of moving to, probably in a year or two, depending on when we can sell our condo and when we conceive. That mystery city is Asheville, North Carolina. Hubby and I are thinking of moving to Asheville because it will be equidistant to our families’ homes in metro Atlanta and Raleigh, about three hours (give or take) to each. We both like Asheville, although I have only been once last year. We’ll see how it works out, but we are both pretty excited about the possibility and are busily dreaming away.
Asheville is artsy and generally liberal-ish (a plus to us), with cute shops, art galleries, and a coffee shop in an old double-decker bus. Although it’s in the western North Carolina mountains, Asheville has a more temperate climate than you may think (although undoubtedly we’d be purchasing some more sweaters and such.) We’d live at the foot of the Blue Ridge Parkway, where hubby could enjoy some of the best cycling in the country. Together we are imagining our house there, and wondering if we could find a four-bedroom home with character just right for us. We picture a home with a large yard, room for a garden, and a space for outdoor entertaining. This morning we daydreamed about that backyard, about laying a stone patio, putting in a fire pit. I gushed about how I’ve always wanted a walkway through a garden, meandering past lush landscaping and ending, perhaps, at a bench beside a pond with a fountain.
There are lots of unique restaurants there, along with yoga and belly dance studios. Not only religion but also a wide variety of spiritual practices are an important part of the Asheville landscape, and we love the latter too. We’re going to North Carolina in June for a wedding, and we’ve decided to stop by Asheville the night before to do some scouting. Hubby has lived in Atlanta for about 10 years now, and I have lived here since I was two years old. I’m ready to move, and hubby is getting excited about the idea as well. I love a good adventure.