One Last Term in Chalkida: What Happens Next for The Hub ❤️

If you’re here, I’m going to assume you’ve already read the post.

So you know the headline.

I’m leaving Greece. The Hub as we know it in Chalkida will close. And we have one last term together.

What I couldn’t fit into an Instagram post is everything underneath that — the why, the how, and the slightly terrifying question of what happens next?

So here’s the longer version.

This wasn't the plan

A few months ago, if you'd asked me what I’d be doing at the end of 2026, this would not have been my answer.

I wasn't preparing to leave Greece.

I wasn't planning to close The Hub.

And I definitely wasn't planning to move back to England without a home, a job or any particularly sensible idea of what I was going to do when I got there.

But life has changed very quickly.

The last couple of months have been some of the hardest I've experienced personally, and they've forced me to make decisions I wasn't expecting to make.

I want to be clear about something, though.

I'm not sharing this because I want sympathy, and I'm certainly not here to air my dirty laundry.

There are parts of what has happened that are personal, involve other people and will remain private. They should.

But I also don't want to hide behind a carefully worded business announcement.

Because we built this community through shared experiences.

From the beginning, I've shared this journey with you; the ideas, the experiments, the successes, the things that didn't work and plenty of chaos along the way.

I asked you to believe in an idea.

And you did.

You booked. You brought your children. You came alone. You brought friends. You recommended us. You came back.

You helped turn something that existed in my head into a real community.

We've shared pretty much everything else, so it feels right to share this part too.

Not every detail.

Just the truth.

Life changed the plan. And I've reached a point where going back to the UK is the right thing for me.

So… what happens to The Hub?

This is where things get practical.

The Hub isn't a laptop I can put in my hand luggage.

It's a physical space.

And MY GOD, is it full of stuff. 😂

Paint, brushes, resin, 1000s of mosaic tiles, canvases, paper, tools, furniture, equipment and approximately 847 tiny craft items I've kept because “we could make something with that.”

Initially, I imagined taking some of it back to England.

Then I realised the fairly obvious problem:

Where exactly am I taking it?

I don't have a home waiting for me.

I don't have a studio.

I don't even know exactly where I'm going to end up yet.

Shipping the contents of a creative studio across Europe just to put it into storage while I figure my life out makes absolutely no sense.

So…

Nothing is coming with me.

I'm starting again.

Properly.

Which means everything must go

Over the next few months, everything inside The Hub will gradually be sold.

And I mean everything.

Furniture, equipment, storage, art supplies, craft materials, tools, workshop stock - all of it.

Some things will go individually, some will become bundles, and towards the end I think we'll have one big open-house sale where you can come in, rummage through everything and help me empty the place.

Teachers, crafters, artists, parents and fellow craft-supply hoarders - consider this your warning. 😂

But maybe somebody else's story starts here

There's another possibility that I actually really love.

Someone could take over the space.

The Hub is already a fully functioning little workspace with air conditioning, bathroom, TV, desks, tables, chairs and plenty of storage.

Upstairs there is additional storage and the potential to create another usable working area.

It could remain a creative workshop or events space.

But it doesn't have to.

It could work brilliantly as a small φροντιστήριο, language or tutoring centre, teaching space, studio, consultation space or base for another small business.

And for the right person, there's the possibility of taking it turnkey, with the existing furniture, equipment and setup.

You could essentially walk through the door and begin.

There's something I find really comforting about that.

I walked into an empty space with an idea and made it mine.

Maybe somebody else walks through that same door and sees something completely different.

Maybe another idea gets its beginning in the same little space where mine did.

So if you're reading this and a little voice in your head has just said “Actually…” — talk to me.

But first, we're going out properly

Apparently my brain responded to “you only have a few months left” with:

QUICK. DO ALL THE THINGS!

So September to Christmas is going to be packed.

I have workshops I've been saving, old favourites I want to bring back, collaborations I've been talking about forever, Halloween ideas, Christmas ideas and several unnecessarily complicated things that I'll inevitably regret approximately 45 minutes before the workshop starts.

Suddenly there's a deadline.

And deadlines have a funny way of making you stop saying “one day.”

There isn't a one day anymore.

There's September.

October.

November.

December.

And I want to use them.

I want full tables. I want paint everywhere. I want people coming alone and leaving knowing someone new.

I want adults insisting they aren't creative and children proudly carrying home something their parents have absolutely nowhere to put.

And I want to look around that little room a few more times and think:

Yep. This is why I did it.

And then we're having a party 🥂

Obviously.

There is absolutely no way The Hub ends with me finishing a workshop, switching off the lights and posting something emotional from my car.

We're giving this little place a proper send-off.

One big, happy, sad, probably slightly chaotic party for everyone who feels like some small part of The Hub belongs to them.

Because it does.

We'll drink. We'll eat. We'll reminisce.

I'll pretend I'm completely fine.

Someone will hug me.

That will ruin everything.

And then I'll cry. 😂

So what happens when I get to the UK?

This is the question people keep asking me.

“What are you going to do when you get back?”

The truthful answer is that I don't completely know.

There isn't a secret masterplan.

I don't have a job waiting for me.

I don't have my own home waiting for me.

And I'm definitely not walking into a shiny new UK version of The Hub on January 1st.

I'm going home and I'm going to figure a lot of things out.

And yes, that scares me.

Starting again at 21 sounds adventurous.

Starting again at 41 comes with considerably more thoughts about pensions and storage units. 😂

But there is one thing I do know.

I'm not ready to stop doing this.

I don't know exactly what it will look like yet.

I won't have a physical Hub waiting for me when I land, and I'm not going to pretend I have some perfectly mapped-out UK business plan.

But I am going to start running creative events in the UK.

Maybe they happen in cafés.

Maybe in bars, community spaces, function rooms or borrowed corners of other people's businesses.

Maybe I find venues that believe in the idea and we build something together.

Maybe, eventually, there's another little space to call home.

I don't know.

And actually, that's quite exciting.

Because this time I'm not starting completely from scratch.

I'm taking everything I've learned here with me.

Every workshop that worked.

Every one that didn't.

Every person who arrived alone.

Every full table.

Every quiet event.

Every ridiculous idea.

Every lesson about what makes people book, what makes them come back and, most importantly, what makes a room full of strangers start to feel like a community.

The furniture isn't coming.

The supplies aren't coming.

The tables aren't coming.

And the 10,000 mosaic tiles are definitely not coming. 😂

But the important part is.

Because I've realised something through all of this:

The Hub was never really the room.

It was what happened when people came into it.

And that is something I can build again.

Maybe that's what comes next 🌱

At some point, this place was just an empty room and an idea in my head.

There were no workshops.

No Paint Socials.

No Summer Camps.

No community.

And then people started showing up.

Look what happened.

So I'm trying not to demand every answer from myself before I've even left.

I don't know where I'll live permanently.

I don't know exactly what work will look like.

I don't know where the first UK event will be held or who will walk through the door.

There are a lot of blank spaces.

But if you know me, you'll know I'm determined, passionate and usually overflowing with ideas.

So I'm fairly confident that if I give myself a little time, something beautiful will bloom from all of this. 🌱

Maybe differently.

Maybe somewhere unexpected.

But it will grow.

First, we have some unfinished business here.

The UK can wait for a minute.

Right now, I'm still in Chalkida.

The lights are still on.

The cupboards are still ridiculously full.

And my notebook is overflowing with ideas.

So I'm not ready to mourn The Hub before it's gone.

I want to use it.

Make things.

Try things.

Fill the tables.

Empty those cupboards one workshop at a time.

Make a few more memories.

And eventually throw one hell of a party.

Then I'll deal with January when January gets here.

For now, we've got work to do. ❤️