Category: Current Affairs Politics

Death of Pope Francis - A lurch to the right?

26/4/2025

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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Talking about the Netflix drama, Adolescence!

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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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Weekly Catch Up!

27/1/2025

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I've had a relatively quiet few weeks, even by Australia's standards. After two years living in Perth, I am still getting used to the laid back vibe down under. In the past I would have run back to the bright lights of London in a heart beat, today, I am happy to take it easy and enjoy the fruits of my labour.

Of course, I still have a connection to Britain; my Father and friends are still there, and I keep in contact as much as I can. I also still have great affection to my birth town of Portsmouth, where I also lived for four years, before moving to Perth.

My love to this great naval city has been immortalised by local Portsmouth artist, Hannah Marsh, who I commissioned to create a watercolour painting, of a public house, close to my heart. I worked at The Newcome Arms for three years, even during the pandemic, and the love of the place, and the customers I served, was enough for me to have this special memory created. When you live on the other side of the World, it is important to surround yourself with reminders of the past, it makes the transition period so much easier.

I was lucky enough to be able to spend time, with my old colleagues over the last couple of weeks, in the shop where I began my journey in Australia. It was fantastic to catch up with them for a few days, as they prepared for the new opportunities ahead. Returning to my old work place was a genuinely happy experience. I still work within the same parent company, and I am continually impressed by the culture they foster. Not since I worked for Tesco, have I felt more comfortable in a position I love. Like Tesco, they have created a very inclusive environment; this is extremely important for such a large company, and speaks volumes for those who work there. For a gay man like me, feeling accepted is a huge thing, and I am grateful for having a wonderful place to work!

More memories of home, as I received a Lego set depicting a red London telephone box. A reminder of my childhood right there. As a kid, I remember phoning friends in the telephone box at the end of our street. In a time before mobile phones, this was where I stayed in touch with mates from school. Armed with a pocket full of two pence pieces, I would spend time, chatting away, unaware of a queue forming outside, waiting to do the same. This was also a place where I could smoke a cigarette in peace, and drink a bottle of coke from the local shop. Both things forbidden by Mum and Dad.

The red telephone box now has pride of place in my dining room and always makes me smile as I walk past!

Of course, it wouldn't be Australia, without a quick mention of the weather. This last week has been dominated by a heatwave, here in the west of the country. Temperatures soared to a high of 45 and remained high for almost seven days. Luckily for me, working in an air-conditioned building, it isn't too much of an issue. For Darrell however, working in a workshop, things are very different — He hasn't been enjoying it, not one bit!

I love the heat and really don't complain about it at all. I was forever complaining about the cold in the UK and also during the winter in Perth, but the heat doesn't bother me at all. In fact, I am already looking at holidays in tropical Asia, when winter returns — probably a short break in July.

This time we are looking at either seven days in Bali or back to our favourite destination of Thailand. I don't want to take a long ten-hour flight like last time, preferring not to contract another infection on the way home, unlike the last two times we travelled abroad.

For now, I am happy enough to enjoy the sun, even though I am too tight to turn on the air conditioner. Rather like central heating, the costs of running such a system can be high. Even though electricity costs are a third of what they are in the UK, I am still very frugal with money, which is testament to my time living in Spain and the simple life I enjoyed.

... And with the heat, comes spiders. This week I have caught a couple of Redbacks and a father large huntsman in my letter box outside. I am, of course, no fan of these pests, but I am gradually getting used to them. Today, I keep my wits about me, and I am fully versed in where these horrible things live. Yesterday I made Darrell hose down the washing line outside, another home from home for our Redback friends. As long as I am aware of these arachnids, I am happy to live alongside them. As with everything in Australia, it's about having respect for the surrounding wildlife!

Another hot week beckons in Perth, probably the hottest state in Australia, and I am looking forward to more of the same. Summers are long in Australia, so I am in my element most of the time. A friend asked me just the other day, when am I coming home to visit… My answer, 'not anytime soon!' Today I am happier than I've ever been, and the UK is fast becoming a distant memory and not a place I want to visit anytime soon — until then, I am happy to carry on forging a new, productive life down under and enjoying everything this state has to offer. When the time is right, I will go back home, creating more memories to bring back with me!

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Spain, Britain, or Australia — Which Healthcare System is the best?

4/12/2024

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Anxiety About Nuclear War!

23/11/2024

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Smoking - Addicted from an early age!

1/9/2024

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A few farewell drinks for a colleague, has brought back memories of a rebellious teenagehood and surviving in an ever-evolving World. So much has changed since that first cigarette aged thirteen, in the old pig sty, in the forest, at the end of Fareham Park Road; I can barely remember, why I began smoking in the first place. Whatever the reasons, it became such a big part of my life, that it will likely affect me until the day I die.

It's funny to think, that a small white stick, that I believed to be an innocent tool to relieve anxiety, was in fact a highly addictive, poisonous vice, that I should have never taken up in the first place. Of course, I am the only person to blame for that; I was the one who started thirty-three years of smoking, and I was the only one who could stop it.

One of my biggest regrets in life, was starting to smoke in the first place, but without It, I wouldn't have met the people I did, socialised with confidence, and enjoyed the perceived freedom it gave me. That cigarette did initially represent my rebellious nature, and a desire to act in a way my parents disapproved of; in the end, however, it became a millstone, and a catalyst for the health anxiety I suffer with today.

I do wish I had never started my love affair with the dreaded cancer stick, but I did — it is a part of who I am, and I can't change that. Like most things I did in life, I have no regrets; if I hadn't taken up smoking, I probably would have led a very different life. The lifestyle choices I made as I grew up, went to college and university, are a direct response to my love of smoking. Yes it was love at first puff and here began the story of my life.

First and foremost, I smoked to relieve the pressure of school, while I came to terms with my sexuality. At the time, the dreaded Section 28, prevented me from seeking help and advice, whilst coming to terms with my emerging homosexuality, and anything that helped me relax was welcome. Cigarettes allowed me to take my mind off a highly stressful period, dominated by the AIDS epidemic and my own fears for the future.

From dance clubs in the 90s, after parties with new friends, long smoke filled flights with my partner to Australia (Well it was the 90s), cigarettes were there in my man bag, as a crutch to get me through the trauma of life. Despite the health implications, that I became aware of, the older I got, I continued to smoke more cigarettes, up to eighty a day at one stage. At thirty years old, I was a walking heart attack and I longed for the day, I could finally stub out my last fag.

Well to cut a long story short, today I am smoke-free since 2018, and will never again let another cigarette cross my lips. After thirty plus years of smoking, I know the damage I have caused, and the future implications of my actions, but for now, I am healthy enough and able to live a full life. My advice to anyone still smoking, is give up. Anything Governments can do to prevent people from smoking or vaping in the first place, is welcome. Eventually there needs to be a ban, so no one again has to suffer the pain of disease through smoking. Anything we can do to hurry that process along is welcome — rather than ignoring the facts around smoking related disease, we should educate ourselves, and finally, bin the fag once and for all; it's the right thing to do!

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

Death of Pope Francis - A lurch to the right?

Talking about the Netflix drama, Adolescence!

Donald Trump and the rise of the far right!

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

Talking Trump!

Brexit - 5 Years On!

Weekly Catch Up!

Spain, Britain, or Australia — Which Healthcare System is the best?

Anxiety About Nuclear War!

Smoking - Addicted from an early age!

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