I moved from New York City to a small town in the mountains. It’s not as cheap as I expected, but I have no regrets.

• I lived in New York City for seven years before moving to a nearby suburb.

• Then I moved to a small, rural town in Upstate New York during the COVID-19 pandemic.

• I’ve been surprised by some aspects of living here, such as the services, roads, and costs.

When I moved out of my apartment in Brooklyn, New York, and into a house in a suburb on Long Island, I thought it was for the long haul.

Then COVID-19 hit.

Like many others during the pandemic, my husband and I took the time to consider our priorities. For us, that meant leaving our large commuter town outside New York City — and all of its expenses and conveniences — for a small, rural town in the Catskill Mountains, about three hours north.

We’ve always loved the Catskills for its outdoor activities, breathtaking landscapes, and quieter way of life. So, in January 2021, we sold our home on Long Island, New York, and relocated.

The town we left behind had a population of 25,000 people, thousands of homes, busy roadways, a town center with restaurants, bars, and businesses, and a train line that took us straight to Manhattan within 40 minutes.

Our new town has a population closer to 1,600, excluding the deer, groundhogs, and bears.

There have been no regrets, but over the past almost five years, there have been a few surprises. Here are 12 things that surprised me after we moved.

After years of dealing with frustrating traffic, I find it novel that it’s completely nonexistent here.

Long Island’s traffic is infamous. When living there, I would automatically factor in an additional 30 minutes when driving anywhere. And everyone knows driving is the worst way to get across New York City.

So, when I moved here, it was truly novel to me that I could enter an address into Google Maps, and it would actually take me that long to get there. I am never stuck in traffic, and I never have to factor in extra time.

Instead, our traffic concerns are a little different. Heavy snow makes traveling by car more precarious, although the snowplows are usually out in force when the first snowflake falls. Driving up the mountain when it’s ringed with fog also requires me to take things a little slow.

Additionally, I need to be much more aware of wildlife on the roads and the dangers we present to each other.

Something else that’s nonexistent: wait times at the doctor’s office, post office, or restaurants.

Anyone who’s tried to mail anything in New York City knows they have to set aside an hour and a good deal of patience for a visit to the post office.

Now, I just walk across the street and straight to the counter, where I’m met with warm smiles and quick service. I’m out within minutes.

Some processes are just much easier when you’re contending with fewer people, and I’ll never take that for granted.

Not only are wait times shorter, but the services are far better than I experienced in the city.

In New York City or Long Island, my doctor was always an hour behind. By the time I was finally seen, I’d waited so long I felt forgotten—and the visit itself felt like it lasted only seconds.

On the other hand, my first medical-care experience here was like I’d seen in the movies — a scenario I’d previously dismissed as fiction. I was seen at my scheduled appointment time, and the doctor sat with me, looked me in the eyes, and discussed my concerns at length. Being treated with respect and patience by a doctor left me taken aback.

I’ve since had a child here, and the exceptional care continued throughout my pregnancy. The night I gave birth to my son, only one other child was born in the hospital, meaning there were multiple staff available in what felt like a stress-free environment.

That’s not to say that simply practicing medicine here makes you an exemplary doctor, or that stellar doctors don’t exist in the city. However, in my experience, the overwhelming demands of the city’s population have had a detrimental impact on my care.

Despite the smaller population, meeting people and maintaining friendships is much easier.

When we left Brooklyn for Long Island, we were drawn to the fact that our new suburban town was populated with people our age. But when we actually moved there, not knowing anyone, it was surprisingly hard to make friends.

But here in the Catskills, we’ve been more successful. It’s smaller, so we see the same people everywhere: in the coffee shops, on the trails, and at the farmers’ markets. We meet new people and discover they know people we know, and it all just feels connected.

It’s also far less transient than somewhere like New York City. People who live here might have done so for generations, and others have moved here with intention. It means people seem more willing to invest time in their neighbors and in the broader community because this is where they plan to stay.

Additionally, with its long, snowy winters and limited convenience, this lifestyle may not be suitable for everyone. So if you meet someone who lives here too, you know you already have some things in common.

People really do say hello to everyone they pass on the street.

While some people might not find this surprising, others might think it’s a small-town myth.

However, in my experience, everyone says hello to everyone, even if you don’t know them or have never seen them before. I’ve become friends with many other residents this way.

It also means I can always tell when someone is visiting from out of town because they don’t even try to make eye contact.

What I find particularly surprising about these interactions is that I love them. One of the things I enjoyed about living in New York City was the anonymity it afforded me. So I thought I would hate people recognizing me or knowing about my life, but the truth is, I love the sense of community and small shows of kindness.

Absolutely nothing here is convenient, but surprisingly, that’s OK.

Living in New York City means you can get anything practically any time of the day: Bodegas are still open in the early hours of the morning, bars don’t close until late, and public transportation keeps ticking around the clock.

None of that is true here. We barely have public transportation — don’t even think about getting an Uber — and it’s almost an hour’s drive from my house to the train station. The nearest supermarket is a 30-minute journey down the mountain, and I travel an hour to big-box stores to stock up on items like diapers.

I’m sure this aspect of living here would frustrate some people, but I don’t mind it. There are a lot of positives to having less convenience. I turn errands into day trips. I plan meals better. I don’t drink alcohol because I need to drive everywhere. I pass epic scenery just to get groceries. And I’ve gotten through a lot of audiobooks.

I expected life to be cheaper here, but that’s just not the case.

One factor behind our decision to move was the cost. For example. Now, our property taxes are a fraction of the cost — around a fifth of what they were on Long Island — despite having a larger property. Because of that, I naively thought everything would be cheaper here.

Still, with all the extra driving, I’m paying much more for gas and car maintenance. Our heating bills are about four times what they were on Long Island. Groceries in local stores can be more expensive because of the limited options and because they have to travel up the mountain. If we’re having any service done at our home — getting a lock fixed, for example — we’re often charged extra for the distance the technician has to travel.

Then, we also have expenses we didn’t incur in Long Island or the city, such as paying to have our driveway plowed in the winter and paying for trash pickup.

Plus, with people like me moving here from cities, everything is becoming more expensive for residents who’ve lived here much longer. We’re driving up property prices and causing a housing crisis for the locals and seasonal workers.

So, while our area was perhaps once considered a cheaper option and affordable for many families, that isn’t the case in reality now.

Some services I took for granted in other places I’ve lived don’t exist here.

One reason our taxes are lower is because they don’t cover services I’ve previously taken for granted, such as trash pickup. (Due to bears, we can’t leave trash in cans overnight anyway.) Instead, residents take their trash to a local waste station, paying a couple of dollars per bag to dump it. Recycling is also available for free.

By comparison, our homes in New York City and its suburbs had robust sanitation departments that many people probably don’t think twice about.

Access to other services can also be limited. We live close enough to our town’s main street that we have access to fiber internet, and we’re connected to the town’s water mains. However, other residents rely on satellite internet, well water, and septic tanks, which require additional maintenance.

I knew we’d be surrounded by wildlife, but I was surprised by the variety and proximity.

I grew up in the countryside, but still, I wasn’t familiar with many of the wild animals I now regularly see here, such as porcupines, wild turkeys, skunks, snakes, hummingbirds, turkey vultures, and bears.

My favorites are the chunky groundhogs that waddle about town, and I’ve become overly invested in a family living in our backyard. The male groundhog has two families — one under the shed and one in the woods — and runs between the two.

Who needs Netflix when you have this level of drama right in your backyard?

My wardrobe changed from office- and city-appropriate attire to ice spikes and hiking boots.

In winter, even the quickest errand in town requires pulling my microspikes over my boots to prevent slipping on the roads or sidewalks.

With temperatures hovering around 20 degrees Fahrenheit — and as low as -1 degree Fahrenheit — throughout the winter, I also wear two outer layers: a padded jacket underneath a larger coat. We’ve also invested in snowshoes for cross-country hikes after a heavy snowfall.

In summer, the weather is dry and hot, and the paths are dusty. I now look at the white sneakers, heeled shoes, and tailored coats in my closet with incredulity, wondering how I ever wore them.

While people are definitely stylish here, there’s far less pressure — or expectation — to dress a particular way. Events are less formal; everyone understands we dress for practical purposes, not fashion.

When I moved here, I couldn’t believe how clear the night sky was.

New York City’s pollution prevents much stargazing, and I spent so little time outside in the suburbs that I never noticed the stars there, either.

However, the night sky here is clear and breathtaking, and the view is uninterrupted by buildings, allowing you to appreciate the vastness.

There are four distinct seasons, and they’re all incredible.

In New York City, there were two seasons: bitterly cold, wet days, or sweaty, swelteringly hot days. Plus, I was rarely around nature, so I never noticed the seasons like I do now.

Here, every season is distinct. My first fall felt like I was experiencing fall for the first time. I’d never seen such vibrant colors for such a prolonged period.

Our winter is more extreme than in the city — we get multiple snowstorms each season, and the icicles are taller than me — and it lasts longer, too. But summer is gentler. It’s hot but not unbearable, and none of it needs to be spent inside a subway car.

Nearly five years later, none of the surprises have made me regret our decision to live here.

Other millennials who fled big cities during the pandemic have expressed regret over their decisions, but that has not been my experience.

I will never take it for granted that I wake up to views of towering mountains every day or have access to epic hikes just five minutes away. I love the seasons, the services, the people, and the stillness.

When I lived in the city and suburbs, I yearned to return to the countryside, and now that it has happened, I have no regrets.

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