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Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!

30/3/2025

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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Reflections of a 90s Club Kid!

16/3/2025

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This week, I managed to talk to my old friend, Dom, back in The United Kingdom. Sadly, these days, we don't talk as often as we should, but it does make it all the more special when we do.

It's fantastic to see that some people just don't change, and Dommy is just the same as I've always known him. When you live so far away from friends, you do tend to value the times you catch up more and more. The fact is, I've become rather sentimental in my old age, and as today's video shows, I am reflecting on the past more and more; that is definitely a sign of aging, and appreciating the memories I made, getting to where I am today.

In today's video, I am referencing a particularly memorable time in my life. In fact, I think it is safe to say, the most important period in my life so far. The years 1990–1995 were years of growth, self-discovery and finally coming to terms with my sexuality. This particular chapter really defined the person I am today, and despite coming of age at a time of great discrimination and inequality, I was grateful for the people who were a part of my life at the time. Without them, things would have been much tougher than then they already were. My naturally anxious disposition was kept at bay, through the influences of friends, who knew me more, than I probably knew myself.

In 1990, I was a respectable civil servant, responsible for planning a large area of London for the 1991 census, in my role as an Enumeration District Planner. This was a great job with amazing prospects for the future, but as I cautiously navigated my way in the world, I threw caution to the wind. I gave up my career, for a life, that even I couldn't have imagined.

This was the age I discovered my sexuality and came out to close friends. My first boyfriend, in 1990, was a stepping stone to the life I lead, 35 years later. Initially hesitant, as I denied who I really was, I soon found kindred folk, other gay people just like me, as I returned to full-time education in Southampton.

I suppose I could say my life spiralled out of control at this point, as University life became one long party, where lectures, work, and knuckling down often took second place. Maybe if I had chosen a course that I was actually interested in, things would have been very different. However, I did what was expected of me, and not what I really wanted to do. The actor and writer that really pushed my buttons, were just too far out of reach. In my mind, I would never be good enough, so I gave up at the first hurdle.

Despite my failings, which are many, I wouldn't change this period for the World. Not only did I discover the person inside me, I also met the most eclectic group of people I could have ever wished for. My network was vast and diverse, and I am lucky enough to still be in contact with many of these friends even today. That is testament to their welcoming nature, and an appreciation of the often chaotic times we all spent together, at a time of World change, and the birth of equal rights for all.

This was five years that aged me out of all recognition, but for the right reasons. In my early twenties, I finally discovered what being gay was all about. I made so many mistakes along the way, hanging out with the wrong people, doing things I shouldn't and not working hard enough to succeed financially, but the experiences I had were worth every bad choice I made.

All of my strong, enduring relationships, were born between 1990-1995, this tumultuous, topsy-turvy five-year time frame, including my current marriage to husband Darrell in 1995. Had I done the right thing and continued my career in Her Majesties Civil Service, my life would have been very different today. The disparity would have been stark, so much so, I may have even been married with kids, waiting for the day, I could finally come out, like so many I have known, and often criticised myself.

So no, I wasn't the success I planned to be, I battle more today than I ever have done, but my affluence is my encounters, exploits, adventures and endurances, culminating in the long, loving relationship I still enjoy. That's all that matters, that's everything I ever wanted — the money, fame, and fortune were nothing more than a superficial dream!

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Donald Trump and the rise of the far right!

9/3/2025

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Just two old 90s clubbers, no longer living life in the fast lane!

3/3/2025

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This Monday is Labour Day in Australia and a long weekend for most of us, as we enjoy the last month or so of Summer. Darrell is working today, so it gives me an opportunity to sit down and do some blogging. I won't be going out, and I am taking the opportunity to relax and unwind, after a particularly difficult few weeks!

My sleeping has been rather erratic if I am honest; one day I sleep well, the next, anything but. Ever since I moved from Spain to my Aunts house in Britain in 2018, my sleeping patterns have just got worse. Living in Portsmouth, surrounded by my adorable Cousins, was an experience I wouldn't change for the World. They were particularly young, however, and would often wake up in the early hours of the morning. Consequently, I found myself getting up earlier and earlier. Today I am awake by 4 am most days. Despite this, it hasn't affected my work, whether blogging, writing or my retail job. In fact, I thrive on getting up at the crack of dawn, especially enjoying this beautiful time of day.

When I get home from work, I eat my rather small dinner — usually I wouldn't eat after 4.30pm, but because of my job, this just isn't possible. Instead, I eat a large lunch and keep it simple in the evening. After dinner, I briefly sit down for an hour, watching GB News from home, or YouTube, and I am in bed by 8.30 pm — what a life eah! It certainly isn't the rock and roll lifestyle I used to have when I was younger, or even when I was living in Spain, but it serves us well at the moment. As we work hard to pay off the mortgage in a record 9 years, we are hopefully improving our options for the future, and this is important!

I find myself becoming a lot more reclusive as I get older — I stumbled across a cucumber in the freezer this morning, and thought f*ck, is this the first sign of dementia. I decided not to google the implications of this mishap and just put it to the back of my mind. Furthermore, I think, I was probably half asleep whilst making lunch and accidentally put it in the top of the freezer, instead of the vegetable draw of the fridge. Oh, and I can draw a clock face perfectly (if you can't, it is probably a sign of cognitive decline!) And of course, writing helps to keep my brain active, which is always great, especially recalling memories, I would have otherwise forgotten.

I have also had a few knee and leg issues for the last couple of weeks, which has been rather annoying. I had a feeling the aches and pains had something to do with my feet. Don't ask me why, it was just a feeling I had. So, I did some googling, carried out a few tests, and discovered I have high arches — who'd have thought it. I always believed I had flat feet, but no, completely the opposite.

After doing some research online, I discovered the Skechers shoes I normally wear, may not be right for my feet. I came across a brand of shoes called 'Hoka' that may just help with the pain after a long day at work. It turns out the shoes were quite easy to procure and last Sunday I went to 'Athletes Foot,' a shop in Australia, and spoke to a lovely lad called Bradly, who helped me with my concerns.

For the first time, since I was a child, I had my feet measured and my walk or 'gait' assessed — finally I got some answers. I have different size feet, which are a D width and yes, I have those dreaded high arches. I asked Bradly about the "Hoka' shoes online, and he selected three pairs that would be suitable. At a cost of $300, they aren't cheap, but after wearing them for a week now, my feet feel bloody fantastic.

It's very odd getting old, I am finding it particularly difficult and challenging. I appear to have a new ailment every day, and it does get me down. The aches and pains never seem to get any easier, and both Darrell and I constantly moan about the way we are feeling — just two old 90s clubbers no longer living life in the fast lane. When I look back over the ten years since starting this blog, I am aware, that my health and wellbeing has changed out of all proportion. When I lived in Spain, I didn't really have a care in the World. I would drink copious amounts of beer whenever I wanted; equally, I would eat terribly and smoke cheap Spanish cigarettes, not giving my health a second thought.

When I returned to the UK, suddenly my health became a priority, especially after watching my mother die in hospital in 2019. Instantly, I began suffering with health anxiety, and every little twinge sent me running to see the Doctor. Today, even though I am better in many respects, I have been left with a huge anxiety hangover and still worry about my body and approaching old age. I was hoping that would disappear in time, but it hasn't. As I've gotten older, more perceived afflictions have come to the fore, consequently my health anxiety remains, albeit in a much milder form.

This evening, I've just gotten off the phone with my father. We don't talk as often as I would like, but surprisingly we both have busy lives to contend with. Dad is 77 and remains fairly active and probably has more of a social life than me. When we speak, it's about our respective ailments/illnesses, and it's great to connect with him on these very important issues; the reality is, I don't have anyone else to talk to, about them.

Dad is getting older and the niggly conditions he has, seem to be worsening, as one would expect. For this reason, I worry about him constantly. It is difficult living so far away, and there are times I would dearly love to be closer. When I am able, I hope to return to see Dad, probably next year. We haven't seen each other in two and a half years and my father is the only real family I have left now, so it is essential we stay as close as we can despite the distance between us.

We also enjoy talking about politics — tonight we discussed President Trump and the shameful way he treated President Zelenskyy in the Whitehouse. Like Dad, I am shocked and disgusted by this strange Trumpian World we are now living in, and both of us are concerned about the way the World is heading.

I am frequently told I am living in the safest place, down under, as the rest of the World appears to be heading closer to war. Nevertheless, with Dad back in Britain and my friends also firmly back home, my anxiety is becoming worse. I wake every morning expecting more bad news from America and an increasingly unhinged President, creating mayhem and madness wherever he goes. This isn't a World I like anymore, and I fear for all our futures, as we continue the march to World War III. It's thoughts like these that concern my sensibility but also keep me grounded, and fully aware of circumstances that affect us all, no matter where we live in the World!

I suppose today has been about getting stuff off my chest, which is what a personal blog is all about. A reader of roamingbrit wrote to me a few days ago, explaining how blogs such as mine are few and far between now. Most blogs are trying to sell something, advertise corporate sponsorship or encourage readers to click on this link or that. This decade old diary, however, is just about a simple, personal journey that continues, often in the most mundane way.

People like to feel a part of another person's life, like big brother looking in, and I am happy to share my experiences. I hope it helps people like you on your own travels, navigating this complicated, frustrating and often complicated and confusing battle called life; I am thankful it also helps me, even on the darkest of days. Life goes on, bloggers keep blogging, Trump keeps bullying, and my anxiety still persists, but hey, at least it gives me something to write about!

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

Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!

Catching Up - Keeping our network alive!

Talking about the Netflix drama, Adolescence!

Reflections of a 90s Club Kid!

Donald Trump and the rise of the far right!

Just two old 90s clubbers, no longer living life in the fast lane!

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