A Revelation!

It was after a long boring day at the office, and whilst walking home that I noticed that something was missing, something that has been hanging around my neck for the last few months......as I walked down Newland Avenue in Hull I realised that the stomach twisting, heart wrenching pain that has been with me for what has felt like years has gone, although has in fact only been three months.

It was the first time for a while that I felt like myself. I felt lighter and things seemed brighter. I could see a future for myself. I don't see a relationship in the future, but I know that I can be happy by myself.

This doesn't mean that I don't miss The Girl, or care about her, or that I don't wish her anything other than the greatest and happiest future possible, as I always have, but I feel that I have truely moved on.

And when the heavens opened.....

....there is something really pleasant about lying in bed, under a duvet, listening to the rain hammering on the window. (That is until you realise that it is 5am and you still have to get up in the dark!)

This morning was one such morning.....opening the curtains to see the rain scything down under the flourescent street lights, forming huge puddles (or more accurately olympic size swimming pools in the gutters!) and knowing that in a few minutes you will be out in that deluge!

I really like being out in the rain (I'm sure it is a flash back to childhood.....jumping in puddles whilst wearing wellies) but at that time in the morning with the whole day ahead of you it is less pleasant. Somewhat soggy I arrived at the station, and found everyone huddling under the shelters, rather than the usual scrum at the doors so of course I joined them.

Imaging my pleasure to arrive in Manchester to be greeted by beautiful blue skies and a bright sun such that the sunglasses came out for the first time since France.....unfortunately this lasted until lunchtime when the heavens opened in the West too.

By home time the streets were awash, and visibility was down to about 20 feet due to the rain bouncing back up off the pavement. As I said I love the rain, and when you know you are leaving work I really don't mind getting wet. I can never understand people cowering in doorways, making dashes from pieces of cover to the next......okay if you have forgotten your umbrella or coat you are likely to get wet and no matter how much ducking or improvisng is realistically going to stop that.

I still don't understand the theory of putting a newspaper above your head! It may keep you dry for a few minutes but you are likely to end up with a damp paper mache helmet plastered to your head (okay my hair is reasonably short and sufficient unruley that it doesn't matter how wet it gets it still does it's own thing, and my makeup collection is sufficiently limited that it is unlikely to run in the wet!) I also don't understand the theory that standing in a doorway till it passes if the whole sky looks the colour of charcoal and the rain is coming down in stair-rods (not sure where that phrase comes from). Humans are designed to get wet......we have this magic barrier that prevent water getting in.....and we have managed for millenia with just this, before even putting clothes on top (I'm pretty sure I didn't miss the physiology class where we were told that humans were water soluble.....although I admit that I missed the comparative anatomy class where we compared homo sapiens with Wizard of Oz characters so I may be wrong!)

As it was I got a very relaxing, soothing walk home from the office, past cowering crowds, along pretty deserted streets with the swirl of colours mixing on the pavement or in the drains from small spills of oil, only occasionally having to avoid a fellow pedestrian bowed beneath their umbrellas.....and if I got a little wet, well I didn't have to sit next to me on the train whilst I dried out :)

Lil Niece!

My sister and niece are shortly to move down to Oxfordshire to move closer to her husband's work, so this was the last weekend we got to spend time together as a family for a while, and it meant that we spent the weekend as a family, and it was fantastic....(especially as I will also be moving to Manchester in the next few weeks as well! - something that I have mixed feelings about.....I can't wait to not have to spend four hours a day commuting, but have spent time in Manchester previously and have not taken to it massively and really love Hull)

Spending time as a family meant that there have been a lot of sitting around the table or in the garden soaking up the sun, talking, telling jokes, and remembering funny times and stories (most of which were highly embarrassing and usually centred around one or other of us doing stupid things often as the result of alcohol, or excessive sugar!) Whilst I am certainly going to miss my sister, I am also hugely going to miss my little four year old niece, who is such a hugely joyous part of our family.

Her arrival was something of a surprise. She arrived whilst I was living in Birkenhead, and my half-brother's ex-wife was pregnant (our family is seriously mixed up!!!!!) when I received a telephone call at about 6pm. I was just back from work and my Father telephoned to tell me that I was an uncle again...... (I already had 4 nephews and a niece, and my half-brother had separated from his wife and the child wasn't his so wasn't too bothered.......told you we were really mixed up!).....that went something along these lines!

"Great! Tell R...... and N....... I hope they are well!"
"No, it's not N...... it's B..... your sister!"
"Pardon? What the ******? How can she have had a baby? She's not even pregnant?"
"Seriously!"
"We saw her last weekend, she was definitely not pregnant......we went to the pub and everything!"
"Well she most definitely was as she's now at HRI with a little baby girl!"
"We'll be over next weekend!"

There really was no indication that she was pregnant, an even having been to a Dr that day she really had no idea (I know that this is the sort of thing that you read about in 'Hello' or 'OK' and think "yeah.....right......how can you not know?" but seriously there was no indication at all!) So very bravely my sister brought little niece into the world. She is truly remarkable. Now at 4 she is loves to dance and sing, has known most of the lyrics to "Mama Mia" for about a year and a half, and will take any opportunity to put on a show. She also loves to dance and if she isn't on the stage when she is older I will eat my hat......well maybe not, but she does have the temperament to be great on stage.

So this lil bundle of shock and confusion that arrived four years ago is a huge part of the whole family's life, who touches the life of everyone who meets her, and who is such a caring and loving little person, is shortly to move away, and I know that we will all miss her (although we will be visiting as often as possible!)

Music calms the savage beast!

It is amazing how music is able to bring so many different emotions, how you can choose a track that you know is going to match your mood perfectly......to pick you up....to bring you down.....to chill you out.....or to get your arse out of the door for a night out.

For me Moby's - Why does my heart will always bring a tear to my eye, as will My Immortal by Evanescene, and there are times when everyone has to cry (admittedly I am a big kinda wuss....I mean I'm a big rufty toughty caveman! Honest.....well one that admits to having shed a few tears over Extreme Makeovers Home Edition). I think that there has to be times when you can close yourself away in your room and release all your pent up emotions. I found this especially hard when I was in a relationship, as although there were times that we were apart, it was difficult to shed a tear. One of my favourite places to go to be by myself is Beverley Westwood, especially in the autumn at either dusk or dawn, to see the sun rising of setting through bare trees with mist flowing.

Viva la Vida by Coldplay will always remind me of happier times after seeing them at one of the most amzing concerts that I have ever been to (Chris Martin was amazing, and I don't think anyone will be able to cover any of his tracks because of his unique voice!)

Scooter's Nessaja's lyrics always make me smile. I dont think that I can hear "It's not bird, it's not a plane, it must be Dave who's on the train!" without laughing out loud! Anything by Radiohead will calm me down (I think they can probably calm anyone down.....just not the type of music to listen to when your down though! Kinda messy!) and anything by Linkin Park will lift me up.

I went through a period when whatever mood I wanted to feel I could play Linkin Park to take me there, from "Numb" to "What I've done".

My musical tastes match my mind completely, eclectic. I grew up dancing to the sounds of Guns and Roses and Meatloaf, and somehow progressed to dancing around in warehouses to hardcore dance mixes. I haven't changed at all and will dance to anything (I have to admit that now it takes two or three drinks to get me on the floor now) ......when I stayed in York we would go out about once a week dancing, and I miss it.....crazy as I used to live a few doors down from Welly Club in Hull.....kinda stupid not to use what was on the doorstep, but very rarely did! I hope that this can change shortly when I move to Manchester!

I love music, and the way that it can affect you psychologically.

Being British

Whilst I was in France I began to question what it is to be British. I am fiercely proud to be Brisith (I say British rather than English as my Father is Scots/Irish and my Mother is Welsh) but still class myself as from this 'Sceptred Isle'. I am also hugely proud of having Hull as my hometown, and being classed as a 'Yorkshireman!'. However when it comes to community and national pride, we seem to take a very British stiff upper lip, must not make a fuss attitude, which I really think is a shame. We are, and have been since the Romans' first conquered us, a hugely multicultural society but we do not seem to be able to stand up and say "Here we are, we are British!"



This is at complete odds to the reaction that you see in France, who are equally diverse and multicultural, although community and national pride is something that they readily display. A simple example was a French family I met, who although they lived in Canada their 7 year old daughter considered France her Mother Country, and who knew more French history, traditions and heritage than I did about England. Did that mean that they had a longer history, or more heritage, that we do......I didn't think so, but this question kept coming back to me as I saw more and more of their pride in the country and community.

This culminated when I went to a re-enactment of the last battle of the Hundred Years War, which led to the expulsion of the British from Aquitainne. It took place outside a small town called Castillion (now Castillion de Battaile!) about 30 kilometres from Bordeaux. Having been to a couple of re-enactments I was not sure what to expect (they can be somewhat of a mixed bag usually......and certainly my expectations were not enhanced to see on arrival a dozen frenchwomen dressed as what I can only describe as warrior princesses, with leather and fur......a VERY VERY SCARY SIGHT!) Fortunately the event itself did not conform to my initial impressions.

It did not start until 10:30pm and was set in a valley beneath an old chateau, with a large grandstand. I did wonder whether it would just be a bunch of men hitting each other with swords, more for their enjoyment than anything else, but this could not have been further from the truth. The fighting itself only consisted of a small proportion of the three hour spectacle. It consisted of about 700 local people who portrayed the everyday life of life in the mid-15th Century, from Lords out hunting, to the lowliest ox drivers and washer women. I think that they probably emptied the majority of the town, who all took great pleasure in displaying their town's and country's history 5 weekends throughout July and August.

It was an amazing experience to be sitting surrounded by about 4,000 french men, women and children all experiencing and enjoying their history in fantastic surroundings (it also smacked somewhat of watching 'Braveheart' in a Scottish cinema hearing the cheers as the British were womped!) As we left the cast formed a channel through which the entire audience walked to be greated and thanked. There was such a feeling of community that I had to question whether such a thing could ever take place in the UK? I have no doubt that we have equally as many key turning points in our history of which we can be proud but I cannot see that we would ever have the community or national spirit to put on such a spectacle.

I don't for a minute support or even condone the views of the more radical political groups who do not seem to be able to grasp that to be 'British' is to have such a mix of cultures and histories. From Celts, to Romans, Angles, Saxons, Vikings, Normans and so on, but I do think it is a shame that we do not seem to be able to put aside our Georgian veneer and say "yes were British, this is who we are, where we have come from, what we have done, acheived and this is where we are now!"

Recently there has been a movement to get to know your neighbours, to hold street parties, and I think that is a great idea, that we can grow stronger as communities, towns, and indeed a nation!

Where life takes you?

Returning to the UK has left me feeling somewhat unsettled, and I find myself wondering where my life will lead me next.



I always hate travelling back from holiday anyway, and a stop over in the office before catching the train for my final leg of the journey made me realise that after a week of relaxed business, I am returning to the hectic non-stop life of the rat-race with a mammoth catch up week ahead of me. I have never understood why, when you are excited about travelling to go away on holiday the journey always seems to fly by, when when you are returning home, with little or nothing to look forward to the journey seems to last an indeterminable length of time (surely it should be the other way round? I would have thought that with something to look forward to time would seem stretched and drawn out!)

This has been compounded by a horrendous first day back......a five hour journey to Canterbury.....extended by missing the train I was supposed to be on, for an hour and a half interview, for a further four and a half journey back!

As it is sitting on the train, looking at the photographs that I have taken of the little piece of Eden that I was fortunate to spend a week in, I question what am I coming back to? I know that I have my friends and family, and they are very important to me, but ultimately I return to a job that was always ever going to be a second or third choice, to a home town that I am soon to be leaving, and the empty ache that tells me that I know that for a short time I had everything that I wanted in the palm of my hand, and that it slipped away (I know people keep telling me that if it was going to happen it was better to happen now before we committed ourselves any deeper - but that doesn't really help the here and now!)

I have had a number of 'dream jobs' that I could have followed, and yet life has brought me to this point. I don't regret aby of my choices and I know that I have been hugely fortunate in the chances that I have had (I have seen armed service, played rugby professionally and fenced for my Country) but I keep returning to the question........"Is this what I can expect for the rest of my life?" Don't get me wrong, I quite enjoy the work I do, but it is and always has been a means to an end, to pay my bills and to allow me to do the things I would like to do (and it keeps my bank manager happy!) I suppose at the end of the day that is all you can expect from a job, but should there be something more?

Home from home!

Dear UK,

Weather here! Wish you were beautiful!

The view on arrival

I had intended to update "Blogland" more often en France, but a combintation of lethargy, extreme activity (well not so much activity, but rather sun bathing and intermittent vinyard visits) and a somewhat sporadic internet access has meant that rather than bore you all with the things I have been doing (or more to the point things that I haven't) I thought it sensible to update you occasionally.

What a sight to wake up to!

As it is I have arrived at what is a home from home. There are no pressures, life is so relaxed and time has no real meaning, with the peace and quiet forming a complete blanket from the world at large. If you wake at 7a.m. then you can cycle (yes I know somewhat stereotypical for France) to the boulangerie for the fresh bread, take the dog for a walk and swim in the Garonne, pick fresh fruit and vegetables straight from the trees or vines.....yet if you do not wake until 11a.m. (depending upon the volume of alcohol and food stuffed into you the night before) it really isn't a problem either and the countryside and sun is there to welcome you when you do walk through the door.

I have had a lot of homes up and down the UK, but nothing feels more like my parents' home in Hull than the house in Barie. It is such a warm and friendly atmosphere that immediately makes you feel relaxed and at ease. There is so much space around that even when other people are around you can still take the opportunity to be at one with yourself, and I have used this time to regain a little piece of myself that I had lost recently.

After the last 6 months this has been a balm that I did not realise I needed, but has been a complete break from all the troubles in the UK. I am just sorry that it has taken all the problmes to make me appreciate what I am fortunate to have.

I wont go on, but enclose a few photographs and wish you all Bon jour!

P.S. - I will add some photographs, but unfortunately at present the uploading its says NO!