I've always had a keen interest in all things spiritual, believing in an afterlife and the power of mediums to channel energy. Whilst searching through some personal items today, I came across a cassette tape, produced by Terri Day in 2002, during a psychometric reading I had with her in December of that year. To be honest, listening to that recording today, I have been transported backwards twenty years. I remember the conversation I had with her in her House in Salisbury. She was an extremely nice, agreeable person, who through the power of jewellery, tried to analyse me and my life. Terri came highly recommended by a friend and at the time, sceptically, I took the plunge and booked an appointment to see her.

In many respects I have always been open to people like Terri; I really do believe there are people who can see past the earthly plane we live on. As a person who is constantly seeking answers for different aspects of life, Mediumship offers a way to make sense of confusion, in a way we can't always determine ourselves.

I have included an extract from the recording on that day, so readers can make what they will of her abilities. At the time I thought she was remarkably accurate in her assessment of my life, but much of what she said could have been interpreted in any number of ways. She didn't really tell me anything enlightening or miraculous; in fact she misunderstood many aspects of my life, especially my personal life. Her evaluation was completely off kilter, referring to my partner Darrell as 'her' and not even understanding we were living and working together on a daily basis. Today, listening to the recording I am disappointed at her reading and can only come to the conclusion, that she wasn't necessarily the person she claimed to be.

That is quite difficult for me to say, admitting that a Clairvoyant wasn't accurate, but that is the truth of my experience; I can't say I recognised much of what she said. I am not saying for one-minute Miss Day was fraudulent or deceptive in nature, but I don't believe she had clairvoyant ability. Nevertheless, Terri sparked an inquisitiveness in the supernatural side of life for me. Her reading in 2002 was the beginning of an interest in the occult that still remains prominent and part of who I am.

I began to read and appreciate the different ways one can tap into the unconscious and really understand a person. I spent the next ten years studying Chiromancy or Palmistry to the layman and entered a World that gripped my imagination. So obsessed with the meaning of life and how to interpret our journey in this World, I turned my interest into a passion, that still exists today.

I would often read friends and strangers hands and would not only surprise myself, but also others, in just how much you could tell about another person, just by looking at the lines on the palmar surface. I have often been blown away by the circumstances and events I have seen mapped before me; I truly believe all of us have the ability to understand ourselves more, by looking at the lines on our hands, but acknowledge it isn't always possible for everyone to grasp that narrative before them.

In complete contrast to Clairvoyance, Palmistry offers a tangible insight into a persons mind. Mediumship relies on faith and a belief in an individual; we are hopeful they are honest and true and can do what they portend, but there will always be an element of trust involved. A Medium can research and investigate, to obtain information by dishonest means. Only the person having a reading can really determine if it is sincere and reliable. Throughout my audience with Terri, I didn't feel entirely comfortable with her commentary and if I am brutally honest, she didn't really understand who I was at all.

Then of course there was the so-called psychic who had spent three months living with my dead Grandmother. When a work colleague contacted me, claiming of her ability to contact the afterlife, including my Grandmother, I was in no position to disbelieve her. This unscrupulous person even came to my home as a trusted friend and confidante, to help Darrell and I meditate and open our minds to the concept of the spirit world. Spending an hour 'opening our chakras,' she spuriously pretended to help us see past our own scepticism. Self-evidently, it was all nonsense and this unethical reprobate, just wanted to cause us maximum hurt and pain. For a while I did believe her and thought she was a friend, but as time moved on, I saw past the lies and her disruptive shenanigans, discovering she wasn't the person I thought she was. Most people understood her true nature at the time and could only shrug, hold their hands in the air and say, they told us so. I only had myself to blame, wanting to believe in her more than anything else; I was blinded from the truth!

My next brush with the transcendental came with a trip to see my all-time hero 'Psychic Sally,' at The Mayflower Theatre in Southampton. I used to watch her television show all the time, as often as I could. When I found out she was going on tour, I just had to go. I had high expectations for the evening, but sadly ended up very disappointed. Her live performance was particularly mediocre, and I didn't feel she was genuinely tapping into the spirit World. My interest in her diminished shortly afterwards and her perceived lack of ability turned me away from parapsychology completely, as I sort answers to problems elsewhere. I am not saying for one minute that Sally Morgan was a fake, far from it, but she just didn't connect with me, in a way I hoped she would; for someone seeking answers, that is important!

Today, I continue to read palms when I can and still have that curiosity in divination, I think I probably always will. I have a packet of tarot cards, placed under my bed, wrapped in a silk scarf and often ask them questions. I watch 'Most Haunted,' read my horoscope in the newspaper and stumble across fortune telling websites; Yes, I still have an enthusiasm for anything that can't be explained. However, I am more realistic with rationales and remain a sceptic, until convinced to the contrary. Something inside me will always want to believe, no matter how much I am persuaded otherwise, but until I really understand the nature of spirituality, I will continue to wrestle with my conscience, searching for aggregates and reading between the lines!

In 1999, I was asked to write an article for my local newspaper, the Southern Daily Echo, in reply to an unprovoked, scathing attack on the gay community, by a local Member of Parliament. I had initially written a letter to the editor in response to an article, composed by Sir Desmond Swayne MP, detailing his objections to the lowering of the age of consent for gay men, to equal that of our heterosexual counterparts. The article he wrote was a shuddering diatribe about homosexual men and the lifestyles we were accused of leading. His comments were hurtful, degrading and utterly appalling. After reading his piece, I had to put pen to paper and make my voice heard.

Immediately I contacted the Editor, utterly horrified that this article was allowed to be printed in the first place. The words Sir Desmond wrote were extremely disturbing and at times defamatory in nature. I didn't recognise the wayward description of my homosexual brethren and I didn't understand why someone could be so misguided in their views.

The editor explained his stance on the matter and asked if I would like to write a column the following week, in reply to Sir Desmond. Still incensed about the 'out of touch' MP, I sat down to write what I considered to be a measured and fair reply. The reality is, I just wanted to knock the guy out, but that would have just reinforced his bigoted views, making me the degenerate he referred to, all to frequently in his composition.

Every time I have seen this man, still Member of Parliament for the New Forest, on television, I have literally switched over, or growled vocally at the screen. I have had no time for him ever since and just cringed at his lack of knowledge on a subject, he really should have researched before launching into a public attack.

Imagine my surprise today, while browsing through the newspaper headlines on the internet, as I do every morning, when I came across this article from Sir Desmond Swayne. I thought to myself, 'oh God here we go again, the old bugger is off on his usual rant, about the evils of homosexuality!' However, NO, No, this was a discourse about change and how Sir Desmond had seen the light and admitted how wrong he was..... I don't mind telling you, I was gobsmacked; this was a man holding his hands up and saying he was mistaken and inaccurate in his assessment of gay men and incorrect for saying the things he did, and I couldn't quite believe it!

Personally I am not sure such a man can change so much. Don't get me wrong if he has really seen the light, then I embrace him with open arms. But hugging Sir Desmond is probably not going to happen anytime soon. This person had such anti-gay views, that I just can't see how they have transposed out of all recognition. Homophobia is a particularly entrenched attitude, one that usually takes generations to change. One man miraculously reforming overnight is a little hard to believe, though it has to be said, not impossible.

Rest assured, I will be writing to Sir Desmond Swayne, after I finish this article to discover just what has happened. It would be great to stand up and admit I was wrong for thinking a leopard never changes its spots, but is he really a rehabilitated character?.... Whatever happens, I must go and have a lie down; once again, the World is a little stranger, my head a little foggier and in retrospect that column I wrote in 1999 may never have happened at all!

On Saturday I went with two friends, Debbie and Hayley to the 'Let's Rock Southampton' festival, a train ride away, in the City where I lived for over twenty years. It was a blisteringly hot day, perfect for enjoying the now familiar music festival organised annually on the south coast. This isn't a festival for teenagers and young adults, this is a retro 1980s homage, where most of the party goers are in their late 40s early 50s. Despite being busy, with thousands of people in attendance, there was no trouble or antisocial behaviour found at similar events!

As a rule you will never see me at a concert or festival, it really isn't my thing. I can't think of anything worse being surrounded by crowds of people, paying for overpriced substandard food in searing heat or even worse, pouring rain. However this was an event I was looking forward to. I am a fan of all things 80s and of course enjoy the music from the era. This was a day I was determined to enjoy, spending time with Debbie and Hayley, which is always a pleasure.

As we approached the park, I was contacted by Dom an old friend, who used to live with me back in the year 2004. Dom was with his friend Lizi, who I also knew and they wanted to meet in the park. I haven't seen Dom since I returned to the UK last year and was excited he was coming. He was in fine fettle and I was absolutely overjoyed to be spending the day with him and Lizi as well. It really did bring back so many memories of our time together, clubbing in Bournemouth and London. Happy memories on  a perfect day!

The queues getting into the park were long and I was expecting a two hour wait, but the lines of party goers soon disappeared and we were through the gates within twenty minutes. The acts had just started on stage and we quickly made our way to the Pimms tent and bought a jug for twenty eight pounds, hugely expensive and with a low level of alcohol, that never really hit the spot. A small bottle of beer wasn't much cheaper, at five pounds a pop, but was far more enjoyable and I was more than happy to pay the price.  With burgers costing on average eight pounds and a small tub of chinese food over a tenner, this really wasn't going to be a cheap day.

The reason we were all there was the music and for the most part I wasn't disappointed. Westworld and Toyah were amazing and really put me in a good mood for the rest of the day. I used to be a big fan of Toyah's, so it was fantastic to finally see her live. I have no idea how old she is now, but her voice was just as good as I remember. Listening to these two acts really felt like stepping back in time, in a good way...I haven't been to a festival before but suddenly felt a conversion coming on, maybe this would be the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

Whilst enjoying a quick pit stop - Chinese Chicken and rice and a pint of Fosters, Belinda Carlisle came on stage. Now she was the act I most wanted to see, one of my all time favourite artists. Quickly I ran through the thronging crowd to get a good view; she was amazing, looking fantastic for her age and her voice was just as I remember. The music was flawless and her performance was the best experience of the whole day.

The eighties were indeed a special time for me. I was born in 1971 and grew up through what I consider to be the best decade, at least of my lifetime. The music, television, films and emerging technological revolution were a catalyst for my memories today. Standing in a field with thousands of others, on a hot summers day in 2019, I was transported back 35 years, reliving a youth that seemed like only yesterday. Someone once said to me, 'if you could go back and live your life again, would you?' There was only one answer I could give to that....A firm unequivocal YES; I would go back tomorrow and relive those years and all the others I survived, again and again and again.

Life teaches us many lessons and I have much to learn from the last four decades. So much has happened and even more has gone wrong, but it is true to say, the eighties were the first and last best years of my life; thereafter my life took many wrong paths. The 1980s were a time of great change, not only for me, but also the World. The messages in the music of the time spoke of a better future for all and although these years were not the best for everyone, they were for me. My life as an impressionable teenager began in 1982 and as I adapted to adulthood, the eighties took a final bow. Ten years of adventure, self determination and expression soon became a distant memory and I became the person I am today, a product of a time that I wont easily forget! Long live the 80s!

A few months ago someone I once knew, was sentenced to life in Prison for murdering his partner. Shane Roberts (Not his real name) viciously attacked his girlfriend Marie with a baseball bat, before stabbing her in the neck with a shard of glass from a broken mirror. I was in two minds whether to write anything about this incident, but felt compelled to after the impact he had on my life and that of my friends! Initially I was going to write about this incident in December, when his sentence was announced, but felt the trauma for all those involved was too raw and left it until today, before writing these words!

Shane was introduced to me and others by a mutual friend and at first we all got on well as a group. He had a charm about him that was actually quite endearing, but on occasion, a nasty side would surface; alarm bells would ring. During this time he formed a relationship with one of my friends, who I will call Lisa; consequently she became pregnant with his child, giving birth to a lovely baby girl, who it has to be said, is a credit to her, bringing her up extremely well, away from the destructive influence of her Father.

Like Marie, this young Mum went through a difficult time, suffering abuse on a daily basis. On one occasion I witnessed him attack her and it wasn't long before these two individuals split and went their separate ways; this wasn't the end of the matter however and Shane continued to make life difficult for Lisa and others who knew her! After giving evidence to the Police, Shane was ordered to stay away, but continued to harass those who knew her best, turning up on my doorstep, pleading for help before I left to live in Spain. At the time I felt guilty about not letting him into my home, but realise now, I could have had a lucky escape.

I had very little contact with Shane after we moved abroad, but did hear from him from time to time, usually a sob story about how his life was going and how the World was against him. Lisa had also moved on, but still looked over her shoulder, wondering when he would turn up and the circle of strife would start all over again. All the while Shane continued down a reckless path, frequently arrested and spending time in jail.

When I announced I was returning to the UK on 25 May 2018, Shane was the first person I heard from, trying to arrange a meeting, wanting to see me urgently, for reasons unknown. He bombarded my mobile night and day and eventually I blocked him from social media and my phone. This isn't the course of action I would have followed in the past, always trying to do what I could to help someone who needed it most, but something told me it was the right thing at the time. I have become a very good judge of character in recent years and without exception follow my gut instinct, when deciding whether or not to remove someone from my life.

As a trained Mentor and Advocate, I was always aware of how to deal with certain individuals and used my experiences to help those unfortunate souls who had lost their way in life. Part of my skills, learned whilst working for 'Action for Children,' was my ability to listen and articulate what I had heard, in order to create a dialogue between two inherently opposed sides. I have always been a good negotiator and do my best to achieve an amicable outcome for all, without the need for confrontation and conflict. I see the good in people and want them to succeed and overcome adversity, because all of us deserve the same chances in life. Shane however pushed me to the limits of what I could reasonably do and sadly I chose to give up on him as a person. This had rarely happened in my life, but one must reasonably know when to draw the line.

When I was told what had transpired between Shane and his partner, I was shocked. I knew this guy had his problems, but didn't think for one minute he could be a murderer; although thinking logically, what does a murderer actually look and act like anyway?

Yesterday I was asked if I wanted to do some more advocacy work, with a leading British charity, something I have agreed to think about. Today I lead a very busy life and rarely have time to think, but I am always open to new challenges and understand I can make a difference to other peoples lives. There will always be people like Shane in the World, people that can't be assisted, but there are also others who may have just gone off the rails and can be encouraged to mend their ways. I often think 'what if?' in Shane's case, but am frequently reminded that he was a person who couldn't be helped in the end. Rather than beating myself up over a man who will spend the rest of his life in jail, I should be concentrating on those he left behind, the real victims and providing a voice, a shoulder to cry on and a catalyst for expression.

I hope to channel my time and energy into helping those who need it most and will likely accept an offer to become an advocate once again. The personalities and characters we meet throughout our lives are a benchmark for the future. I hope to use my experiences with Shane to push me forwards along roads I haven't travelled before. As his memory fades, new impressions will take his place and the negativity that surrounds his departure will become a positive change for the future!

A new group has been established on facebook entitled 'Magnum Club - Southampton!' The group, dedicated to all those who used to attend this iconic nightclub in Southampton, has well over three hundred members now and is growing everyday. It was set up by former Manager David Moss, a person I know well from my years living in the city. Members are taken on a journey back in time, familiar faces, stories, photographs and club memorabilia are the backbone of this page. People who used to go to this nightclub in the St Mary's area of Southampton are able to chat with one another and relive their past, spent dancing the night away in a club that focused predominantly on the gay community that it served.

The Magnum opened its doors in 1969; if my memory serves me right, it was the oldest gay club in the Country until it closed in Easter 2004. My journey, as a fully fledged gay man, if there is such a thing, began in 1992, when I first walked through the ominous black doors of the club, on the corner of the road where I used to live. I was a student and had just 'come out' to University friends. I knew the Magnum was a gay venue, but had never actually been inside, until I plucked up the courage one Friday night in November, during my first year living in Southampton.

As I sharply knocked on the door, a rectangle peep hole opened, a voice echoing beyond, asking me if I knew what kind of establishment I was hoping to enter. Avoiding eye contact, I nodded my head and was duly invited inside. This was the first time I had been in any such place and was mesmerized by my first trip into the unknown. I was drunk and got even drunker as the night progressed enjoying my new found freedom  and a long list of phone numbers I had collected by the end of the evening. It wasn't long before I was walking through those doors again and again and again.

The years between 1992 and 2000 were important to me; apart from spells living in Australia, Southampton was my home and The Magnum was a place I frequented regularly, celebrating my sexuality, around like minded individuals. I met my first, second and current long term partner in this place and spent many years getting to know those who called it 'their own!' The sense of belonging in  this club was palpable, friends returning night after night, week after week. The Magnum was at the centre of a large, close-knit  and at times difficult gay community. This club had hosted many events, celebrated innumerable milestones and witnessed a sea change in attitudes towards the very people it served; it was a monument to the struggle every gay person fought to legitimise their place in the World. When one entered the club, one suddenly became the majority, the discrimination disappeared and all of us could be who we damn well wanted to be. A club so steeped in history had become the benchmark for the future all of us enjoy today.

At forty eight years old, I look back with fondness at this period of my life. I met many wonderful personalities at The Magnum, many of whom I remain in contact with today. The impact they had on my life has become more relevant as I have grown older. Dancing, chatting eagerly with new found friends and escaping the harsh realities of 90s Britain was life enhancing and allowed me to discover who I really was. I liked my first experience of the gay scene and the club at its very heart and clambered for more. Of course the more you immerse yourself in a group or institution like The Magnum, the more familiar your colleagues become. The people I met there were akin to family and bonds were formed, relationships blossomed and inevitable arguments and distrust occurred, all part of the course when you live your life in close proximity with others, who also walked through the door of the club at the end of the road. Back then, unlike today, people returned to The Magnum regularly, in the same way I attend a social club, visit my family or knock on my neighbours door. I can't stress enough, just how close everyone was. For a young man in his early twenties, like me, it was so different to what I was used to.

The Magnum gave most of us a sense of purpose in an unforgiving World. Many of those I knew had little or no contact with parents, rather like me. The society we lived in twenty five years ago was very different to that of today. Being gay was still a big deal. Parents seemed at least to be less accepting than those in 2019. The Magnum and its patrons became surrogates for the family many of us didn't have. Human nature dictates our desire for acceptance and this club nurtured that need.

From the downstairs brightly lit bar, playing popular hits of the time, the middle 'chill out' room, flowered wallpaper adorning the walls and the dark, sweat fueled upper dance floor, hardened clubbers oblivious to the World outside, The Magnum catered for all. There are many nights I can't remember, too 'wasted' to recall; equally there are other weekends, still vivid in my memories, pictures flooding back triggered from a recollection, flashback or name on the tip of my tongue. Male strippers, World Aids Day, DJ Mark Dukes, Brian Conley in the bar. A conversation with Danny Le Rue in the toilet, bumping into Sue Pollard in the foyer, all special moments, a part of me and the words I write, vivid, like watching TV!

The Magnum was a one off, never again to be repeated. The gay scene today is banal and sterile in comparison, without purpose or the guts to campaign on issues we still need to conclude. The history of me is rooted in the walls of a club, no longer there, a part of me lingers at the back of the dance floor, in the dark, under the DJ box in the sky and my future, still uncertain as it was in 1995, becomes my focus in middle age, whilst all the time remembering with passion a life lived hedonistically, decadently, unrestrained in a club that opened my mind!

One of the reasons for my return to the UK, is about building bridges. It is clear I will not be living in Britain forever; this is but a stopover while Darrell and I make our final decision, about where our future lies. It is important to grasp this opportunity to reconnect with friends without reservation; this includes engaging with people I haven't seen for many years; Dom is one of those people.

Darrell and I met Dom in 2003, whilst going through yet more testing times in our life. We had much in common and enjoyed the same lifestyle. It became a very close friendship, which ended up with us all living together for a period of time. This was a phase when our business in Salisbury closed, and we both needed somewhere to stay, since we lived above the premises itself; Dom kindly obliged. We remained close for five years, when we finally went our separate ways after a rather acrimonious fall out, something else that regularly happens in my life.

Whilst living in Spain, Dom and I re-established a friendship by the wonders of facebook, chatting often and reliving memories, from what was essentially a positive period in my life. On returning to the UK, I made it a priority to catch up with my old mate, as we did on Thursday. As I grow older I find friendships more important, not only messaging and chatting on social media, but also meeting those who were once an important part of my life, in the flesh. As human beings, one to one contact is important for our wellbeing and we should all make an effort to see our nearest and dearest as often as we can.

Dom really hasn't changed that much and is still the same person he was fifteen years ago, Like both of us, we are slightly older, far more aware of life and filled out in all the right places. Both of us spent a pleasant afternoon on the hottest day of the year, drinking a few pints of Stella at the Giddy Bridge in Southampton.

When you spend time in the company of old friends, it really is amazing what recollections come flooding back; occasions and events that I had thought I had forgotten, when actually it just needed someone like Dom to jog the old grey matter. I had a thoroughly wonderful time. ending up with a tour of Dom's new flat at the grade II listed Wyndham court, right in the heart of the city.

I intend to see many more people while I am here and am glad I can knock another person off my bucket list of friends to see and things to do while I am in Britain. I am sure I will see Dom again, I am only a train journey away after all. Next time he wants to come and see me in Portsmouth, where once again we can talk, remember and discuss just where our lives have taken us; a difficult road, full of twists and turns, which only now, as I approach my fifties becomes important to my future direction. We can only move forwards in life, if we can come to terms with the past and those who played a part in our story. It is necessary to learn from our mistakes but most importantly accept just how far we have come. Without the input of others, our lives would be all the poorer, Dom opened my eyes to new ideas and concepts, he is the wayward brother I never had !

On Thursday I made my way to Southampton again, I had to catch up with a few friends, still trying to fit everyone in before I leave the UK. I arrived early, so decided to pop in and see my old Deputy Manager Denise, from my days working at Oxfam.  The last time I saw her, was just before I left for Spain, so we had a lot to talk about. I have emailed her whilst living abroad but today was about chatting about the 'old days,' where we both are now and the future. Life throws up many challenges, many of which Denise and I lived through whilst working for Oxfam but friendship will always overcome adversity. We have much in common because of our past experiences; shared circumstances that will always connect us both together.

It is fantastic to see this lady doing well, after being treated so badly by the charity we both used to work for. I chose to move abroad to forget the past, Denise remained in Southampton, choosing to work for another, more reputable charity and by all accounts is happy and thankful to be where she is today!

The pain I experience everyday from my time working at Oxfam will not go away easily, if at all. I have learnt to live with it, as much as Denise has, but bad memories will never disappear they will just get easier to deal with. I suppose you could call Denise a battler, who works hard to make ends meet. Like all of us who lived through the difficulties Oxfam perpetuated, we all have to get on with living, we can not let these people do any more damage than they already have.

Denise still see's volunteers who worked with us from time to time; Southampton is a small place and faces will always pop up. I think it's probably fare to say, they are all doing remarkably well. It's good to hear that everyone I worked with all those years ago are still upbeat and chipper, as volunteers usually are. They are a unique breed, those who give up their time free and gratis; it is only a shame they were not recognised for their contribution to the sector they embraced.

It is always good to catch up on the local gossip over a cuppa, something I have wanted to do with Denise for so long. Nothing much changes in Southampton, but it is important to reflect over the past, after all I lived in this place for nearly 25 years. Denise like me is hopeful for the future; life will undoubtedly take each of us down many different paths, but at least we will continue to share a bond, that will endure the test of time; that's what friendship is all about!