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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 have to be made. Illness, family bonds and a Change of heart all make for challenging times in a life of a 'Roaming Brit!'

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Year In Review 2020!

28/12/2020

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To be honest, I was in two minds, whether to even write a review this year, but, this has been a particularly important milestone in my life, so it is necessary to include it. Generally one could sum up 2020 in one word 'COVID,' the one thing that has dominated all our lives and the one thing that just keeps on giving. This has been a memorable year for sure, but for all the wrong reasons and this isn't a period I want to repeat in the future. 2020 has been like a large dark cloud hovering over my head for nearly twelve months, rather like periods of depression I have suffered in the past, and it is a reminder of everything I have lost, in fact everything we have all lost. This was the year none of us want to remember and a time we all want to forget!

The last time I saw Darrell was in November 2019, when he returned home to be with his Mother, after a short stay in the UK. By January 2020, we were planning our next trip to see one another in Japan and Thailand. In February our flights were booked, itinerary finalised, and we were ready for our next holiday in Asia. At the beginning of the year, COVID-19 was a problem on the other side of the World and by the time we were due to meet, it would have disappeared. Little could I have known then, just what position I would be in today. I was optimistic about the future all those months ago and looking forward to seeing my husband once again, however dreams can shatter as quickly as they appear and circumstances destroy 'best laid plans of mice and men.'

This first quarter of the year was a far cry from the World we live in today. Things were relatively normal and like Darrell, I was in good spirits. This was short-lived; the pandemic took hold in Europe and then Britain; the tide began to change. As a country, we kept our boarders open, while Darrell's home country of Australia closed theirs. Death rates began to rise dramatically, and I felt myself falling into a situation I couldn't resolve. By the time of the first lockdown, I was feeling worn out and tired, as new social distancing measures were brought in. My working life changed markedly and the air was thick with anxiety, as all of us fought our own battles to overcome the 'new normal' we were all living through.

At the end of March, I suddenly lost my sense of taste and smell, along with several other colleagues. At the time this wasn't a recognised symptom of Coronavirus and although I knew there was something up, I carried on, very much in the same vein as I had before. Always obsessive, like I am today, I sanitized my hands every few minutes and kept as wider distance from others as I could. This virus was scaring the hell out of me; the more days that passed, the more we found out about this infection and the more apprehensive I became. Daily press conferences, twenty-four hour rolling news and scenes of sheer panic in hospitals, reinforced the nations respect for the National Health Service, as we clapped for carers every Thursday night. These were strange, unnerving and daunting days.

At the beginning of April, as I awoke one morning, after a sleepless night, I felt my temperature rising and my breathing more laboured. I immediately phoned 111 and described my symptoms. They were not classic COVID symptoms as we know them today, but they were enough for me to have to self-isolate for a week. After just a few days I felt well and able to return to work after my stretch of quarantine. People ask me today, if they think I had the virus, to which I reply 'yes, I think so.' You have to remember there were no tests available at the time and a loss of taste and smell wasn't recognised as a symptom like it is today. If I had to hazard a guess as to my condition, I would say it was virus related, but I am cautious. As someone who has many of the 'red flags' for a far worse reaction to COVID, I would have expected a more severe manifestation; that makes me unsure as to the reasons behind my anosmia; only time will tell.

I spent the summer walking across the city of Portsmouth; with time on my hands I was able to explore this great naval city I now call home. I decided to cut my hours at work and only go in when absolutely required to do so, protecting myself at every juncture. This allowed me time to myself and although I felt terribly lonely on occasion, I was grateful for the chance to do things I wouldn't normally have done. The three-month national lockdown improved my level of fitness, but left my mental state in tatters. Isolated, with very little human contact, I did my best to get through the difficulties, as I still do today.

The rest of the year, after lockdown has been much the same - in and out of quarantine, pubs reopening and closing, stopping and starting work, 'Eat Out To Help Out,' (which probably made the virus worse) and mistake after mistake from the powers that be. I have really lost all sense of reality over the last few months, unable to understand just what rules we have to follow, how many people we can have in our 'bubble,' or what all the different tier restrictions mean. After, what I can only describe as the 'continuing Government fiasco,' I have learnt to do what I think is best and always follow my own instincts. I have started to ignore the official wishy-washy approach to this virus and do all I can to look after number one. I always wear a mask, clean my hands and keep a two-meter distance from everyone else.

On the plus side, I have been able to meet my friend Ramona over the last three months, and we had begun to rekindle our thirty-year friendship. That was at least until we headed into a new lockdown of sorts and entered the new Tier 4. Equally, Darrell and I are speaking more than ever and are beginning to plan for the future, looking towards a brighter 2021.

As we approach the New Year, the UK has started to vaccinate us against this modern day plague, after the Pfizer vaccine was approved for use. It looks as though the Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine will also be rubber-stamped within days and the mass inoculation programme will pick up pace. Like most people I am hoping to be immunized against COVID-19 sometime next year. However, until then, there will likely be more disruption, as like me today, people are asked to self-isolate from the outside World, if they come in contact with a COVID positive person, and Britain moves from curtailment to emancipation in equal measure.

There will be no travelling for me next year, rather like 2020. I want to be sure I am fit enough to fly, but I am looking forward to a time, when I can get on a plane again and travel back to the Asian continent, a region I adore. Until that is possible, Darrell will hopefully fly home next year, and we can both begin the long hard slog back to normal, away from the threat of the virus. Cohabiting together once more after this strange pause in all our lives has been restarted, our partnership will return to convention and all of this will be but a distant memory. 2021, the year of the vaccine will mark the beginning of the end of COVID-19 and a climax to this dystopian World all of us now inhabit.

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Barcelona - The Beginning of a Love Affair!

9/8/2020

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Barcelona was my first real experience of mainland Spain and it was a place I thoroughly enjoyed, but not somewhere I have returned to as yet. Darrell and I used to travel frequently, all over the World, and would often jet off spontaneously at the drop of a hat. Barcelona was one of those unprompted trips that was truly magical in every sense of the word; having never been to there before, I really didn't know what to expect. I had seen photographs of this great city, and knew how characterful and beautiful it was, but experiencing it first hand, was beyond compare.

The first thing that struck me about this city was the architecture. I will never forget walking around the wide open boulevards, admiring the ornate buildings and rhetorical Catalonian construction throughout this great city. One of the most famous buildings is of course the  Segrada Famillia, a structure all of us are aware of, no matter where we come from. The unfinished cathedral in the district of Barcelona itself, was born in 1882. Designed by Antoni Gaudi, the site is still under development today, but it remains a magnificent epitaph to gothic architecture; a living piece of art, constantly changing and evolving; workmanship unsurpassed.

Gaudi design can be seen throughout the city, from the Casa Batlló and Casa Milà to the Park Güell and El Capricho. Each building is unique and truly galvanising. I was amazed by the richly decorated facades, colourful expression and organic modernist style. My passion for building design and construction was really born in Barcelona. Observing what can be achieved with an open mind and visionary outlook, was really a game changer for me. I have always been unconventional in many aspects of life, which is probably why Gaudi appealed to my sense of imagination and I have tried to apply his principles of individuality and social excellence to my own life. I am a champion of brutalist architecture, but also an admirer of art deco and neoclassical building techniques, however Antoni Gaudi remains my aspirational architect of choice and a reason to return to Barcelona in the future.

Walking along La Rambla, not far from our hotel, was unforgettable. This tree lined pedestrian  thoroughfare is Barcelona's meandering jewel, filled with café's, small shops selling local handicrafts, souvenirs and a miscellany of oddities and paraphernalia, as well as individual boutiques, restaurants  and of course musicians and street artists serenading your walk along this well trodden bulevar. I felt relaxed and at home, taking my time, slowly strolling along, appreciating my surroundings, absorbing the atmosphere and relishing the European lifestyle, I so admire, in stark contrast to the cold, rainy British way of life I had left behind. The sites, sounds, smell of flowers and traditional Spanish food, courting couples arm in arm and 'beautiful people' taking coffee or glass of Rioja on one of the terraces was a lifestyle I was immediately drawn to. My trip to Barcelona was turning into a life-changing experience and was the beginning of a love affair that eventually led to our new life in Spain, ten years later.

Walking along the Rambla del Mar at Port Vell, gazing across icy blue water, we sat for a glass or two of wine. The sun was dancing off the side of pristine, glistening yachts, gently rocking in the harbour, children were playing along the pier and tourists were happily betokening points of interest. I was happy to sit and watch the World pass by, chatting with Darrell, dreaming of a new life on the continent. My short holiday in Barcelona opened doors to a future untried and untested, this was the start of a love affair that remains as strong today as it ever was, drawing me ever southwards, as I once again look to a new life in the sun!


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New York - My First and Last!

26/7/2020

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New York was the only place in America I'd ever wanted to go to. This is a city that has captivated my imagination for many years and when I was given the opportunity to travel there in 2002, I jumped at the chance. This was only a short time after the Twin Towers had been unceremoniously brought down by a terrorist attack in 2001, and I was apprehensive about travelling, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. Darrell had already decided he didn't want to go, the United States had never appealed to him, and he suggested I take a friend with me instead. I paid for a young girlfriend from Whiteparish, the local village, where we lived, to fly with me for the week-long holiday, the first I had been on, without my husband!

Arriving at JFK Airport, we were a World away from the UK. The security measures in place were exceptional, taking two hours to finally see us through customs and into the unseasonably hot spring weather outside. There was no limousine waiting for us at the terminal, just a yellow cab and a bumpy ride to our hotel overlooking Central Park. Sitting in the back, we were cramped and hot, separated from the driver by a perspex screen. The leg room was tight; I tried to get comfortable for the long ride through Queens and Brooklyn, desperate to arrive in Manhattan as soon as we could. As we approached the Queensboro Bridge over the East River, I was feeling irritated and anxious. There was no air-conditioning in the car and after fighting furiously with the electric window, no fresh air either. I was however amazed by this great bridge, so typically New York in style, towering above the car as we slowly drove through the pulsating traffic, gridlocked in every direction. This may well have been the journey from hell, but it is a memory that has stayed with me. Sometimes the most enduring recollections aren't always the best!

Our hotel on West 71st Street, small and rather intimate, comfortable and homely, was the ideal base for the next seven days. American breakfast was served each morning, which mainly consisted of muffins and pancakes, washed down with gallons of coffee; the best start for the day ahead. Walking through the streets of Manhattan, we explored Times Square, taking in the breathtaking views from The Empire State Building and ate lunch at Trump Tower, sat outside watching people pass by. I remember casually lighting a cigarette after a light lunch; the gasps from other customers was almost deafening. This was clearly a practice frowned upon and I quickly stubbed it out, looking highly embarrassed, as I sunk back into my dining chair. Eloise, my companion looked on, rather amused, giggling to herself - we are certainly not in Whiteparish any more. Check paid we left hurriedly, towards Madam Tussauds.

Central Park was an escape from the busy city outside and as the temperature soared, we spent far more time walking around this magnificent green space than anticipated. Sat on a bench, looking out towards cyclists, dog walkers, joggers, lunchtime book readers and children playing Frisbee, tennis and handball, I was reminded of my own childhood. Central Park brought people together, in a way a concrete city just can't; surrounded by buildings on all sides, this open landscape is the crowning glory of Manhattan. It was unusual and alien in every respect, but a special place, full of beauty and poignancy for New Yorkers and tourists alike.

Sheltering from the midday sun, collecting my thoughts, I wrote a few words on some paper, that I still have today - ' New York is everything I expected, but Central Park is more; the city dweller has finally turned into a country boy!' Of course, I love this great city, but I preferred the clean air, open fields and tree lined walk ways. As I wrestled with my conscience in the years ahead, sadly urban life won the day. If I could live my life again, this would be one road I would change!

I was sad to leave 'The Big Apple,' I enjoyed every aspect of my time there. From the corned beef and gravy at the Deli, the art deco architecture and twenty-four hour nightlife, I was in awe of it all. It isn't a place I particularly want to visit again however, content with my time spent there, but looking forward to the idyllic Wiltshire countryside and the place I called home. As our Lincoln town car arrived to take us to JFK (I had learned my lesson concerning New York cabs.) and I climbed into the back, sinking my feet into the plush red carpet, I suddenly felt tired and ready for home. This was an amazing place to visit, but it just wasn't a city to stay for long. New York was my first dip into America and likely to be my last. Since Donald Trump has become President, my views of Americans have become less than favourable. With so much more of the World to see, the United States is no longer my destination of choice. New Yorks enduring pull is also its inevitable downfall, there is only so much hustle and bustle one man can take!


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Bosnia Herzegovina - The Majesty of Mostar!

9/7/2020

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Visiting Bosnia in 2014, was the highlight of my stay in the more recognised state of Croatia. This relatively new country was formed in 1992, after the Bosnian public voted to break away from the old Yugoslavia, shortly after the Communist eastern block nations began to crumble. Between 1992 and 1995, war raged in the region following the vote for independence. Bosnian Serbs supported by the new Serbian Government and the Yugoslav Peoples Army fought to secure the country. This was a war that split families, saw the death of thousands through ethnic cleansing and perpetuated the shelling of towns and cities. As we drove along the Dalmatian coast towards the Bosnian boarder, I felt apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, after all this was a country still recovering from conflict; conjecture ran riot inside, as we entered this undiscovered land.

Mostar was our destination, the fifth largest city in the country, named after the 'Mostari' or bridge keepers, who guarded the world-famous 'Stari Most,' or old bridge, over the river Neretva. This 16th century bridge was our destination, one of the most important landmarks in Bosnia. It is a physical crossing between the Islamic and Christian halves of the city. This is a place where East literally meets west.

I was struck by the wounds that still litter this city. Standing outside the Gimnazija Mostar, looking around the vast open space before me, I was overwhelmed by the number of ruined, derelict buildings, left as a reminder of the Bosnian War. Much of the destruction had been replaced by new, modern structures, well-kept and looked after, but there were however mnemoric reminders of a traumatic past. Badly bombed tectonic shells, daubed with bullet holes, shrapnel damaged and adorned with gaping holes. It was a rather eerie scene, that constantly reminded one of this great cities recent past, a memorial to a time before the conflict. I'm not sure whether these were left as a permanent aide-mémoire or just left untouched, undeveloped from twenty years prior, but it certainly brought home the nature of Mostar and the history that still lived on  in the architecture that protrudes around every street corner!

Walking through the Islamic sector of the city, you could be forgiven for thinking you are in Marrakesh or Algiers. We passed through a number of small souks, as we walked around the historic cobbled streets. Beautifully made handicrafts, herbs and spices punctuating the air, Arabic jewellery, ceramics and carved wooden mementos. This is how I imagined the Islamic World to be, and I wasn't disappointed.

We sat in a small traditional Turkish kahve dükkanı and had some thick home ground coffee. As I looked out across the narrow street towards the market stalls beyond, absorbing the atmosphere, sights, sounds and smells of the emporium, I noticed the locals, traditionally attired in Islamic dress, young children playing happily with friends and the odd tourist bartering with a stallholder; all this in complete contrast to the war that left its mark on Mostar. After a spot of shopping and some photographs on the bridge we headed towards the Christian side of the city; the feel was distinctly European. Islamic treasures were replaced with more familiar western postcards, religious icons and cafés selling alcohol. Once again we stopped, this time for a much-needed ice-cold beer and a glass or two of wine, followed by an evening meal in a restaurant tucked neatly away behind a tree covered court yard, a welcome break from the searing Balkan heat.

Mostar is a beautiful city, despite being disfigured by war. I felt relaxed and safe walking around its streets and have many fond memories, spending time with family, surrounded by hundreds of years of history. This Balkan gem unfamiliar to most, will most certainly be a tourist destination of the future. The breathtaking views were a reminder of my travels in Italy and like Sorrento and the Amalfi coast, I fell in love with Mostar and the life it encapsulates. Despite my British credentials, I will always be a European at heart; the freedom to travel unhindered at will, is important to my sense of well-being. Visiting Bosnia, even briefly, was a life-changing moment and one I hope to repeat; seeing more of this magical, inspirational, historic region deep in the heart of Europe, as it comes of age, is a journey for another day!




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Croatia (Hrvatska) - A little piece of family life on the Adriatic sea!

2/7/2020

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Croatia has been a home from home, for Darrell and I for many years now, since our first trip to Pula in 2006. Darrell's family originate from the Dalmatian coast and many of his relatives still live in this beautiful part of the World. In 2008, we made our first trip, to visit his Great Aunt and Cousins in Podgora, his home town, and neither of us were disappointed. Darrell had told me much about his relations and the picturesque village where they came from, but nothing prepared me for stunning countryside, views across the clear blue Adriatic and welcoming nature of people, we had only just met. Of all the places I have visited over the years, my annual holidays with family in Hrvatska were by far the most relaxed and special. These were important times for Darrell also, as he finally got to know his Dalmatian descendants!

For the next five years, we spent time with Marin, Vlatka and Bartul in their apartment in Split, returning frequently, integrating perfectly and exploring this great city from wall to wall - the old town steeped in history, tiny narrow lanes, buildings huddled on each side, washing  hanging across cobbled streets. In awe of the medieval architecture, a powerful statement of this cities culture and past, Diocletian's palace, built in the fourth century AD and the small family owned restorani in every square, I felt a connection with this place through my love of history, European culture and Croatian cuisine. Family aside, Split had everything I wanted from a holiday destination - antiquity, Mediterranean lifestyle, urban excitement, art galleries and museums and access to clean, well-kept beaches. This is somewhere I would return to time after time, year after year; this was a little piece of family life on the Adriatic Sea!

Marin and Vlatka's life and work took them away from their roots in Dalmatia to the large city of Split, but that didn't mean a break from family traditions further down the coast. Every year, during our visit we would drive along the rugged coastline, through tiny Hrvatski sela, (Croatian villages) past the larger settlement of Markaska, where Marin's family had a home and finally into Podgora. This is where the large family home is situated. The traditional imposing four/five-story building sits at the far end of the village, overlooking fishing boats in the harbour and is partly rented out to eager foreign tourists during the lucrative summer season.

Walking along the promenade between the ancestral home and the Medora Beach Resort you are struck by the phenomenal scenery, white sandy beaches and towering green lush mountains behind. This is where the old town of Podgora is perched, along with the original family home that has been restored to its former glory, after an earthquake destroyed it decades before. The story goes, that when the Earthquake struck, the Communist Government at the time, decided to rebuild the town at the bottom of the mountain on the coast, reconstructing it in traditional style, as beautiful as it ever was. All the residents were then relocated, settling into their new homes, away from the treacherous mountain pass!

This is a location with a resonance that echoes through my husbands heart, a destination that he and I both adore, and a big part of our life. Everywhere you look, you can see his family name emblazoned across the entrances to shops or restaurants,  and the character of those who live there is reflected in his personality and mannerisms. This is very much home to Darrell, and he feels at peace and happy in the company of loved ones, who are important to understanding his heritage and links to Europe.

The food, laid back perpetuation, family links and dynamic outlook are a perfect recipe for an unforgettable vacation, which is exactly what we experienced every time we went. After our move to Spain, we were unable to travel to Croatia and with the World in lockdown and Darrell's Mother unwell, it is unlikely we will journey there any time soon, but the current situation does not detract from the fondness and love we both have for this important part of the World. I will often look at photographs taken over the years; family times spent together in a country both of us call home; memories of better, happier times. Darrell and I will always be travellers at heart, but there are very few places we will ever return to again and again; Hrvatska, however is the beating heart at the centre of family life!



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France - A Place To Call Our Own!

29/6/2020

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I have always had a rather strange relationship with France; like many British people, I had a view of its people that wasn't entirely favourable. Of course, as individuals we all form stereotypical perspectives of cultures we don't understand; that has always been a British failing. As our nearest continental neighbour, France was my first experience of foreign travel, a place I visited frequently and a country I like to think I know well. In the late 1980s, along with my classmates, I travelled to the French city of Arras, our base for a week, while we toured the First World War battlefields. This was the beginning of a love/hate relationship that still lasts today. France is like Britain in so many ways, but its customs and traditions seem a world away from our own, making it a strange, alluring and intriguing place to visit.

Between 2000 and 2004, Darrell and I lived in the beautiful village of Whiteparish, on the Hampshire/Wiltshire boarder, running a business twenty-four hours a day. Initially this was a particularly productive time for us, and we were able to do many things we hadn't done before. Despite the long hours, we managed to find the time to travel to France once a month, driving from our home in Salisbury, to Southampton or Portsmouth, crossing by ferry to Caen and other regional ports, stocking up on cigarettes and alcohol, as many Brits did back then. Both Darrell and I were heavy smokers and paying just £1 for a packet of twenty cigarettes was the draw both of us needed to continue making the journey to France each month. It wasn't too long, before both of us fell in love with this Country and started to make plans for our future.

During our time traversing Northern France, we managed to investigate the local property market, discovering just how cheap it was to buy a home there and when the time was right, we bought a house direct from Hamiltons international Estate Agency, in the UK. During the early 2000s, foreign property was selling to British buyers fast and with our business taking priority, we decided to bite the bullet and buy a small country cottage without viewing it. Not something I would advise anyone else does, but these were different times, and we were determined to jump on the European property ladder, before prices rose too high.

Le Coix, as the house was called, was situated in the beautiful, historic village of Le Lande St Simeon, near Fleurs in Swiss Normandy. This small stone structure was an empty shell, split in two, one half still used to keep animals and the other half for human habitation, although unused for many years.  Visiting our new French Petite Maison, I was struck by the sublime, charming countryside that surrounded the small hamlet  where our new house sat, detached, unfettered in half an acre of land. As the name 'Swiss Normandy' suggests, this was a region that looked and felt very much like Switzerland, the views were breathtaking and the feel distinctly relaxed and laid back. As we drove down the narrow country lanes into the village, I immediately felt de-stressed and nonchalant, breathing in the clean air, taking in the characterful surroundings, listening to the sound of silence.

Both Darrell and I had big plans for this tiny chalet and were determined to restore it to its former glory, but time constraints and life took us in a very different direction. We no longer had the willpower or determination to finish the project and with the business taking more and more time, we left the property in the same state we bought it. Within six years we had sold our French dream as our sights became fixated elsewhere.

Darrell and I have continued to travel to France when we are able - visiting Paris on a misty day in February, sat outside a chic café, overlooking the Eiffel Tower, drinking a cup of coffee and smoking a well-earned cigarette. The odd day here and there in Le Havre or taking my late Grandmother to Calais on Le Shuttle, was part of the course; so many times, we have travelled to our French neighbour, that it has almost become a part of our life together. The food, history, architecture and attitudes have always been a major incentive to return to this inspiring part of the World, again and again. Buying a property, also showed the negative aspects of French life - the red tape, corrupt officials and time-consuming stupidity that made our vision so much harder to achieve. However on the whole this is a welcoming place, that holds some special memories for us both; somewhere I will return to at any given opportunity.

France was my first glimpse across the water, it was the appetizer that introduced me to the wider main course, spread across continents, oceans and time zones. My interest in travel stems from that first trip to Belgium and France, observing how differently our European cousins lived and just how necessary it is to have a broader sense of the wider World. My links to France through family and heritage, will always ensure a fondness that goes beyond my personal views and opinions. The door to Europe has become a catalyst for the journey I am on today, a small piece of familiarity in an ever shrinking globe!




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Kuala Lumpur, City of Contrasts!

22/6/2020

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Darrell and I have been to Kuala Lumpur twice over the 24 years we have been together, firstly in 1997 and a second time in 2001. The difference between each visit couldn't have been more stark. In 1997, I was heading towards a new life in Australia with Darrell, and Malaysia was the ideal stop over on the way to Perth. I really had no idea what to expect when I arrived at the old KL Airport in the capital, but as this was my first foray into Asia, I was expecting some interesting sites and I wasn't disappointed.

Kuala Lumpur is the capital of Malaysia, a metropolis rather like London, or any other large urban conurbation. In 1997 this emerging city was still in its infancy, growing precipitately, spreading outwards and upwards; construction was evident everywhere you looked. It had a rather gritty feel, infrastructure was old and antiquated, drains were left open and the smell was often stomach churning. There were very few pavements to walk on safely, and what footpaths existed were poorly constructed, uneven and hazardous; it was actually safer to walk on the roads.

Looking around the city, whilst navigating the streets one was struck by the amount of building work taking place. Tall cranes littered the tropical skyline; from our hotel room at the Ming Court Hotel, I could see at least six within eye shot. I remember thinking to myself at the time, that this was going to be a city to rival Singapore or Hong Kong, and I was delighted to be visiting at the beginning of its journey towards maturity. At times, it did feel like I was staying in a third World country, but then that is what it was. Malaysia's capital was about to come of age and it was apparent in every direction!

Kuala Lumpur, rather like the rest of the region is culturally diverse, the demographic was like nothing I had experienced before, consisting of Malay's, Chinese and Indians. I felt like I was in a melting pot of different customs and traditions, religions and heritage. The distinctiveness was particularly evident in the capital, but rather like central London, this multicultural mix seemed to work well. The eclectic nature of this vibrant and dynamic city was truly electric and made for one of the most memorable experiences of my life, which is probably why I returned again in 2001.

By 2001 Darrell and I had settled in the UK, taking the opportunity to fly once again to our favourite Asian destination. We arrived at a large modern airport, unlike the older terminal we navigated in 1997. There were travellers as far as the eye could see, indicating a change in the trajectory followed by this country. Kuala Lumpur was a city that had metamorphosed, transformed for future generations to enjoy, confident and content with its new outlook, a shining jewel in the orient to rival any of the other metropolitan districts in the region. I was amazed by the change, something I had predicted four years prior.

The underground, monorail and rapid transit system was by now complete and fully integrated into the architecture of Kuala Lumpur. New shopping centres, apartment buildings, highways and skyscrapers were scattered across the city. The Petronas Towers was fully operational, welcoming tourists from all corners of the World. The glass walk way linking the two monumental monoliths delivered amazing views across the skyline, and down below landscaped gardens, fountains and pools offered an escape from the intense searing heat. This was a region that had grown out of all proportion and was now a burgeoning destination of choice.

I visited Kuala Lumpur briefly in 2019, stopping over after a flight from Cambodia. By now the airport was unrecognisable; twenty years of change and rebirth had turned this once tiny outpost in the far east, into a modern mega city, an asphalt jungle at the edge of rain forest, lush tropical scenery and extraordinary wildlife. I have been lucky enough to see just how much this once old colonial city with small imperial traditional buildings, nestled between contemporary modern glass superstructures, has evolved and advanced over time. In many ways I preferred the old fabric of the place, but modernity often overtakes convention in a race for change. This is a city I could quite happily settle in, living a life Darrell and I first dreamed of in 1997. In a future so uncertain today, this may well be our 'tomorrow' home on a bucket list of many; Kuala Lumpur is most certainly our Asian abode for now!



Kuala Lumpur 1997

Kuala Lumpur 2001

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Italy: Awe-Inspiring and Beautiful, a special place in my heart!

18/6/2020

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Travel remains the most important part of mine and Darrell's life. Despite our continued separation on different sides of the World, unable to leave our respective countries, because of the continued travel restrictions, we still have a passion for foreign climes that is unmatched. Up until recently I always looked forward to taking an annual holiday or two, visiting family in Croatia or meeting Darrell in Asia, while we both spent time with our nearest and dearest in different countries. This period is doubly isolating for both Darrell and I, because we are literally parted by circumstances beyond our control and at the first opportunity, we will be flying again, in order to pick up where we left off!

Today I want to write about one of our favourite countries, a place we have visited four times and somewhere that holds a special place in my heart - Italy was my first love and will always be a country I return to when I can. The memories I have from time spent in this stunningly beautiful part of the Word, is at the forefront of my mind today, as I look through hundreds of photographs while on lockdown in the UK.

Our first taste of Italy, in 2001 was a spontaneous break in Sorrento. During this period Darrell and I were running our own business, so getting away was difficult. We were lucky enough to get cover for a week and jetted off to Naples in the month of March.

From the moment I arrived in Sorrento, I was captured by its elegance, falling in love with this magical region of Italy. Our typically Italian hotel sat at the top of a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, like so many others. The scenery was monumental and at times overwhelming. On one side jagged, rugged rock formations, waves lapping the spectacular shore line and on the other, lemon and orange groves, olive trees and sunkist mountains. I remember, sat on a wooden bench, just outside the hotel, looking across the ocean towards the Isle of Capri. The hot sun dancing off the waves, lighting a channel towards the horizon. I had never felt so relaxed in my life.

During our time in Sorrento, Rome and Venice, the biggest draw for me was the culture and history that make up the country of Italy. A short train ride from Sorrento, sat the most famous volcano in the World, and at its base the ancient city of Pompeii. Trying to climb this famous mount was an expedition too far for me, managing to get half-way up, before turning around heading towards the bottom once again. Pompeii was an altogether easier task; walking through Roman streets, surrounded by two thousand year old buildings - Bakeries, brothels, civic and grand houses, narrow cobbled streets bearing the scars of the numerous chariots that would have driven along their length. I was in ore of the graffiti that decorated outside walls, documenting an election taking place at the time of the eruption, bodies of victims perfectly preserved in plaster and frescos adorning the inside rooms of noble stately chambers. This was an amazing place, that I have visited twice over the years, and somewhere I would dearly love to go again.

Rome was equally tantalizing and breathtaking. The resplendent colosseum, formidable in nature, its historical relevance and imposing character unsurpassed. The forum, southern European architecture, The Pantheon, with its concrete Roman dome and preturnatural interior, richly embellished, situated discretely in the classical centre of the city. Each destination a reminder of our human roots and the beginning of a journey that would take Darrell and I the Vatican, situated in the heart of Rome itself. 

The stupendous St Peters Basilica was awe-inspiring, bringing religion to life in the spiritual home of the Catholic Church. As someone who isn't particularly religious, even I was taken aback by the sheer size of the structure. As I walked into the Basilica with Darrell, I was overcome with emotion, feeling quite teary at one stage. The candles' illuminating the entrance to this sublime house of God, the faint smell of incense wafting through the echoey concourse and a statue of St Peter, where tourists and pilgrims alike had rubbed away the bronze on his foot, promoting good luck to everyone who passed by, was a reminder of the importance of this composition. Feeling speechless, enraptured, carried away in the moment, I was helped outside by an engaging Priest, who wished me well on my holiday. Looking back towards the facade of the basilica I remember thinking how disciples of the past must have felt as they entered the inner sanctum, a monument to man's achievement, refinement and artistic talents.

Italian food, cooked beautifully is small family run ristoranti on the Piazza Tasso, views over the Spanish Steps and Trevi Fountain and washing strung between houses in narrow Roman backstreets. Urban life, so different to home, was vibrant and spirited, the sound of motor scooters in the morning zipping past our hotel bedroom, local market traders selling freshly caught fish and artists painting in local squares outside tiny churches hidden down dark dimly lit vicoli; all part of an atmosphere that still lingers on my senses, just like it was yesterday. Recollections that make Italy the most alluring, charming and prepossessing destination I have ever been to.


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Remembering our trip to Asia in 2019!

12/6/2020

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Instead of travelling to Japan and Thailand as planned this year, I have spent nearly two weeks in near lockdown at home. Remembering my time in Asia in 2019 and preparing for our eventual trip back to the region, hopefully in 2021, although I wouldn't hold your breath, has been the perfect tonic to cheer me up and give me something to look forward to. I have been scrolling through videos online, viewing travel documentaries and working out a new plan of action. Above is a video from 'Suitcase Monkey,' a travel vlogger, whose videos caught my attention on youtube. If you are thinking of flying to Asia in the future, look out for these wonderfully comprehensive alternative travel guides; they have certainly kept me entertained during the past few days.

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My time in Vietnam, Hong Kong, South Korea and Cambodia last year, was the holiday of a lifetime, that I will never forget.  Starting off in Communist Vietnam, not a place I would have visited normally, I was taken aback by this wondrous country and hospitable people. Our time here was made more memorable, because of the generous nature of all those who looked after us, during the few short days we were there and of course the culture that delighted us so much.

Despite its Communist credentials, tradition and religion sit happily side by side. We visited various Buddhist temples, which were well looked after and preserved for future generations to enjoy and experience. There were also many western influences in this breathtaking part of the World, as one would expect. There were Americans who had settled after the Vietnam War, as well as many other nationalities, who are welcomed by this particularly progressive Vietnamese regime.

I felt relaxed and safe in Hanoi, unlike many large cities I have visited over the years. Navigating the streets was relatively easy in the centre and everything we wanted to see was within walking distance. The architecture was utilitarian in part but traditional Asian influences were everywhere. This is most definitely a destination I want to visit again; spending time exploring and travelling to other more remote areas would be something to aspire to on any future vacation. Our short taster trip opened many doors to this fascinating place, and I was left wanting more!


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Hong Kong was very different to anywhere I have ever been. The small ex British colony on the tip of China is somewhere I have wanted to go for a long time. I had high expectations of this city and in many respects I wasn't disappointed.

The towering skyscrapers, growing taller around every corner, were majestic in nature. I had never seen buildings so tall and I don't mind telling you, just how much it pulled at my anxiety. The urban street life was absolutely out of the World and I have never been so in awe of a place in my life.

However, this isn't somewhere I want to visit again. I have been to many Asian cities in my life and this was really much the same as any other. There was a rather gritty feel to its nature nevertheless; staying in Kowloon, allowed us to get down and dirty, experiencing the way real residents live. This was the part of Hong Kong where people lived, in small, tiny apartments, surrounded by blocks and blocks of flats and that made the stay special.

Hong Kong has sparked my interest in visiting China. The people we met in the bars around our hotel, were approachable and full of stories, about this busy metropolis in the South China Sea and their friendliness and warmth made our stay memorable.  The character of all cities are only as good as the personalities who live there and real, down to Earth folk make for a better stay. If I was returning to Hong Kong in the future, I would most certainly stay in Kowloon again.


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South Korea was a Country I fell completely in love with. From the moment we arrived in Seoul, I was bowled over by its modernity and tradition coexisting together. The contrast between the two married in a perfect union could be seen flawlessly in the capital city. Modern superstructures towering above traditional Korean homes and villages; Perfectly manicured gardens, the gentle sound of water flowing over rocks, bird song in the branches of trees, shading commuters and tourists franticly running for a connecting train. The divergence of two cultures so distinct, yet so felicitous in their goals

The modern city of Seoul was beyond imagination. The clean, contemporary apartment we rented near the centre felt like a home from home and the inviting enthusiastic nature of the Koreans we met was infectious. Yes we looked lost at times, but without a second thought, we were approached by local residents who were all to willing to help us find our way around. These are people who are proud of their country and want tourists to have the best of experiences when they arrive. Like all parts of Asia the gracious nature of those who live and work in this continent of contrasts, is clear to see, an epitaph to their generosity of spirit and pragmatic outlook on life.

I will most certainly return to Seoul one day; in fact as I said to Darrell at the time of our visit, this would be a place I could quite easily live. With our future direction uncertain, this could well be on the list; what ever happens, I am glad we chose to spend the longest part of our journey in this vibrant location. The memories I have here, I will always hold dear!


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Our final destination was Siem Reap and Angkor Wat in Cambodia. This is another Country I had never thought of visiting before. I had seen programmes on the famous Angkor Wat before and wanted to visit it at some point, but it wasn't on my bucket list of places I really wanted to see, for the life of me, I don't know why; this last leg of our trip was spectacular.

From the hotel and restaurants, Pub Street and Angkor Wat, the lotus and crocodile farm and amazing culture, Cambodia did not disappoint.

As a 'good old days' buff, I was amazed  by the living history that surrounded me. Of course Angkor Wat was the most memorable site I visited during my stay, during the whole of the holiday, this place is a true wonder of the World, but there were many more poignant stops at religious shrines, Buddhist retreats and the more sombre killing fields. There is so much antiquity to admire, you literally don't know where to begin.

The streets of Siem Reap were rather like Vietnam, third World in complexion, but that just made the experience even more thrilling. Vendors selling spiders and snakes for unsuspecting tourists to eat, with a one dollar pint of beer and less than salubrious market stalls with a vibe unmatched anywhere else. There were people from all walks of life, from different corners of the Earth, mingling together enjoying the sights, tastes and smells of this unforgettable, remarkable, striking community on the edge of Asia. At times, it did feel rather lawless and bewildering, walking through the narrow ancient streets; I certainly kept my handbag close to my chest, but within a short space of time, I felt comfortable and composed, once again yearning to return at some point in the future!

Remembering the good times, will certainly get us through the bad and recalling a holiday last year, when I was able to see Darrell and spend quality time travelling through Asia was amazing. It isn't until you are unable to do the things you normally do, that you realise just how important they are. Travelling is a big part of mine and Darrell's life, so it is a double blow that we can no long see the one country we have always dreamed of, as well as one another of course. Until we see each other again, we do have the memories of very special time in both our lives!


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Relationship Part II

16/4/2015

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Australia 1995


Flying to Perth, Australia was an experience.  The flight itself was ok, long but ok! Flying British Airways was a bonus and for me, it was an expensive experience.  I had flown in the past, but never this long.  I remember when we landed at Perth International, the feeling of complete freedom on leaving the plane, into the strange new Country.  It immediately felt different.  The sounds and scenery were a joy, compared to the Urban sprawl of Southampton!

I had many expectations about Australia, having many preconceived views, thoughts and hopes that were at stake.  I knew very little about the place, least of all Perth.  I guess Perth is one of the least known City's in Australia, so in reality, I didn't know what to expect!

We literally arrived homeless.  The last  Darrell's friends and family knew, he was going out with a completely different person.  Someone who was and still is a great source of support.  I didn't know anyone, but was welcomed with open arms, by his friend Beth.  She took us both in at a crucial time for our relationship.  She picked us up from the Airport, and we drove to her home, though empty highways, stunning views and streets with hardly any people.  This was certainly different!

The road she lived on was literally just like the cul-de-sac in 'Neighbours'.  So different from The UK.  There was space, perfectly manicured gardens, all detached, just stunning.  The house was also large, no narrow corridors or  hall ways, just open and space.  I felt happy to be there!

During those first few weeks we made plans.  'mad plans' as I call them.  We planned to fake my death, in order for me to stay in the Country.  Best laid plans of mice and men and manic Queens!  It all seemed perfectly reasonable, of course.  No reason it wouldn't work, right?  I met many of Darrell's friends, most of whom were amazing people.  There were one or two who were typically Australian, arrogant and stand-offish, even telling me, I should leave and let Darrell live his life.  Not the most welcoming of people, but I just got on with it!

We decided to get our own flat.  I was on a short term Visa, but we were making long term plans.  I don't think at that stage we knew exactly the implications of staying together on an inappropriate visa and really were just hoping for the best, blocking it out or thinking positively.  Anyway we chose an apartment on Canning Highway, in Fremantle.  I loved Freo.  It was more colonial than Perth, situated on The Indian Ocean, friendly and in many respects quite British.  The flat was large and spacious, with lime green carpets throughout.  Not my choice, but I didn't really care, I was in love after all!  The kitchen was small and functional, built up on stilts.  I later found out this was to keep the cockroaches out of the cupboards.  Also, the place was infested with fleas, which we 'flea bombed' immediately.  We had an old TV and couch and crate for a table and very little else.

For me, a collector of everything, the minimalist look was horrifying.  However, it was our first home together and has a special place in both our hearts.  I also became quite ill there, probably the first time, I remember real pain.  A sign of things to come perhaps!

I had spent the year prior to our time in Australia involved in a fast, tiring, party lifestyle.  It had taken its toll.  I had severe neck and back pain and could barely move. My muscles had seized up, and I was taken to Fremantle Hospital, where I was prescribed medication for the pain.  Clearly a year of constant partying and abuse had taken its course!

I spent the next few weeks laid up in bed watching Australian TV, which was a cross between old British telly, American rubbish and Kerri-Anne  Kennerely.... I loved Kerri- Anne.  A posh Australian with a talk show.  Perfectly coiffured hair and that upper class ozzie accent I so loved.  I watched SBS, all the foreign programmes and interestingly a British programme called 'Band of Gold'.  Great fond memories at a difficult time!


We moved out of the apartment after about a month and moved in with a friend of Darrell's called Graham.  We lived in a suburb called Belmont in a modern Duplex unit; I loved living there.  Graham was also gay, and we were living with someone who I was at least very comfortable with.  We were broke, had no money but bloody happy.  In fact, I think we were at our happiest there.  I do remember getting ready to go out to Perth's Gay Club, The Court Hotel; apparently, Boy George went there once.  I had to use horse clippers to do my hair and was wearing hand me down clothes.  So different from the designer stuff I had back home.  I could not give a damn and remained happy until the end!

As time passed, I became more and more homesick.  God knows why!  The lifestyle I had left was calling me back day after day, and I was missing the people I thought were friends!

Then came the phone call.  That f*cking phone call from my ex partner.  I spoke to him on the phone, there was something wrong, then he came out with it.  He had been diagnosed with HIV, and I was responsible.  What a bombshell. What the f*ck was I supposed to do? Well I did what I had to do.  I rearranged my flight to leave Australia as soon as possible, without Darrell.  I felt empty, destroyed and scared, but I did the honourable thing.  

Even the flight home was an omen.  I got on the plane to leave Australia and whilst  on route to take off, one of the engines caught fire.  I couldn't believe what I was witnessing.  We were removed, and taken back through customs, having left and returned to Oz twice in a day.  A replacement was found and I left later that evening.  I didn't know if Darrell would follow, I didn't know what to expect, I was homeless and sh*tting a brick.  Our relationship could have so easily ended at that point. Thank god it didn't!
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