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    30th Anniversary Blogs - Bullied for Safeguarding Volunteers!

    Today's blog is about an important series of events that became the catalyst for my blog, 'Roaming Brit.' Ten years ago, in 2015, along with my husband Darrell, I was a victim of sustained bullying, from people who worked for one of the oldest charities in the World. This period was the most distressing and abusive time in our relationship together. Even today, I still suffer from the effects of a phase, that will forever remain a part of my psyche. I will always carry the burden of torment around with me. It was quite simply an interval, a glitch, that was responsible for a change in our circumstances, that we are still living through today, despite the memories finally fading into the background.

    Bullying is something you think only occurs in childhood, but when it happens in your mid-forties, you can't believe what is actually transpiring before your very eyes. Both Darrell and I, were working alongside one another as Managers, for a large NGO on the south coast of England. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed our positions, especially working with the volunteers who worked for us. I was always taught, from an early age, to look after and protect the most vulnerable people in society. As a Manager for a charity, it was part of my remit and something I was very aware of, every day I went to work.

    You can imagine my horror, when two of Darrell's paid employees, began targeting and abusing a particularly defenseless member of his volunteer team. He naturally asked me for advice. We were both in the same positions at work and as a Manager it is something we had to deal with on rare occasions. I suggested he report it as a safeguarding issue and the HR department would do the rest. I had no reason to expect anything different. Furthermore, I felt sure the organisation would do all it could to protect, the individual concerned — how wrong I was!

    Not only did the charity do nothing to support Darrell or the victim, but those responsible started bullying Darrell as a result. From attacks on personal property, to homophobic abuse and attacks at work, the abuse was relentless. Darrell became ill, withdrawn, and his mental health became a source of concern. As someone who had worked for the charity longer than him, I decided to do what I could to help.

    Despite doing my best to intervene, I was also dealing with a safeguarding issue at my own place of work, which was also being disregarded by my boss. Later, a former colleague also began to attack me personally, and it appeared on the surface, at least, that both of us were being singled out for protecting others.

    With no support from our mutual boss, within a short space of time, we both became ill. We were advised to stay away from work, for our own health and wellbeing. Our mental health was in tatters, as we sought answers as to why nothing was being done to protect us and others. I contacted helplines and organisations who could help. I spoke with my union, ASDAW and anti bullying charities, including 'Solent Mind' based in Southampton. All of them said the same thing, we were being targeted for safeguarding others and as they dug deeper, under the surface, our sexuality was also a factor as well. I can't describe the feeling you get, when you realise you are being mistreated, for just doing the right thing. It hits you head long, like a brick in the face.

    For a year we suffered, while still trying to find answers as to why we were being ignored. Despite returning to work for a brief period, in the end, just before our wedding in 2015, we both decided to pack up, sell up and leave the UK for good. Every professional organisation we talked to, said this was the right thing to do. The sociopathic nature of what we endured, would never stop until we made the decision to walk away, from the sinister nature of mistreatment we were dealing with. It took a while, but finally, after talking to family, friends and professionals, we left for a new life in Spain.

    My last day at the charity was tinged with sadness, leaving the volunteers behind. We had built up a great rapport over the years, and they were a big part of my life. The Head of HR came in, to try to draw a line under this sorry chapter, and we both spoke candidly about just what had happened. She agreed the way I was treated was a disgrace, but said there wasn't much the charity could do, since its reputation was at stake. Despite knowing just how malevolent and malicious those involved had been towards us and many others, (We weren't the first) there was very little she could do. The primary person responsible was a known bully and abuser, and she had done this many times before.

    ​Our new life in Spain was a breath of fresh air. We had a new, strong and altruistic network of friends and colleagues and an even bigger group of Expats, who helped us begin the transition from turmoil to tranquillity. We were both as happy as we could be and loving every day again on the beautiful Costa Blanca. Smiles returned to both our faces as we finally escaped the pain we left behind.

    Despite writing about my experiences as often as I could, answering emails and messages from readers who were also suffering from bullying, we both enjoyed a happy existence in Spain. I received many cries for help over the two years I was living in Gran Alacant, even from those who actually worked at the charity I once held in such high regard. These were the hardest messages to reply to, and I just gave them the advice that was given to me — Never try to beat a sociopath, you will always fail!

    Personal tragedy ended our time in Spain all too quickly. While sat surrounded by packing boxes in the lounge of our villa in Puerto Marino, I received an unexpected call. The Charity Commission was investigating the charity I had worked for and wanted to hear my side of the story. I was finally given an opportunity to give mine and Darrell's side of the events that brought us to Spain; it was a vindication of everything we had gone through — finally someone was listening to us. 

    I never found out the results of the enquiry. However, I finally realised that many others in the UK and further afield, had also suffered at the hands of people who had no place working with vulnerable people. I was made aware that changes would take place. Although nothing could be done to save mine and Darrell's careers, we were helping the commission compile evidence, against people who were distinctly corrupt and disturbing in nature, and for that they were truly grateful.

    Since then, I haven't thought about that terrible time in 2015 too much. I do have days when the pain resurfaces, and I do suffer with severe anxiety every day, but my life is so much better now than it ever has been. In a way, the success I enjoy ten years later, is all down to the bullies who gave us such a hard time. So I suppose I should finally take the opportunity to thank them, for affording us the life we enjoy in Australia. So thank you — I hope you are also enjoying the fruits of your labour as well.

    During the 30 years we have been together, neither of us have experienced blatant bullying and abuse. As I look back over our years together, it is painful to relive such painful experiences, but it was a time that made us stronger as a couple and more aware of the ugly nature of people. Not everyone in your life is good for you, and it really is up to you to kick them into the long grass and carry on living your best life. They were terribly soul-destroying months in 2015, but without them, we wouldn't be where we are today, and for that, fate gave us a second chance and a reason to exist again.
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    Death of Pope Francis - A lurch to the right?



    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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    Jack Whitehall at The Riverside Theatre!

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    Yesterday, we spent Sunday in Perth. I had booked tickets to see Jack Whitehall, at The Riverside Theatre. Currently, Jack, and his Mother and Father are on a World tour, and as part of this, they are in Perth on Monday and Tuesday of this week. Like most things in Australia, the price of these tickets weren't cheap, but I can tell you now, it was well worth it; this was definitely a must-see show!
    We arrived in the city at just after 2 pm — the sky was cloudy and temperatures were significantly lower than they had been. There was a cool breeze blowing across Elizabeth Quay, and it was a beautiful day, perfect for a walk around the city!

    We made our way to Murray street, where we had a few pints of Stella in The Belgian Beer Café and lunch at Durty Nelly's. This was just bog-standard food — nothing fancy, just something to fill a hole before the theatre. My biggest bug bear with Western Australia, has always been the lack of decent eating establishments, and it still annoys me, two years after arriving in Australia. Today I have just accepted that eating out will never be the experience it was in Europe, and put up with lower standards. A friend did tell me recently, that over in the Eastern States, there is a far better choice of World cuisine; it just feels like Perth is so far behind the rest of the World, and that does make me feel quite isolated at times.

    As we walked around the World's most isolated capital city, the streets were empty, almost like a ghost town. This is always a constant source of bemusement for me, that a major city in Australia is so empty and at times devoid of life, that you could be in a tiny village deep in the English countryside. We may well have a wonderful life here in Perth, but no matter how comfortable we are, it just doesn't have the culture and soul that Europe, Asia, or Britain have.

    When you make the transition and move to Australia, you just have to accept that things are very different. In truth, there are times I could have walked away and gone home, but I am glad I stayed; in nine years we will have paid off what's left of the mortgage we have, and can then decided where our future lies!
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    After a few hours wondering around Perth, we made our way to the Theatre, situated on Elizabeth Quay. The huge venue in the heart of the city was already filling with people, and we were an hour and a half early.

    To quote Michael Whitehall during the show, “nothing much happens in Perth!" Well he's right, nothing happens in this part of Australia at all, so when major stars turn up in the capital, it is a rather big event. Tickets sold out particularly quickly, so I was lucky to get seats at all. Thankfully, I was online just at the right time, and was able to get the best tickets I could.

    The show itself was hilarious. Jack Whitehall is an astounding comedian, who certainly made Darrell and I laugh from beginning to end. His distinctly British humour was just what we both needed, and for me at least it was an amazing reminder of home.

    Jacks Parents were also on stage, which made for a great few hours of entertainment. Some jokes may well have been too much for some audience members, certainly near the mark at times, but dark comedy, especially at a time of international turmoil, is a great tonic. I literally haven't laughed so much in many years.

    It's not often you leave an event or show smiling, smirking quietly to yourself, but this production just left me feeling happy, satisfied and, understandably, wanting more. When celebrities tour down under, they typically forget Western Australia, let alone put on two shows. This was a special occasion for us, close to Valentine's Day, but it was more than that, It was also a link to the past we had left behind. It allowed both of us to relax a little, after such a busy time in both our lives, unwinding after a full on few months of work. Memories were made on Monday, and that helps both of us, as we continue to adjust to our new life in Australia! With both of us feeling suitably refreshed, it's time to face another important week ahead, and a date with destiny at Midland Hospital on Friday...

    ...I'll keep you posted!

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    The Last Drop Elizabethan Pub!

    Both Darrell and I, are suitably stuffed after a huge Sunday lunch, at a place I have never been to before. A colleague at work recommended 'The Last Drop, Elizabethan Pub' in Befordale, here in Perth, and I wasn't disappointed!

    To be quite honest, I had no desire to go out this weekend, but after seeing the photographs of this truly unique venue, I was hooked, and decided we had to visit, and I wasn't disappointed.

    Situated in beautiful countryside, the building looked every inch British, as we drove up the drive to the car park. This large, imposing house almost stuck out like a sore thumb, in the hills around Armadale. However, with the sun shining, and temperatures in the 30s, the beer garden beckoned, and I was looking forward to a relaxing few hours away from Midland!
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    As I walked inside the pub, I was immediately transported back to the UK, and places I had visited over the years. From The New Forest, the village of Titchfield where I grew up, and my ancestral home of Whiteparish, the feeling of history was everywhere. The difference being, this was a mock Elizabethan/Tudor house in the middle of Western Australia; the location couldn't really be any different.

    There were beer mats attached to the beamed ceiling, a large open inglenook fireplace and antique furniture. This place felt like a home from home, and I instantly felt relaxed, sat in this atmospheric country pub.

    After Christmas, we both just wanted something light for lunch, so ordered a pizza each. Now, judging on previous experience, we believed it would be just enough to fill a hole. The portion sizes over here are a lot smaller than Britain; so you can imagine, my horror, when these two massive pizzas, stacked high with topping, were brought to the table. The portion sizes at The Elizabethan, are huge. They were so big, Darrell and I could only manage half a pizza each, and even then we were absolutely stuffed.

    I thanked the lovely waitress for the food, apologised for not eating it all, and politely refused a doggy bag. Neither Darrell nor I wanted to eat anymore; as magnificent as lunch was, it was just far too much food for us!

    Today was my perfect Sunday, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I haven't felt so connected to home, since arriving in Australia, as I did today. Apparently, there is a large Expat community living in Armadale, and this makes it particularly interesting for me. I do meet a lot of Brits in my job; only this week a lady from Liverpool, where my Gran was born — for me, building a tangible connection to my past is important and helps me settle into Australian life. In reality, I will always be a little Englander, and my roots run deep through my psyche. A simple day out is a reminder of where I came from, and today, just where I'm heading; for that I was truly grateful!

    Click above to visit The Elizabthan Pub Website!

    In this week's YouTube video, I am sounding off about the aggressive society we are living in. From Elon Musk to Donald Trump, the World really does feel like a horrible place at the moment. Talking about my own experiences, dealing with some truly awful characters, I am really trying to put the pieces together, to discover, just why these awful people exist, and what we can do to live our lives better. After all, there are some good people in the World, even though it just doesn't seem like it at the moment!
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    Looking Towards 2025!

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    Just after Christmas, all of us at work went out for a meal at the Bailey Brewing Company, in Swan Valley. This isn't a place I have been to before, but the large family friendly venue offers something for everyone, and we all had a wonderful time. 

    Working in retail, during the Christmas period, can be testing, but this year, everything went like clockwork. This was our first Christmas working in the new outlet store, and it has been busy, unlike anything I have seen before. Mind you, having said that, Tesco, back in the good old UK, was probably the nearest equivalent, and equally I enjoyed the cut, thrust and throng then too. I relish a thriving, busy, retail environment; yes all of us have worked hard, but the rewards are showing —  the business has grown from strength to strength and that is important. As Manager, I am delighted with its progress, just as the rest of the company is as well.

    I have accepted praise from my superiors, on behalf of the outlet, and I am so happy the team are motivated, focused and suitably inspired. I am of course lucky, to be working with some wonderful characters, but I am also content being employed by a company, whose inclusive, empowering culture, is streets above any I have experienced before!

    With Christmas now at an end, it's time to look forward to 2025 and the challenges that lie ahead. In a little over a year, I will be applying for Australian citizenship, so I have started the process of researching the exams I will have to take, to show commitment to my new home.

    Despite ongoing health issues, I am optimistic enough to look forward, to a bright, new, industrious future. It looks like we will be seeing friends from the UK this year as well, who are planning visits in a few months, and that has lifted my spirits. I haven't been feeling myself for quite a while now, so anything that gives me reason to celebrate is welcome.

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    This Sunday we spent the day at Scarborough Beach. The weather was a scorching 34 degrees, but with the cooler sea breeze, it was lovely sitting down the front having a few beers, while Darrell swam in the ocean — not something I would do myself, of course.

    Lunch was spent at the Galway Hooker with a superb Sunday Roast, and a pint of Swan Draught on a hot sunny day. I may well be living in Australia, but I still like a good traditional Sunday lunch from time to time, it really does remind me of home.

    I have had a roast at the Galway Hooker before and didn't go much on it if I am honest, so I was in two minds about going back. However, this time, it was nearly perfect. I say nearly, because, like every place I have been to in Australia, they just can't cook roast potatoes, the way the British do. They definitely need me to give them a lesson or two, on how to do it, just like my Granny did!
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    After an early lunch, we headed to Karrinyup for a spot of Sunday shopping, except I didn't buy a thing — my shopaholic days are well and truly over now. In the past, I spent a fortune on stuff I didn't need, but these days, I am very choosy about what I buy. These days, Darrell and I don't want for anything, so we just try to live our life a little more frugally.

    Karrinyup is rather overpriced, situated in one of the most affluent suburbs in Western Australia. The shops are expensive, and like most of Australia, the choice is still rather limited. Looking around, there was nothing that I felt compelled to buy, and for me that's a good thing. I would rather have a good rummage around an OP Shop (Charity Shop for the Brits), where you are always guaranteed to find a bargain. No matter where I live in the World, I will always be a fan of second hand shops — which are hugely underrated!

    This evening I spoke to my Father back in the UK for nearly two hours. We always have a good chat, especially since we haven't spoken since before Christmas. Life in the UK seems as bad as ever — the NHS is at breaking point, political drama, freezing cold weather, and Dad and I, chatting about are respective health issues.

    I do miss my Father as you would expect; I hope to travel back to Britain in the next few years to see him, but for me, life is very much in Australia now, no matter how much I miss home. I do especially miss the friends I have there, but, I know I'm far better off here, living life successfully, unlike years gone by. Building a new life down under hasn't been easy, but it has been worth the pain, to finally be in a good and successful place — let's hope 2025 brings more of the same!
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