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    Anxiety Free For Now!

    Australia Bipolarcoaster Friends Colleagues Gran Alacant Ibs Memories Of Spain Thailand And Singapore 2025 Weight Loss Health blog
    For once, I've had a pretty quiet week. There have been no health problems, anxiety or stress, so as the video above explains, I am feeling practically stress-free. Now that is a first for me!  I am feeling that good, that I don't have any IBS symptoms, and I am actually sleeping well; better than I have done in years. Despite the nasty weather in Perth at the moment, I have absolutely nothing to complain about, now that is a shocker for me and probably you as well.

    With all my health issues more or less cleared up, I am beginning to look forward to our holiday in Thailand and Singapore. This is where my mind is right now, and I am starting to feel excited about our 30th anniversary trip. I am of course making preparations to hopefully avoid contracting an infection this time around, and I am doing what I can to stop any future staph infection, from manifesting while we are abroad. Interestingly, after much research, I have discovered that probiotics could be key to beating this god-awful disease. 

    Normally I take a probiotic every day, but on holiday I don't. There is no real reason why, rather, I just don't take them with me when I am travelling. In Asia, I do suffer from infections, and yes, you guessed it, home in Perth, I do not. I am hoping that by taking a strong capsule daily; while touring Southeast Asia, I will be able to stop any nasty bacteria in its tracks. Here's hoping anyway! I am well aware of how destructive staphylococcus Aureus can be, so anything I can do to avoid it for a third time, is worth a try!
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    Just one other thing to mention, before you check out the video, and it's about a person I haven't seen in eight years. Dawn, was a fellow expat, and close friend I knew, while living in Gran Alacant, in Spain. She just happened to show up in my store in Midland a week ago — just out of the blue. She was visiting a friend here in Australia and was passing through, before travelling onto Africa.

    Dawn was part of The No Wives Club in Spain. All of us, who were close at that time, had our respective partners and husbands working or living abroad. We formed a close bond, during difficult times. Sadly, we lost touch over the years and I never believed I would see her again. For Dawn to just pop up, unexpectedly, over the other side of the world, was extraordinary, but extremely lovely. It was a joy to catch up, even briefly. Sadly, I won't be able to see her again, as our paths once again take different directions. However, it was a precious moment that brought a much-needed smile to my face. Of course, I wish her all the best — and who knows, we may bump into each other again one day.

    That's it this week, short and sweet — enjoy the video!
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    Remembering Giles

    Australia Friends Colleagues blog
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    This week has been another challenging one, as I discovered yet another friend had passed away back in the UK. Giles, had been a friend for about twenty years and once again, I am totally devastated at losing yet another person in my life. Coming so soon after, I discovered my dear friend Myra had died, a little over a month ago, I am wondering what will happen next!

    Despite only finding out Giles passed away just a few days ago, I discovered he actually died last year. I had been so busy and preoccupied with building a new life down under, that I hadn't spoken to Giles, in a year and a half. Awful isn't it; I had literally been too busy to care, and I couldn't feel more guilty. In truth, this was the relationship Giles and I had; we would sometimes not chat for long periods of time, but when we did, we just picked up from where we last left off!

    ​A few nights ago, I had a dream about Giles and immediately woke up in a cold sweat. That doesn't happen too often, so I knew I had to check his social media, to make sure he was OK. As soon as I was fully awake, I started to scroll through his Facebook page. At first, all seemed well; there were the usual Birthday messages from friends, but I soon realised, these were no ordinary messages of congratulations, these were tokens of affection from friends and family, remembering Giles on his Birthday. For a moment, I just laid there in bed, mouth open wide, in shock. It couldn't quite believe Giles had gone. I was immediately overcome with guilt, realising I had missed his passing. Aghast, I was literally overcome with emotion, as happens all too frequently these days.

    Since moving to Australia, I have become so wrapped up in my own life, that my dearest, closest friends, have taken a back seat. It was a horrible feeling, thinking, maybe, I could have been there or done something to help. Sadly, I have no idea how or why Giles died, and I really don't think it is appropriate to delve further into the whys and wherefores of it. It won't do me any good to know what happened, and it certainly won't bring Giles back. I just need to remember him as he was and concentrate my efforts on reconnecting with others, who I haven't seen or heard from in a while.

    Giles was always there, especially at the most difficult times in my life. Giles, or 'Barge Queen' as I knew him, was a wealth of knowledge and experience and always gave me advice when I needed it. Without him, my life would have been so much poorer.

    A former drag artist and costume designer and creator, Giles worked with many celebrities over the years. He often wrote for my blog, especially at Christmas, detailing his designs for the latest pantomime he was a part of. His social media was always a positive happy place — full of happy, wonderful, smiling photos of him and the people he worked with. He would frequently tell me stories that would make your hair stand on end, but was a huge part of our friendship together and always made me laugh. His routine was so far removed from my own, that his pantomime tales were always a welcome break from my own trivialities of life and of course, a big part of who Giles was!

    Giles was proud of whom he had become, and I admired him greatly, for his amazing sense of humour and ability to make you feel good about yourself, even during the darkest of days. Not only did he write for my blog at Christmas, but he also took part in 'Photographs of Hope', during the pandemic, when readers of Roaming Brit, send in photos of 'things' that gave them hope for the future, 

    It was always a joy being around Giles. I last saw him in 2022, when he visited me at the pub where I was working in Portsmouth. He was down working at The King's Theatre in Portsmouth, a place he loved with all his heart. Despite living in St Helen's, he, like me, was a Portsmouth boy, born and bred and never forgot his roots, always relishing a return to The Kings at Christmas.

    This is of course another sad farewell to a beautiful soul, who is no longer here. It is difficult believing he has actually gone. Seeing him in my dream a few nights ago, was a sign from him to me, that I truly believe, no matter what others may say. This is also a time for me to reflect on the unique character, who was a part of my life for so long and remember the amazing friendship we had, even if it was mostly from a distance. Giles will always remain in my heart as a friend like no other and, like all those I have lost over the years, I will make sure he lives on in the memories of all of those who knew him. Goodnight my lovely, you will always be in my thoughts!
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    Click above to take you to Giles' Photographs of Hope entry, from April 2020!

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    Giles and actress Sue Pollard

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    Toxic People and Insomnia!

    Australia Bullying Current Affairs Politics Friends Colleagues blog

    Well, as I'm sure you are aware by now, this week's blog, is about toxic people, a subject I have plenty of knowledge about, after working for the most toxic charity in the United Kingdom, for eight, long, years. If I am perfectly honest, I am sat here exhausted and feeling particularly debilitated. No, not because of my job, but because of 'TOXIC PEOPLE' who have made my life a misery this week. I am so thankful it is the weekend right now, and I am able to recharge, after such a horrible seven days. Sometimes, I think I am too old for having opinions and speaking my mind — maybe it is time, to just settle down and live a peaceful life?

    Every Sunday, I like to blog; this is the moment I can really sit down, think about the ups and downs of the past week and finally relax. Since an altercation with several people online, I haven't been on social media and so far I don't have a desire too. To think, the way I am feeling now, is all because of a complimentary comment I made towards, a rather famous comedian, after commenting on how wonderful they looked. Usually this would be an acceptable way of expressing one's thoughts towards another human being, but because this comedian is transsexual, I have experienced a crescendo of abuse, like you wouldn't believe.

    I was attacked verbally online by a person I do not know, much else, ever met. They decided to stalk me across all my social media pages, and describe in graphic detail, how I should be strung up and publically hung in the street. This individual said plenty more that is unprintable and would go against my contract with Google, if I mentioned it today, so I won't. That person caused me enough pain and upset, without Google cancelling my account as well.

    The person in question was a Reform Party supporter; it was emblazoned across his social media page. In his words, when Reform wins the next election, people like me will be dealt with. As a gay man, who grew up in the 1970s and 80s, I am well aware of what discrimination is and feels like. Darrell and I have been discriminated against all our lives, and I really thought the World had changed. Clearly, from the tone and behaviour of this far right supporter, nothing could be further from the truth, and I still feel shocked to the core at the language he used.

    After thinking about it, I responded to his diatribe, by sharing a post about Reform. I suppose it was to make me feel better and just get the anger off my chest. I literally thought nothing more about it, until several friends also started to verbally assault me for posting it. One of those has been a friend for over thirty years, and we both are polar opposites politically, so I accept his comments, as I always did in the past. His friendship is far too important to me to do anything else.  The observations he made were neither offensive, nor over the top, and certainly didn't cause me any upset. The other guy, however, was a volunteer, who I employed whilst working for Oxfam — I have no such loyalty or attachment towards him, and am totally flabbergasted by his outburst.

    There wasn't an ounce of empathy, and he couldn't care less about my feelings. There was no understanding at all. His behaviour was pure toxicity, and I was in no mood to take any of it. I replied several times, when I decided to just block him and get on with the rest of my life. Judging by previous experience, this is the only was to deal with someone like that. 

    Trying to put this kind of thing to the back of my mind, can be difficult for an insomniac like me. Over the last few years, my sleeping patterns have gotten steadily worse. Some nights I only have 4 hours sleep, others a bit more. I sleep a maximum of six hours, and I am wide awake at 4am every day, ready to start the day. Believe me, I have tried everything to solve this, but to no avail. Today, I just live with it and hope it gets better.

    I strongly believe, my insomnia is a result of the severe anxiety I suffer with. I no longer wear my Fitbit to bed to monitor my sleep, as I believe it has made my sleep anxiety worse. I have also started to switch my phone off several hours before sleeping and make sure the bedroom is as dark as possible. Luckily, Darrell and I have a three-bedroom house and I can sleep alone when absolutely necessary, which helps us both in the long run.

    As a nervous individual I do not cope with anxiety and stress very well, so when anything happens, that upsets my wellbeing and sense of balance, I can not sleep at all. What happened this week has just tired me out. I know I should learn to ignore the haters, but I do have a voice and an opinion, which I am entitled to express. No one should try to silence anyone. I believe in mutual respect and understanding and would never attack someone for their views.

    After this blog today, offloading all the hate, I will not mention this incident again. The therapeutic nature of blogging is such, that I will never need to. I can, however, look back at this entry in a few months time and hopefully learn from the hurtful comments, growing stronger because of it. Yes, at 54 years old, I am still learning and will always continue to, until the day I die. I like to think I am better than all the hateful people in the World, especially at the moment, and look forward to a time, when we can all live together in peace and harmony once again… Until then, I guess there will be many more episodes like this, but each one is a reminder to do better, strive for more meaningful friendships and above all, rise above the fray!
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    Goodbye Aunty My!

    Australia Family Friends Colleagues Milestones blog
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    Today has been filled with mixed emotions, as I heard of the death of one of my dearest friends from the UK. Aunty My, as I called her, was a lady I had known for about twenty-five years and someone I loved with all my heart. After reposting a photo of me, Myra, and her sister Jean, on Facebook, I was informed that Myra passed away at the end of March. I was totally devastated and upset — this was a lady who I regarded as family, along with her sister Jean. She was a friend with a heart of gold, who I can't believe has left this mortal coil.

    I have lost count of the number of people who have died, while Darrell and I have been living abroad. Sometimes it feels that everyone who has ever been close to us, are no longer here; the passing of friends, no matter how close, never fails to pull at my heart strings. Aunty My was a wonderful lady, who I had some truly wonderful times with, We would often go out on the lash, (an English saying for going out to get drunk), ending up in a curry house or club afterwards. I have so many happy memories of her and all of us together, that I just don't know where to begin, but begin I will. She deserves to be remembered, as one of the most caring and supportive people you could ever wish to have in your life, and that was so important to me, especially in recent years.

    I suppose when I was younger, I was somewhat of a social butterfly, unlike today. Darrell and I would frequently throw large, lavish fancy dress parties in our house in Southampton. So many friends and family would come, dressed in fabulous costumes — we would party the night away, until the early hours; happy times filled with laughter, music and over the top camp partying.  Myra and her sister Jean would always be there celebrating landmark Birthdays, royal weddings and anniversaries. All of my memories from twenty years ago, include Aunty My — in all but name, she was family and a huge part of my life.

    As my life changed and Darrell and I moved away to Spain, Aunty Myra, was still there, messaging, chatting, and always sending her love. Not long after we moved to our new house in Gran Alacant, I recall receiving a message from Myra and Jean, who were at Alicante Airport. If I remember rightly, there had been a problem with their booking at a hotel in Benidorm, not too far from where we lived. Myra asked if they could crash for a few days while they sorted out somewhere to stay — well, of course, how could I say no. I was delighted they were coming my way!

    Seeing them both turn up in a taxi outside our Spanish casa, was an absolute joy; I was so glad to see these two friends, so rooted in the story of my life, waving outside. After the traumatic circumstances, that brought us to Gran Alacant, nearly ten years ago now, It was so good to see friendly faces. I spent five wonderful days with My and Jean, at a time when I needed it most.

    ​In 2018 my time in Spain came to an end, as Darrell and I separated to be with our respective Mothers. My Mother and Darrell's Mum were seriously ill, and the only thing we could do was leave our dream home and, in my case, be close to Mum during her final days. It was a sad ending to our deeply personal journey, to a new life in Gran Alacant, that we haven't fully recovered from, even today.

    It was a frantic time, as I tried to sort out somewhere to stay in the UK on my return. Aunty Myra immediately stepped up, saying I could stay for as long as I wanted. Towards the end of May, after an emotional farewell to friends in Spain, I arrived at Myra's. There was a massive hug and a home cooked meal on the table — I truly felt happy, content and thankful to be with someone, who always made me feel welcome. 

    From Myra's I moved on to my Aunty's in Portsmouth; all the while we kept in contact, never losing that connection we had built up over many years. She was a real support during some difficult days. While Darrell remained in Australia caring for his Mum, I was so glad she was at the end of a phone.

    ​In 2020 the Pandemic took hold, and the World shut down. This was the most difficult time in my life. Darrell was locked down in Australia, and I was locked down in the UK. Alone, I reached out to Myra, and throughout the duration of COVID-19 we spoke every single week. I knew then just how sick Myra was. She had COPD, and I could tell how each phone call, would be more difficult than the last. She insisted I kept phoning, however, and not to stop. We talked about everything, from the Pandemic and the emergency packages she received every couple of days from a local charity, her beautiful family, and the memories we both shared. This was someone who was fighting harder and harder, and I encouraged her to be positive, happy, and always look to the future — God knows she tried, bless her!

    The last time I heard from Myra was at Christmas, as I did every year, receiving her neatly written card. This was a security blanket for me at least. This card was a link to my past that was no longer there, and I bloody missed it, and her, her sister Jean, and the great, memorable times we had together. I can't tell you the amount of times, I just wanted to go back to what was the happiest time in my life. However, having a little piece of Myra here with me in Australia, was just enough to jog my memory and keep me fighting, just as she had fought for so long.

    ​COPD is an insidious disease — one day you feel fine, the next not. Sometimes Myra was full of life on the phone, and others not, but she was still the happy, glamorous, perfectly manicured lady, I had always adored. I just hoped and prayed she would be fine, putting the worst outcome to the back of my mind, until today. I will miss her with all my heart, and will put her last Christmas card up every year, next to Mums. Remembering her, and the zest she had for life, will be a gentle reminder of the funny, beautiful lady she was, and I was honoured to call her my friend.
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    We spent Saturday afternoon with an old school friend of Darrell's, having lunch in Mandurah, along the coast. Despite feeling down about Myra, I was glad of the company. Initially, I just wanted to be alone, but I am glad I went. In my heart I toasted Myra, her life and our friendship. Like me, she enjoyed a beer or two, so it felt apt, to be sat in a bar by the sea in Australia, thinking about her and the memories we shared. She was a truly remarkable lady, who always looked out for me and Darrell, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

    Each loss of a friend hits me harder than the last. Myra's has been the hardest of all, but after everything she had been through in her life, I know she has gone to a much better place. As I have gotten older, I realise just how important people are to me now. I have made my family over the years, not in the traditional sense, but through choice, mutual love and respect, and of course out of fate. Fate has brought all of us together — a hodgepodge of diverse individuals who, under normal circumstances, wouldn't have ever met. Thankfully, we did, and I am able to write about Aunty Myra today.

    My life became a little lonelier today, less rich, emptier, and a hell of a lot sadder. Rest in Peace, Aunty Myra — you touched my heart, which is why it hurts so badly. Without you, my life would have been all the poorer; your memory will live on, your laugher will continue to fill my home, and your kindness and courage will be a reminder of how brave you were, and how loved you will always be… Goodnight, Aunty My, sleep well!

    … And finally — Thank you all for your Birthday messages. I no longer celebrate in the same way I used to. At 54 years old, I have become rather distant from significant milestones, that just add more years to one's life. With the death of Myra fresh in my mind, my Birthday serves as a reminder, to live my life in the best way I can…
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    Feeling Invisible as a gay man!

    Australia Friends Colleagues My Life Weight Loss Health blog
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    It's been a bit of a strange week for me, as I come to terms with that possible Glaucoma diagnosis. As you would expect, I have done a lot of research into the subject, and rather than make me feel more anxious, I am actually feeling rather philosophical about the whole thing. This isn't a condition I can change, so I just have to live with what may happen in the future. There is a lot they can do for me, should they need to, and I am as confident as I can be for the future.
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    On Monday, I burnt my hand, while making dinner. After cooking Carrot and Thyme soup on the stove, I began to ladle it into the blender. After blending up the ingredients, I noticed it was leaking from the bottom. Lifting the jug up from the unit, hot, molten carrot soup, poured over my hand and down my leg. Bloody hell, did I scream!

    I ran into the shower, jumped in and stood there naked, keeping my hand under a cold shower, for what seemed like hours. Meanwhile, poor Darrell, cleaned up the mess and ran out to get some ice, telling me to put my hand into ice-cold water on his return. As I know now, that was a mistake and undoubtably caused more damage to my skin.

    In the end, the pain was so bad, I went to urgent care here in Midland, where my wounds were dressed by a nurse. She explained that the ice would have caused more damage to already damaged skin, and not to do it in future — that's highly unlikely, since I will never be making soup again! It seems that by running from the kitchen to the shower, I left the hot liquid on my skin for far too long, once again causing more damage. On top of this, I have lost the feeling in my thumb, as a result of nerve damage. This may or may not come back, all dependent on how deep the burn was.

    Nevertheless, it seems to be healing neatly and thankfully looks a hundred times better than it did. I am hoping it will be more or less healed in another few days — fingers crossed.

    ​In my vlog today, I am discussing my feelings of loneliness and the difficulties I am experiencing as a gay man of a certain age. I am no longer the youngster I once was, and moving all over the World since my mid-forties has caused me to feel more and more invisible. Today in Australia, I have very few friends that I can talk to and confide in, relying heavily on friends back home in the UK.

    Western Australia is a beautiful place, but the people tend to be rather insular and making a meaningful connection with anyone is hard. Currently, Darrell and I are on our own and have to rely on each other. When you receive difficult news from the Doctor, need a chat about issues you are experiencing on a daily basis, or just need a friend to have a drink with, you find yourself looking for the impossible; they just don't exist.

    ​I have spoken to many people here about how I feel, and with such a high immigrant population in the west , the majority of them agreed — Australia is a really hard place to integrate.

    Despite this fact, neither Darrell nor I will be returning to the UK anytime soon. We have built a good life here, have a beautiful home and are getting ahead in a way we could have only dreamed of in Britain. Feeling invisible does have its advantages too. You can live your life as you think fit, and you don't have to make time for anyone else. I know that may sound sad, but this is the first time we have been in charge of our own destiny. We are doing exactly what we want, travelling to amazing places, and want for nothing. There is of course the nagging feeling of loneliness, but it is a sacrifice we are willing to make to get ahead.

    ​Nothing lasts forever, and I am sure our outlook may change in the future. For now, we are just happy to be in a good place and not at the mercy of a system that seeks to thwart your every endeavour. Yes, we do feel alone in this vast country at the edge of the World, but that's a cross we will have to bear and a sadness we will have to endure!
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    Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!

    Australia Friends Colleagues Marmite Watch Memories Of Portsmouth blog
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    This week I received a package from home. A friend I have known, since I worked at The Newcome Arms in Portsmouth, was chatting with me shortly after Christmas, about my new life in Australia. Gez was always a ray of sunshine — as I worked behind the bar, he often made me laugh and always made me feel welcome, included and appreciated, despite my rather dubious Bartender skills. He was, and undoubtedly still is, full of life, happy, and an absolute joy to be around. It's people like Gez I miss every day living in Perth, and one of the many reasons I still have a deep fondness for the country of my birth.

    Gez was chatting about Christmas, and all the food he had to throw out, listing delicacies you can only find in Britain. Top of his list was good old 'Twiglets,' a savoury snack I have loved since I was a wee child. Apparently, according to my late Mother, 'Twiglets' are healthier than other similar treats, and I was actively encouraged to enjoy this acquired taste, in moderation of course.

    Now, I have no idea if these are healthier than any other crisp, but they sure are tastier. Back in the day when I was young, these twig shaped Marmite sticks, were bigger than they are now. Apparently, health and safety deemed them a choking hazard; these twigs would often get stuck in my throat, so god knows what happened to other potential victims. However, I am digressing — Gez was explaining how much he disliked them, and just how many tubs he had thrown out, to my absolute horror.

    ​'Gez mate, No, don't do that, I love them. Rather than throw them out, send them my way!' Even though I can get Twiglets here in Australia, the packets are small, and they cost nearly $4.00 a time, and a tub of them is impossible to get. Consequently, I'd be more than happy to take them off Gezs' hands, despite being thousands of miles away.

    To be honest, I didn't think anymore about our conversation, after my off the cuff comments, until Gez asked if he could have my address; he had something he wanted to send to me. Six weeks later, I received a rather large parcel at my parcel collect address here in Perth. For those of you who don't know what Parcel Collect is, let me enlighten you:

    The postal service in Australia is particularly insecure, rather like it is in Spain. Having lived in both countries, I can't tell you how many times I have lost parcels in their respective postal systems, so having a secure address for deliveries is essential. Mail is normally delivered to post boxes at the end of drives, and these poorly maintained boxes are often broken into and items stolen.

    The post office in Midland contacts me when mail arrives, and I collect it, mostly without a hitch. It had been six weeks since Gez sent his parcel, and I believed it had gone missing, as so many others do here. What with the floods over east, and the lack of tracking, there is any number of reasons why, but, when I picked it up, I could immediately see it was from Portsmouth, and I realised it was from Gez.

    ​Inside the box were four large tubs of 'Twiglets' and two jumbo jars of Marmite. Gez had remembered our conversation, and decided he would send me some provisions. He really does have a heart of gold and made my day. I haven't had British Marmite for years now, and although we do get 'Our mate,' which is the Aussie equivalent, it still doesn't taste quite the same; I was delighted to have some proper stuff from back home, and the taste is, well, glorious — if that's your kind of thing.

    Living so far from home, you do begin to realise who your friends are. I was introduced to many new friends and colleagues while living in Portsmouth, and they are some of the best people I have ever met. Gez is an example of someone, who has quite simply left an indelible mark on my heart. When you meet the good ones in life, grab hold of them, keep them close and never let go — these are the friends who keep the memories alive, wherever I am in the World!
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