town mouse / country mouse

It's become a bit of a running joke between Y and me - this hypothetical village in a temperate first-world country where we both think i would like to live. I'm sure it must exist somewhere - maybe in a Tuscan valley, by a Norwegian fjord, or in the foothills of the Swiss Alps. Or maybe just by a major traffic roundabout outside a big polluted English city. The idea is, basically - cool weather (or at least weather that is not so ridiculously hot), first-world amenities (i still want my creature comforts), lots of nature not too far away, not too many people, space to just mind your own business (hopefully) while at the same time being held in community with others.
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Singapore is becoming so crowded. i avoid going into the city centre now, simply because the crowds make me feel harassed, swallowed up, less than a person, less than human. i don't like this constant roaring, this grasping after being first in line, this underhumming of fear that i feel - pressed against the crowds pressing in on all sides - as the train speeds through the granite darkness. People are always driven by a mixture of fear and desire - desire for something is often a submerged fear of its opposite - but some cities seem to pulse on one more than the other, and i think Singapore is driven by fear. i am tired of this soul-sapping fear. i want to live in a place where people are not constantly looking over their shoulders, constantly suspicious of their neighbours (and who can blame them?), clinging on to whatever tiny sliver of space they can find and hoping it doesn't get snatched away too soon by all those competing global millions who would come and rob them of their birthright.
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But i don't hate the crowds because they threaten to take away my chance of upward mobility, or because they are competing for some much-coveted job i need to make me feel worthwhile. i'm not one of those looking to stake some claim for themselves on some much-loved personal agenda or project; heck, i don't even want so many of the things this country tells me i should want - all these nice clothes, handbags, shoes, posh food, smartphones, iPads... i just want some quiet, a space to be, some trees and hills to look at, sky to soften the view, maybe a lake, a promise of a lake, somewhere glimmering in the mind's eye, the murmur of surf on the horizon. A place to write, where God feels near at hand and does not have to be chased after as you catch His glory fading and disappearing behind the fifth million visitor to walk through the Changi Airport turnstiles.
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i just want some quiet, some peace, a warm bowl of homemade minestrone soup and some freshly-baked bread, a wooden table with a woven-cane seat, a place to write, to pray, to be.
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