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From a new life in spain, to an old life in britain, 'roaming brit' documents uncertain times!

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On 31st January 2016, my partner and I left Southampton to start a new life as Expats in Gran Alacant, on the Costa Blanca. This blog will document our journey, as we navigate the Spanish system, travelling a path untried and untested. With Brexit looming, political turmoil in Europe, and an unpredictable future, harsh decisions must be made. Illness, family bonds, and a Change of heart all make for challenging times in the life of a 'Roaming Brit!'

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Goodbye Aunty My!

11/5/2025

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Today has been filled with mixed emotions, as I heard of the death of one of my dearest friends from the UK. Aunty My, as I called her, was a lady I had known for about twenty-five years and someone I loved with all my heart. After reposting a photo of me, Myra, and her sister Jean, on Facebook, I was informed that Myra passed away at the end of March. I was totally devastated and upset — this was a lady who I regarded as family, along with her sister Jean. She was a friend with a heart of gold, who I can't believe has left this mortal coil.

I have lost count of the number of people who have died, while Darrell and I have been living abroad. Sometimes it feels that everyone who has ever been close to us, are no longer here; the passing of friends, no matter how close, never fails to pull at my heart strings. Aunty My was a wonderful lady, who I had some truly wonderful times with, We would often go out on the lash, (an English saying for going out to get drunk), ending up in a curry house or club afterwards. I have so many happy memories of her and all of us together, that I just don't know where to begin, but begin I will. She deserves to be remembered, as one of the most caring and supportive people you could ever wish to have in your life, and that was so important to me, especially in recent years.

I suppose when I was younger, I was somewhat of a social butterfly, unlike today. Darrell and I would frequently throw large, lavish fancy dress parties in our house in Southampton. So many friends and family would come, dressed in fabulous costumes — we would party the night away, until the early hours; happy times filled with laughter, music and over the top camp partying.  Myra and her sister Jean would always be there celebrating landmark Birthdays, royal weddings and anniversaries. All of my memories from twenty years ago, include Aunty My — in all but name, she was family and a huge part of my life.

As my life changed and Darrell and I moved away to Spain, Aunty Myra, was still there, messaging, chatting, and always sending her love. Not long after we moved to our new house in Gran Alacant, I recall receiving a message from Myra and Jean, who were at Alicante Airport. If I remember rightly, there had been a problem with their booking at a hotel in Benidorm, not too far from where we lived. Myra asked if they could crash for a few days while they sorted out somewhere to stay — well, of course, how could I say no. I was delighted they were coming my way!

Seeing them both turn up in a taxi outside our Spanish casa, was an absolute joy; I was so glad to see these two friends, so rooted in the story of my life, waving outside. After the traumatic circumstances, that brought us to Gran Alacant, nearly ten years ago now, It was so good to see friendly faces. I spent five wonderful days with My and Jean, at a time when I needed it most.

​In 2018 my time in Spain came to an end, as Darrell and I separated to be with our respective Mothers. My Mother and Darrell's Mum were seriously ill, and the only thing we could do was leave our dream home and, in my case, be close to Mum during her final days. It was a sad ending to our deeply personal journey, to a new life in Gran Alacant, that we haven't fully recovered from, even today.

It was a frantic time, as I tried to sort out somewhere to stay in the UK on my return. Aunty Myra immediately stepped up, saying I could stay for as long as I wanted. Towards the end of May, after an emotional farewell to friends in Spain, I arrived at Myra's. There was a massive hug and a home cooked meal on the table — I truly felt happy, content and thankful to be with someone, who always made me feel welcome. 

From Myra's I moved on to my Aunty's in Portsmouth; all the while we kept in contact, never losing that connection we had built up over many years. She was a real support during some difficult days. While Darrell remained in Australia caring for his Mum, I was so glad she was at the end of a phone.

​In 2020 the Pandemic took hold, and the World shut down. This was the most difficult time in my life. Darrell was locked down in Australia, and I was locked down in the UK. Alone, I reached out to Myra, and throughout the duration of COVID-19 we spoke every single week. I knew then just how sick Myra was. She had COPD, and I could tell how each phone call, would be more difficult than the last. She insisted I kept phoning, however, and not to stop. We talked about everything, from the Pandemic and the emergency packages she received every couple of days from a local charity, her beautiful family, and the memories we both shared. This was someone who was fighting harder and harder, and I encouraged her to be positive, happy, and always look to the future — God knows she tried, bless her!

The last time I heard from Myra was at Christmas, as I did every year, receiving her neatly written card. This was a security blanket for me at least. This card was a link to my past that was no longer there, and I bloody missed it, and her, her sister Jean, and the great, memorable times we had together. I can't tell you the amount of times, I just wanted to go back to what was the happiest time in my life. However, having a little piece of Myra here with me in Australia, was just enough to jog my memory and keep me fighting, just as she had fought for so long.

​COPD is an insidious disease — one day you feel fine, the next not. Sometimes Myra was full of life on the phone, and others not, but she was still the happy, glamorous, perfectly manicured lady, I had always adored. I just hoped and prayed she would be fine, putting the worst outcome to the back of my mind, until today. I will miss her with all my heart, and will put her last Christmas card up every year, next to Mums. Remembering her, and the zest she had for life, will be a gentle reminder of the funny, beautiful lady she was, and I was honoured to call her my friend.
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We spent Saturday afternoon with an old school friend of Darrell's, having lunch in Mandurah, along the coast. Despite feeling down about Myra, I was glad of the company. Initially, I just wanted to be alone, but I am glad I went. In my heart I toasted Myra, her life and our friendship. Like me, she enjoyed a beer or two, so it felt apt, to be sat in a bar by the sea in Australia, thinking about her and the memories we shared. She was a truly remarkable lady, who always looked out for me and Darrell, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

Each loss of a friend hits me harder than the last. Myra's has been the hardest of all, but after everything she had been through in her life, I know she has gone to a much better place. As I have gotten older, I realise just how important people are to me now. I have made my family over the years, not in the traditional sense, but through choice, mutual love and respect, and of course out of fate. Fate has brought all of us together — a hodgepodge of diverse individuals who, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have ever met. Thankfully, we did, and I am able to write about Aunty Myra today.

My life became a little lonelier today, less rich, emptier, and a hell of a lot sadder. Rest in Peace, Aunty Myra — you touched my heart, which is why it hurts so badly. Without you, my life would have been all the poorer; your memory will live on, your laugher will continue to fill my home, and your kindness and courage will be a reminder of how brave you were, and how loved you will always be… Goodnight, Aunty My, sleep well!

… And finally — Thank you all for your Birthday messages. I no longer celebrate in the same way I used to. At 54 years old, I have become rather distant from significant milestones, that just add more years to one's life. With the death of Myra fresh in my mind, my Birthday serves as a reminder, to live my life in the best way I can…
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Rejecting Trumpian Politics!

4/5/2025

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Yesterday, my new home of Australia, rejected Trumpian politics in spectacular form. Our current Labor Prime Minister, Anthony Albanese, won a second term in office, after the people of this great nation rejected the politics of his rival, Peter Dutton, and consequently, the divisive right wing rhetoric of Donald Trump. The majority of us who live here, collectively, gave a rather large sigh of relief, as normal service resumed today.

The day before, things were very different in The UK. In local council, and Mayoral elections, right wing populist party, Reform, won a resounding victory, taking hundreds of seats from the Tories and current Labour Government. They also secured a hard fought by-election victory, in the once safe Labour constituency of Runcorn, and won its first mayoral contests, in the newly created combined authorities of Greater Lincolnshire and Hull, and East Yorkshire.


The contrast between Australia and the UK was stark, and left many expats like me, with links to both countries, confused and unable to comprehend just what was going on!  Australia seemed to be following in the footsteps of Canada, with an unequivocal rejection of 'Trumpian' politics and the hate of the far right; Britain on the other hand was moving towards a right wing future, unlike anything it had seen before. Just what was happening, and why, isn't immediately clear, but I do have some thoughts on this amazing few weeks in world politics.

Australia is quite a liberal society as a rule. On the surface they are accepting and welcoming, and I do feel safe living here. It is rare for extreme political turmoil to exist down under; democracy flourishes with mutual respect and understanding from all sides. This is of course in complete contrast to The USA under Donald Trump. I don't think I can remember a time when I have felt more anxious about the state of the World, and this is a direct result of one man — no, not Putin, but Donald Trump. 


President Trump has turned the World upside down and everything we took for granted has been swept away. The World is out on a limb, adrift, polarised and unable to move forwards with certainty, as normal politics is relegated to the sidelines. If you understand history, as I do, you can literally feel the seeds of hate being sowed, as the politics of division, conflict, and discord take centre stage. 

Parties like Reform and its leader Nigel Farage, pray on people's insecurities, they exploit normally rational, good, forgiving people, into believing all the World's ills are as a direct result of immigration, diversity, 'wokeism' and inclusiveness. This is patently untrue and used as an excuse to introduce ever concerning policies that seek to create disunity and marginalisation. This isn't how it should be — human beings are caring, compassionate, and willing to accept those who have fallen on hard times; we do not reject people because of the colour of their skin, sexuality, or gender. We are being manipulated, gaslit and encouraged to spew hate and vitriol, rather than dealing with the real issues at hand.

Sitting here in Australia, I am cocooned from most of the hate emitted from America and Britain. I am lucky to live and work in an environment, that has encouraged me to be the person I am, and not hide my sexuality from other people. I enjoy equal opportunities in all aspects of my life, and I am not denied access to jobs and services, that have been removed in the new Trump America. Furthermore, I am personally shocked at the policies and Executive Orders coming out of The USA, and fear for the future of everyone who lives there.

Whether you are gay, straight, old, young or poor, your quality of life in America (unless, of course, you are rich), is under threat from a Government who doesn't care about your wellbeing and future. Not only that, but the rights you once took for granted are being eroded at break neck speed. I see this, normal educated people see this, yet the MAGA brigade doesn't. This is dangerous, and creating a political climate of uncertainty, anxiety, and fear — The US is heading towards a dystopian future, with most peoples heads stuck in the sand, unable or unwilling to do anything to stop the barbarity unfolding on America's streets.

In four years time, my old home of Britain could also be facing a similar future. The worst case scenario would see Reform winning in any future general election, and The UK as I know it, would no longer exist. The NHS, Department of Education and International Development, and Department of Social Security, would all be under threat. Nationalistic, right wing politics could become rooted in a society, that used to have compassion, empathy and an open heart to anyone in need. This is more likely to happen now, after the success of Reform, than at any other time in living memory.


British Prime Minister Keir Starmer needs to wake up and start to deal with the huge problems facing the UK. All the public see is a failing system, higher taxes, two tear justice and immigration that is out of control. This isn't necessarily the case, but it is a perception conjured up by the right in order to gain support. Sir Keir needs to reconnect with those who voted for him and deal with the systemic crumbling of a political system that appears to be out of touch with ordinary people. If they don't grapple with the 'rot' that has caused generations of despair across the country, they will be booted out when the election is called in four years time.

Today I feel happy to be in a country, where the electorate voted for common sense, continuity, stability, and inclusive politics, as the World falls apart around us. Australia is the success it is, because of its welcoming nature. 33% of the population of Western Australia are immigrants, and that is what makes this State, unique. The prosperity I enjoy today, is because of the opportunities I have been afforded here, and although I do moan about Australia at times, I wouldn't change my place within it, for anything. This progressive, nurturing, all-embracing, beautiful country is, quite possibly, the best place to live in the world right now, and I am damn well thankful for that!
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Trying to locate my Grandfathers Arctic Convoy records!

4/5/2025

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Death of Pope Francis - A lurch to the right?

26/4/2025

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Currently, I am sat at home watching the funeral of Pope Francis, thousands of miles from Europe, and The Vatican City, where the late Pontiff is being laid to rest. This is a place Darrell and I have visited twice before; it is a city that left a lasting impression on me, and not for the reasons you may expect.

Darrell and I were staying in Rome for a few days, near to the Colosseum.  Just being in this ancient capital was a dream come true. Around every Roman corner, along every cobbled street and colourful piazza, this is indeed a city I love with all my heart. Italy itself is the most glorious Country I have ever visited, so steeped in history. Each Italian city we have stayed in hasn't failed to impress, but by far the most majestic, was The Vatican itself.

We walked through a busy St Peter's square; the sun shone brightly, illuminating our way towards the awe-inspiring Basilica — the Church of St Peter. This was a pilgrimage in all but name, for an art lover like me. I wanted to see every inch of this ancient wonder — every statue, fresco, painting, and tomb. As I entered the building, I wasn't disappointed; everywhere I looked, took my breath away; this church was there to impress people like me, The house of the eternal Father, on this mortal, fallible Earth. 

Darrell had walked on ahead, and I was left gingerly walking through the holiest place on the planet, when all of a sudden, I felt quite overcome — almost faint. I put my hand against a pillar, to steady my gaze. I was sweating profusely and experienced emotions, that I can't really describe. At this moment, a priest approached me and took my arm. I remember, he asked me if I was Italian, by uttering the word 'Italiano'. I shook my head and replied, 'Inglese'. He began speaking to me in broken English, assuring me, I would be OK, and helped me make my way outside.

I'm not really sure what happened that day, whether I had a panic attack, or a spiritual moment of enlightenment, but I did fall in love with The Vatican. After a breath of fresh air, I thanked the priest and after a few moments, made my way inside once more, where I finally caught up with Darrell. Together we continued our tour, and ended by rubbing the foot of St Peter, as thousands have done before, standing in wonderment at this magnificent building, just consuming the divine mysteries inside. 

As I grow older, I may well discover the reasons behind my 'experience' in St Peter's Basilica, or I just may put it down to a rather hot day in Rome, taking its toll. Whatever happened, I am well aware of the significance of the church in my life, no matter how small, and more importantly, I respect any man who has dedicated his life in the service of others. The Pope will indeed be remembered for his humbleness, wisdom, and ability to connect with the young, but for me, he will be the one Pope who very nearly brought me to his door. Now that is an achievement in my book. My Grandfather converted to Catholicism on his deathbed, like so many before him; it is a reminder of just how much we all change as we get older and discover faith we never knew we had!
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30 Years Together - A lifetime of paperwork!

20/4/2025

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​The countdown is on for our 30th Anniversary, a milestone by anyone's standards, let alone a couple of old gay men, who met in their early twenties in 1995. This year we will be travelling to Bangkok and Singapore, where we will spend two weeks visiting our favourite part of the World. For now, we are staying firmly in Australia. After I caught particularly nasty infections on the last two occasions we travelled abroad, we decided to leave it a year before travelling again, in the hope I am fully recovered.


This week's blog will be the first in a series, looking back at our thirty years together. We have certainly led a very different life to most of our peers, but I really wouldn't change that for the World. Darrell and I are not the high-flyers, that many of our friends and family are, but we have approached life in a very pragmatic way. We were always aware that the relationship we had would be difficult, so we understood, relatively early on, the limitations of success in our chosen fields. As a trained political expert, I never realised my dreams; nevertheless, both of us have built a happy, long-lasting partnership together, and at least now, we are finally making up for lost time!

In today's video log, I spoke about a subject, mundane to many, but life changing for us — paperwork! For the last three decades we have had to document our very existence to the authorities, of whichever country we were living in at the time. From The UK, Spain and Australia, we have had to keep every single receipt, bank statement and bill, indeed everything that was important, to prove we were in a committed relationship together. When we moved countries, we had to take an extra flight case full of paperwork, just to show we were still together. If I am honest, it has been a burden that completely changed the way we lived our life, and has left a lasting reminder on our daily routine — even now, 30 years later.

Today the World has changed — In Australia, Spain, and the UK, we have rights that we could have only dreamed of in 1995. Nevertheless, we have still had to document our relationship, only this time in a digital, rather than the usual paper centric way. Yes we still have to keep the significant, indispensable things, like old passports, mortgage forms and marriage and birth certificates, but we don't have to drag everything across the World with us, as we used too in the past.

You know what, I worked out the other day, that Darrell and I have moved over forty times during our life together, and every time, that large flight case of stuff came with us — until now. With the most important files with me in Australia, the remainder is with my Father, at his home in Britain. The day will come when it is transported over to our house in Australia, but until then, at least I know it's safe a sound.

When you meet the person you love, you never second guess how your life will pan out. You take each day at a time; you grow and experience things together, and you learn to accept that not everything will work out as you would have hoped. Despite the spontaneity of life, we have always had that nagging certainty, that wherever we went, we would always have to prove the enduring nature of our relationship together — that is very different to my friends and family.

The difficulties we experienced as a gay couple are still at the back of our minds, despite western societies moving on from the discrimination of the past.  I am especially conscious, of the rolling back of equal rights for gay people, in countries like the United States and Russia. For that reason, our relationship remains the most important achievement in my life. We have remained together despite everything that was thrown our way. After thirty years together, we still keep the receipts, mainly out of habit, and I am still personally documenting our life, even if it is in the form of a blog. I think until the day I die, I will always record events in a way no one else does, and that is quite simply, because of the official road we tread — In reality, it has left an indelible mark on my psyche.

I will be writing more blogs, celebrating our life together over the coming months, and hope you will join me in keeping our memories alive. If you find yourself in the same position as us, starting out on this rather bumpy rollercoaster ride, my advice to you is:  keep everything and never, ever, let the authorities get you down. When you finally win the battle, it will make all the fighting worth it, and that's all that matters. You won't remember the bad days, the difficult, challenging and traumatic ones, all you will think about the success you achieved, when the odds were against you, and the happiness you share, despite the anxiety you endured!
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Feeling Invisible as a gay man!

12/4/2025

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It's been a bit of a strange week for me, as I come to terms with that possible Glaucoma diagnosis. As you would expect, I have done a lot of research into the subject, and rather than make me feel more anxious, I am actually feeling rather philosophical about the whole thing. This isn't a condition I can change, so I just have to live with what may happen in the future. There is a lot they can do for me, should they need to, and I am as confident as I can be for the future.
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On Monday, I burnt my hand, while making dinner. After cooking Carrot and Thyme soup on the stove, I began to ladle it into the blender. After blending up the ingredients, I noticed it was leaking from the bottom. Lifting the jug up from the unit, hot, molten carrot soup, poured over my hand and down my leg. Bloody hell, did I scream!

I ran into the shower, jumped in and stood there naked, keeping my hand under a cold shower, for what seemed like hours. Meanwhile, poor Darrell, cleaned up the mess and ran out to get some ice, telling me to put my hand into ice-cold water on his return. As I know now, that was a mistake and undoubtably caused more damage to my skin.

In the end, the pain was so bad, I went to urgent care here in Midland, where my wounds were dressed by a nurse. She explained that the ice would have caused more damage to already damaged skin, and not to do it in future — that's highly unlikely, since I will never be making soup again! It seems that by running from the kitchen to the shower, I left the hot liquid on my skin for far too long, once again causing more damage. On top of this, I have lost the feeling in my thumb, as a result of nerve damage. This may or may not come back, all dependent on how deep the burn was.

Nevertheless, it seems to be healing neatly and thankfully looks a hundred times better than it did. I am hoping it will be more or less healed in another few days — fingers crossed.

​In my vlog today, I am discussing my feelings of loneliness and the difficulties I am experiencing as a gay man of a certain age. I am no longer the youngster I once was, and moving all over the World since my mid-forties has caused me to feel more and more invisible. Today in Australia, I have very few friends that I can talk to and confide in, relying heavily on friends back home in the UK.

Western Australia is a beautiful place, but the people tend to be rather insular and making a meaningful connection with anyone is hard. Currently, Darrell and I are on our own and have to rely on each other. When you receive difficult news from the Doctor, need a chat about issues you are experiencing on a daily basis, or just need a friend to have a drink with, you find yourself looking for the impossible; they just don't exist.

​I have spoken to many people here about how I feel, and with such a high immigrant population in the west , the majority of them agreed — Australia is a really hard place to integrate.

Despite this fact, neither Darrell nor I will be returning to the UK anytime soon. We have built a good life here, have a beautiful home and are getting ahead in a way we could have only dreamed of in Britain. Feeling invisible does have its advantages too. You can live your life as you think fit, and you don't have to make time for anyone else. I know that may sound sad, but this is the first time we have been in charge of our own destiny. We are doing exactly what we want, travelling to amazing places, and want for nothing. There is of course the nagging feeling of loneliness, but it is a sacrifice we are willing to make to get ahead.

​Nothing lasts forever, and I am sure our outlook may change in the future. For now, we are just happy to be in a good place and not at the mercy of a system that seeks to thwart your every endeavour. Yes, we do feel alone in this vast country at the edge of the World, but that's a cross we will have to bear and a sadness we will have to endure!

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Glaucoma?

6/4/2025

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I've been avoiding writing this blog today if I am honest — as someone with health anxiety, writing about a serious issue, that has now become an important part of my future, isn't something I want to be constantly reminded of. However, blogging is integral to my life, and it is necessary to document every aspect of it — good and bad.

Last Monday, I went for my biennial eye test; I could tell there had been changes in my sight and wanted to have them evaluated. I assumed I would just need an increased prescription and that would be that. Well, I was partly right! Yes, my eyes have changed, as one would expect after two years, but that wasn't the end of the story — something else was going on, something I had never heard of before.

Initially, the test progressed in the same way every other one had, and there were no real concerns. However, when my eye pressure (IOP) was taken, things took a rather worrisome turn. I had never really understood why air is blown onto the surface of the eye during the test, but my optician explained, it was to measure my eye pressure, in the same way blood pressure is taken on the arm.

I could tell something wasn't quite right because of her reaction; next she looked into my eye, to view my optic nerve. Once she pulled the apparatus away, she explained that there was a problem. IOP should be between 10 and 21 and mine was 23. This doesn't seem like a huge difference on the scale of things, but she emphasised it was significant, and I would have to undergo a 'field of vision test!'

Sat in a chair in a darkened room, I was told to focus on a yellow light. A series of green lights would flash, some more intense than others, and I would need to press a button to tell the operator when I saw the lights blinking, all the time focussing on the yellow light. This test was particularly taxing, and I was left rather tired by the end of it. I had to retake the test on my right eye twice, so they had a clear picture of what was going on with my peripheral vision.

Once the test was complete, I was taken to a room and told that I had high intraocular pressure. The optician said she couldn't see any damage to the Optic nerve currently, although there were abnormalities in my field of vision test. She explained I would have to be closely monitored, and if my pressures continued to rise, I would be referred to a specialist for treatment.

Understandably, I was shocked. This isn't something I can feel, so what exactly is high IOP. Well, it is a build up of fluid behind the eye, which presses on the optical nerve. The higher the pressure, the more damage potential there is. The optical nerve connects the eye to the brain, and any impairment will cause subsequent loss of sight. This isn't something that happens immediately, but over the course of years; left untreated, I will eventually go blind.

My optician asked me if any member of my immediate family had Glaucoma, and after a phone call with my Father that evening, it appears Mum did. This apparently increases my chance of getting Glaucoma tenfold, and could be the reason I am where I am today.

Understandably, I have been particularly depressed. My Optician has stressed, that if confirmed, I will not necessarily go blind. There are many treatments available — laser, eye drops and surgery, all employed to slow down and hopefully prevent blindness. Nevertheless, she didn't downplay what was happening, and said this condition is chronic, and I would have to undergo treatment for the rest of my life.

This is certainly a week I would rather forget and has left me feeling particularly down in the dumps; I never dreamt in a million years this would happen to me. At least they have discovered it now, hopefully early enough, to treat the symptoms of this debilitating condition, but that doesn't mitigate how serious this disease is. I am still debating whether to get a second opinion, but for now, I have been told I will be retested in six months, to check my pressures haven't risen further. This is not going to be the easiest six months of my life, but one I am just going to have to deal with, like everything else thrown my way! 
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Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!

30/3/2025

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This week I received a package from home. A friend I have known, since I worked at The Newcome Arms in Portsmouth, was chatting with me shortly after Christmas, about my new life in Australia. Gez was always a ray of sunshine — as I worked behind the bar, he often made me laugh and always made me feel welcome, included and appreciated, despite my rather dubious Bartender skills. He was, and undoubtedly still is, full of life, happy, and an absolute joy to be around. It's people like Gez I miss every day living in Perth, and one of the many reasons I still have a deep fondness for the country of my birth.

Gez was chatting about Christmas, and all the food he had to throw out, listing delicacies you can only find in Britain. Top of his list was good old 'Twiglets,' a savoury snack I have loved since I was a wee child. Apparently, according to my late Mother, 'Twiglets' are healthier than other similar treats, and I was actively encouraged to enjoy this acquired taste, in moderation of course.

Now, I have no idea if these are healthier than any other crisp, but they sure are tastier. Back in the day when I was young, these twig shaped Marmite sticks, were bigger than they are now. Apparently, health and safety deemed them a choking hazard; these twigs would often get stuck in my throat, so god knows what happened to other potential victims. However, I am digressing — Gez was explaining how much he disliked them, and just how many tubs he had thrown out, to my absolute horror.

​'Gez mate, No, don't do that, I love them. Rather than throw them out, send them my way!' Even though I can get Twiglets here in Australia, the packets are small, and they cost nearly $4.00 a time, and a tub of them is impossible to get. Consequently, I'd be more than happy to take them off Gezs' hands, despite being thousands of miles away.

To be honest, I didn't think anymore about our conversation, after my off the cuff comments, until Gez asked if he could have my address; he had something he wanted to send to me. Six weeks later, I received a rather large parcel at my parcel collect address here in Perth. For those of you who don't know what Parcel Collect is, let me enlighten you:

The postal service in Australia is particularly insecure, rather like it is in Spain. Having lived in both countries, I can't tell you how many times I have lost parcels in their respective postal systems, so having a secure address for deliveries is essential. Mail is normally delivered to post boxes at the end of drives, and these poorly maintained boxes are often broken into and items stolen.


The post office in Midland contacts me when mail arrives, and I collect it, mostly without a hitch. It had been six weeks since Gez sent his parcel, and I believed it had gone missing, as so many others do here. What with the floods over east, and the lack of tracking, there is any number of reasons why, but, when I picked it up, I could immediately see it was from Portsmouth, and I realised it was from Gez.

​Inside the box were four large tubs of 'Twiglets' and two jumbo jars of Marmite. Gez had remembered our conversation, and decided he would send me some provisions. He really does have a heart of gold and made my day. I haven't had British Marmite for years now, and although we do get 'Our mate,' which is the Aussie equivalent, it still doesn't taste quite the same; I was delighted to have some proper stuff from back home, and the taste is, well, glorious — if that's your kind of thing.

Living so far from home, you do begin to realise who your friends are. I was introduced to many new friends and colleagues while living in Portsmouth, and they are some of the best people I have ever met. Gez is an example of someone, who has quite simply left an indelible mark on my heart. When you meet the good ones in life, grab hold of them, keep them close and never let go — these are the friends who keep the memories alive, wherever I am in the World!

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Catching Up - Keeping our network alive!

24/3/2025

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It was great to catch up with our old friend Elaine this week. Elaine has been a close friend for twenty years now, and she is one of the people we miss most. Thankfully, with FaceTime and other forms of social media, we are still able to stay close.

Living on the other side of the World, can feel particularly isolating at times, especially when we have spent most of our life together, living in the UK, so any link to old friendships is welcome. 

Of course, as individuals, all our lives move on, but because the majority of our friends are in the UK, it makes it very difficult to move forward, in life, without them. This isn't me feeling sorry for myself, or regretting moving to Australia, this is about adapting, to accommodate our changing circumstances.

Making new friends, has been the biggest hurdle for us to overcome. We are not young anymore; people of our age normally have established friendships and a reliable network around them — we just don't, and that is making our life a lot harder than it should be. One has to remember, very few couples our age move from the UK to Australia, so the difficulties we experience are going to be markedly different to those of a younger age!

Both Darrell and I have always found British people easier to get along with, and more welcoming in nature. That isn't a swipe at Australians, but rather an admission that our roots lie firmly in the UK. If I am honest, I'm not sure if we will ever fully integrate into Australian life, especially with our circle of friends being so small. That does leave me with a huge sense of sadness, but it is also me coming to terms with the limitations of my new life in Perth. It is clear things will not be like they used to; we will never have the huge circle of people around us, we had in the past, but we should both do more to invite people into our life.

​After suffering at the hands of some truly dubious people over the last ten years, we do both find it hard to accept that other individuals are genuine and honest. Having said that, we have learnt many lessons in life, and I would consider myself a wonderful judge of character these days. However, I have to admit that I just do not have the time, will power or motivation to put in enough of an effort at the moment. The reality is, both Darrell and I are probably the reason, we live our life without significant friendships. It is our choice right now, and something we will hopefully change in the future. 

Our priority is our future, and that has to take priority. Paying the mortgage and bills will always be top of our list. When we finally do invite others into our life, it will be when we think it will be beneficial, and work for us as a couple. Until then, we still have our very strong network of mates in the UK, and that's all we appear to need at the moment.

Everything I have said doesn't detract from those I have personally met in Perth; Darrell has some truly wonder friends, from way back when, who I feel extremely comfortable with. They do of course have their own lives to lead, so catching up can be tough at times. Both of us need to learn to relax more, enjoy the life we have built, and gradually become the people we used to be — Easier said than done I know, but not insurmountable!

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Talking about the Netflix drama, Adolescence!

22/3/2025

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    51-year-old Author and professional blogger. Expat formerly living in Gran Alacant on the Costa Blanca! Currently, residing in my adopted home of Perth, Western Australia.

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