The Boy and The Coconut Tree

As politicians on the right make profit from the terrorism in Manchester last week (but do deals with the spreaders of hate in Saudi Arabia) I wanted to say why they don't speak for me, a British man, not a flag waving patriot but someone who likes what this country is despite its flaws (flaws which have nothing to do with migrants or religions), flaws that politicians could fix if they were not simply interested in feathering their own nests and profiting from the suffering of others. Last night I was drinking with one of my friends who was born in Spain, raised in the UK, for me that is a typical weekend. He is straight, the rest of us were gay, again a normal night out in London.  Next week I will be having dinner with my American friend married to an Indian man, his best friend and his sister, again, a normal event in modern Britain. This morning I was served coffee by Simona from Italy and later today I had my eyes tested by Sanya, a British Muslim and was served in ...

This is just a run of the mill e ntry , no drama etc. So May is almost over, not Theresa May , I would love her to be over, I am talking about the month, a funny month, changes galore and it is hard to believe that 4 weeks ago I was in Montreal and Quebec eating gravy and chips and not feeling guilty about it. I changed jobs in May, not because I wanted to but my contract was coming to an end and was fortunate enough to find another job with a similar title, well instead of Professional Standards Manager I became Head of Professional Standards. A big leap and as my new boss said, I've become a big fish in a small pond after being a small fish in a big pond for a long time and it is scary, I feel like I've jumped over a big wall and whilst trying to enjoy that success I am now in a big garden or rather a safari park and there are bigger beasts to deal with. I am neither a real pessimist or a Pollyanna optimist so it is too soon to measure my success or failure. All I know right...

I have now been to Canada 4 times including a horribly unnecessary layover at Toronto thanks to United Airlines and their allergy to punctuality.  This is the first time I have been to Canada for more than a long weekend, the previous visits were long weekends in 2001 and 2002. The catalyst for this trip was a friend of mine from Spain, emigrating to Quebec City, a city I had not visited but was on my list of ' get there eventually ' places. The trip began with my British Airways flight from London on the new 787 Dreamliner. Most people know I am a nerd about things like ships and planes and was excited to fly on this new airliner, it was interesting and was as quiet as people had said but the BA interior already looked shabby and dark so the plane seemed 5 years old, not 2.  The BA crew were indifferent and snarky but I enjoyed the inflight movies and the meal wasn't bad, the old lady sitting next to me wanted none of hers so offered me her extras. Canadian immigratio...

I am not sure what is more difficult, managing 3 adults or teaching a class of 30 kids.  The past few weeks have tested my skills as a manager and my patience as a human being. I am ready for my move to pastures new in May. One of the nicer things this week has been my temporary house guest, Elena, from Kiev.  The sister of a neighbour who needed a room for a few days so she could explore London relatively cheaply.  She was quiet, tidy and friendly and it was great to have someone from a country that I've never visited and didn't have friends from. She was an enthusiastic tourist and was brave enough to attend a Premier League football match on her own, far braver than me.  I am not a cheerleader for AirBNB and Elena was not a complete stranger as her brother is my neighbour but it was nice to have another person in the empty flat for a few days before I move to my new place.  As of late April I will no longer be sharing a flat/house with anyone and taking ...

In the middle of last week I had a wobble and I posted something titled ' Peering over the cliff's edge '  I wouldn't call it a meltdown but if I was a nuclear reactor, people would have been evacuated. A few people contacted me and messaged me as soon as I posted it, and that was nice but I certainly don't want people to worry. It was more a little insight, proof that I understand myself and what is going on in my head and right now I am standing much closer to the carousel than the cliff. People assume I am always happy, friends expect me to be the centre of the fun and energy, those are my friends who have known me since university when I DID have lots of energy and was very happy.  25 years can do a lot to a person. Life, real life hacks away at the energy and happiness, it is the same as erosion, the rain and wind and heat and cold eventually turn mountains to sand, life can erode our souls.  I recovered from my meltdown in two ways: Firstly I went to the gym,...

Part 1: It can happen to anyone, one minute we are riding the carousel, laughing, our faces sticky with candy floss and the next minute the sky has darkened and we are peering over the cliff's edge. The seaside can be fun and dangerous. This is not my story, it may not be anyone's story but it is a story all the same. The sound of the carousel has faded into the background and now all I can hear is the sea as it washes the pebbles on the beach below me. I am now peering over the cliff's edge into the abyss and the sirens are calling me. I snap out of it of course, I usually do, but not everyone does. Remember that. Not everyone's day at the seaside is all candy floss and carousels. 

My relationship with the USA goes back a long way.  In 1976 Jimmy Carter came to my home town, planted a tree and we all waved the Stars & Stripes at the end of our school field as he drove by, we were excited, not sure why but we knew where America was, and what it meant to us, cowboys, yellow taxis, skyscrapers, Starsky & Hutch etc, the USA was a an icon that seemed friendly and creative. As I grew up and I studied history I learnt of Pearl Harbour, D Day, Hiroshima etc and the stories of how the USA saved us from the Nazis (the Soviet Union's role was whitewashed at the time due to the cold war).  I met my first American in 1982 on a school trip in Belgium (at the site of the Battle of Waterloo), they were tall, loud and friendly and curious about the fact we came from a place called Washington in England.  In 1996 I went to the USA for the first time, New York, and it was every thing I imagined, the thrill of seeing the skyline of Manhattan from JFK airport, ...