The question is, will it last?? |
Have passport, will travel |
Join me on the journey as I travel, eat, and drink my way around the world
The question is, will it last?? |
Have passport, will travel |
by Fran 3 Comments
One of the very first pics, August 2012 |
One of the many friends I have made |
Xmas 2013, not on the beach |
Quite pointedly, you will see that I have not referenced “resolutions” in this. Why is that? As we all know, resolutions only ever turn out to be a temporary state of affairs. Very ephemeral. They don’t even sometimes last beyond the first hangover of the year. When all you are craving is a bacon, egg, and black pudding butty.
The first time you fall off your own particular wagon, then it is a case of, “oh well, maybe I will try that again next January.” I am a firm believer in living the very best life you can. All the time. Not once a year. And not as a result of a guilt fueled post December blow out.
I do like to set myself annual goals though. Things I want to do and achieve. With my life. With loved ones. It’s the truest of truisms that time flies when you are having fun. And a truth universally acknowledged that it goes even faster the older you get.
This was brought very sharply into focus recently when I happened across a blog post from a chap called Tim Urban (www.waitbutwhy.com). A posting he wrote about “life in charts”. When you can see all your life on one chart, it is visually very powerful. When you can cross off the time you have had, and see the remainder, it reminds us that we are not immortal, and don’t in fact have all the time in the world.
Cross off what you have had, it is powerful |
It went something like this, as applied to me. If I am lucky enough to last to the ripe old age of 90, I have 46 years left. I currently see my family maybe once a year on average. If I do nothing to increase that average, I will only get to see them properly again for a maximum of 46 times. I don’t want to consider what this means to the times I get to see my mum, who, barring a miraculous, medical discovery, won’t be around to see me reach my 90th birthday.
This isn’t supposed to be depressing. Rather, a reminder that we should make the most of the time we do have. Use it valuably. Don’t waste time on arguments or petty grudges. Because folks, life really is too short
Setting goals for the year motivates me to make sure I am living my life the way I want to. Filling it with great experiences. So as I look back over the year, at times like these, in the rear view mirror, over my turkey, and pigs in blankets, I do so with satisfaction and not regret.
Looking back over a list I made myself at the start of 2015, I haven’t done too bad. Some items will carry over to this year, but isn’t that the idea? Create an aspirational list, and see where you land. My one perennial item, that always gets carried over is “lose weight”. Not because I want to go on some fad diet, and lose lots of weight. But rather, to maintain the lifestyle I enjoy so much, which includes lots of eating out, and lots of cocktails, then my weight is one thing that keeps me in the gym so many times a week.
Items on my list for last year included:
And then the year had lots of highlights, and lots of firsts
I attended the world’s largest BBQ with my new friends Pam and Roy. I’m convinced that they will still be eating the leftovers. To this very day. I also attended the world’s slowest BBQ (in fact I must point out that Mr Kent did an admirable job on his first occasion of using a behemoth of a gas BBQ. He wasn’t in fact quite as slow as Miss Harper has painted him out to be). If only wee Tom could have been there to see him.
At the age of 43 I went ice skating for the very first time…at Bondi Beach. Yes folks, you read that correctly. Once a year an ice rink gets put up on the promenade overlooking the world famous beach. It was great fun, even if I did resemble a drunk Bambi, trying to keep from falling over, as 5 year olds zoomed past me like Torvill and Dean.
Whale watching made the list of firsts, even though it was the second time I had been out on a trip. This was the first time I had actually seen any whales.
Stand Up Paddle boarding was a first that will definitely be repeated. Despite needing even better balance than when I went ice skating, I surprised myself by being able to stay upright for long periods at a time. I was even upright for a whole 10 minutes at one point.
Despite living in Sydney now for over 3 years, 2015 was the first time I had been to the “Vivid” light show in Sydney. An annual lights extravaganza that has to be seen to be believed. www.vividsydney.com
January saw us welcome our first visitors of the year from the UK. And the first time I had seen a person visibly melt in the sun in front of my eyes, like an ice cream left outside for too long. A day at cricket at Sydney Cricket Ground saw us battling with the heat in ways not usually experienced in Greetland.
Thailand – and a return to Koh Samui after about 15 years. Needless to say the place had changed, and in a good way. We had an excellent time, fueled by cheap beers, pad thai and me discovering piña coladas. How damn good are those bad boys?!
August saw me bring in my 3 year anniversary, and we finally got to have cocktails (about $1m worth!!!) in the Shanghai bar. Known to you and me, and the rest of the world, as the Shangri La hotel. And what a view from the room. The ultimate staycation. Matched by a stay later in the year at the wonderful Ovolo hotel down on finger wharf at Woolloomooloo. Free mini bar, AND free drinks in the bar between 5pm to 7pm. Beat that.
A trip home to the motherland in September, with Ma Cormack returning with us, for her second visit, bringing Helen in tow. This was covered in my last posting. And a holiday back to the wonderful Palm Cove in Far North Queensland over xmas rounded the year off perfectly, before spending NYE down at Sydney Harbour, for a fireworks display that always leaves me breathless.
And so, onto 2016, and all that brings. Hopefully a good one for you, your family, and all your friends.
p.s. another first – the first blog post I have done on my new toy, the gargantuan iPad Pro. I also have the “pencil”, and have started sketching, so I may follow Winston Churchill into painting out the later years of my life.
by Fran 2 Comments
Let’s just get the obvious out of the way. 2020 was not the year we all had planned. Not the year any of us could have predicted. And definitely not the year the world wanted, or needed.
A global pandemic. People’s lives turned upside down. Life plans decimated. Large parts of the world having to suffer through tough lockdown periods. It was unprecedented, the amount of times the word “unprecedented” was rolled out.
But how else to describe the year that was 2020? It truly was an annus horribilis.
And yet…
I hear a lot of tales of positivity as people reflected on the year. People learned to slow down a little. Had time to reconnect with loved ones. Started to appreciate the simple things in life. Walks in nature. Home cooking. I mastered home made scones! Less time commuting to work. For some people, in parts of the world, the commute stopped completely. Work from home became a full time occupation. Dare I say it, the new normal.
Ironically, this brought unexpected consequences. It turns out that people used the commute time to read. Listen to podcasts. Think. It gave a lot of people that elusive white space so often missing in our busy lives.
Suddenly, this time, our time, was lost. The new commute was from the bedroom to the living room. We had no transition from home to office. The home was the office. Many people found themselves working longer. Pausing less. Becoming more sedentary. Missing their old nemesis, the commute, something I wrote about.
But this was all to come. At the start of the year nobody had any inclination of what was ahead. We started 2020 in Mudgee, New South Wales. A quiet weekend in wine country, looking ahead to what was to be an exciting year. Using the first three months of the year to finalise our plans to sell what we could of our possessions, and pack up the rest, and leave Sydney. Embarking on a long term sojourn across the globe.
A plan that was a couple of years in the making, it was suddenly almost upon us. We had talked about which was the best week to resign from our jobs. When to give the notice on our rental apartment. And when to book our first flight into Asia.
As we neared the end of March, we had resigned, and said our goodbyes. We packed up the apartment and moved all our possessions into storage. And we were homeless, staying in a hotel when we found out that Australia was closing the international borders. Like dominoes, other countries followed suit, and suddenly our world became very small.
With no jobs, nowhere to live, and only a backpack, we made a snap decision. I pulled out my phone and booked a couple of seats on a plane leaving for Perth the day after. We were moving to Western Australia (WA), arriving only 2 days before WA closed all the internal borders, effectively creating an island within an island.
This proved to be one of the best decisions we have ever made. At the time of writing, WA has not had a locally transmitted case of COVID for over 9 months. Life, fortunately, has carried on largely as normal. In the first couple of weeks after we arrived, whilst bouncing around Air BnBs, we could only get takeaway food and drinks.
But not long after, life returned, and for the best part of the year we have been enjoying a life not seen much outside of WA. For those not familiar with the size of West Australia, it is 975,000 square miles, with a population of only 2.6 million. That is a lot of space to explore. Not difficult to social distance.
And we have taken as much advantage as we possibly can, exploring lots of this beautiful part of the world. On our doorstep we have the wine country of Swan Valley and the Perth Hills, visiting both. A little under 3 hours away we have the magnificent Margaret River region, where we have already spent numerous long weekends, trying to get around as many of the 200+ vineyards as possible. And we have had staycations in Perth, the vibrant port city of Fremantle, and the beautiful Rottnest Island.
In the early days of our arrival in Perth I naively thought that we would sit out the virus, and be heading off overseas within a couple of months. I filled this time productively, studying for my WSET (Wine and Spirits Education Trust) Level 1 qualification, and also becoming an accredited mental health first aider (MHFA). Very different, but both very fascinating subjects to learn more about.
When I took my head out of the sand, I realised that we were not travelling anywhere anytime soon, and reluctantly found myself a full time job. This provided another example of the best in people. How people rally around and help. There were numerous people, many who didn’t know me, happy to get on the phone with me as I searched for a new role in Perth. I am thankful to each and every one of them for their kindness, help, and support through a difficult time.
The outcome was that I got a 6 month contract. And I was lucky enough to get a renewal for this just before xmas which means that I now have work through to June of this year. Beyond that? I daren’t plan, as the world has shown us about the “best laid plans”, and all that. What does give me hope is the news this week that Qantas have resumed selling international flights from July 1. Definite green shoots that give me cause for optimism,
Both our jobs started out with working from home, but as normality returned, the offices reopened and now we have a happy hybrid of splitting our work week between home and the city. An arrangement that really suits how I like to work.
With work came the need for somewhere longer term to live, and after 6 months in an apartment in East Perth, we found a perfect little cottage in a suburb called Mt Hawthorn. A suburb that is very reminiscent of where we lived in Sydney, which was Mosman. Streets lined with old style cottages. Many bars, cafes (with great coffee) and restaurants. And only 10 minutes into the city for work. We definitely landed on our feet.
For the first time in over a decade I live in a house. We have an actual front door and both a front and back garden. Having always wanted a couple of Adirondack chairs, they now sit pride of place in the back garden, close enough to the BBQ so I can quickly flip my steaks when needed. A small table between the two chairs completes this idyllic picture, holding our glasses of wine. A covered patio area is where our new bicycles live.
And we finally transported all our belongings from storage in Sydney, bringing to an end the “living out of a backpack” phase of our Perth adventure.
Perth is very bike friendly, being largely flat, and having a great network of bike paths. Weekends we can head off towards the Swan River with a picnic of egg mayonnaise sandwiches, a couple of pork pies, and a bottle of wine. Does life get any better than that?
So, whilst we have all lived through a crazy year, we have been very fortunate to have spent it here in WA.
Even in crazy years, where events are not what we expected, a lot of the time it is how we respond to the events. As the saying goes, “when life gives you lemons.”
I started the year, fully expecting to be a full time nomad, embracing my love of travel writing. I set a lofty ambition to get at least one travel article published. With overseas travel off the cards, I switched my focus to get at least one piece of writing published.
And I was very pleased to win second prize in a freelance writing contest, with a short story about the future of work. I won $350, which was beyond anything I expected. This gave me great confidence in my writing and as we enter 2021, my focus switches back to getting a travel article published.
On the professional front, I finally got my coaching journey started. September saw me joining a great bunch of leaders from across Asia as we embarked on a virtual 3 day training course by the Institute of Executive Coaching and Leadership. With the follow on activities completed, and a successful assignment, I became a certified coach at the start of November. I enjoy this work so much that I have already enrolled in Level 2, starting in March.
Our regular pilates and yoga practice has taken a back seat since we relocated to Perth. With everything that has been going on we just haven’t got around to joining a new studio. Typical of the world we now live in, I have been checking out virtual alternatives. I would love to hear of any recommendations that you have. Of the ones I have looked at so far, “Glo” seems to get the best reviews. Are there any others that you recommend?
I am not one for making new year’s resolutions, but do look ahead to the year and consider both what changes I want to make, and what I would like to achieve. And as with every year, I start this one wanting to shed a little of the xmas weight. We have just had an epic 2 week road trip up the west coast of Australia, and I ate and drank everything in sight. The body will get a shock as I lock the booze cabinet, hide the chocolates, and get back on the treadmill.
This year I also hope that we can finally fly overseas and start our travelling. We are not making any plans for this, at the moment, other than continuing to save money. I have a natural reflection point as my current work contract expires in June. This will give the opportunity to assess the state of the world, the success of the various vaccines, and the likelihood of us being able to travel through countries without being quarantined anywhere.
Last, but certainly not least, this is the year I leave my 40s and enter my 50s. Quite a milestone, I am sure you will agree. And for a few years I have been putting some pennies aside for the big occasion. The “plan” is to travel on the Eastern & Oriental Express. 3 days of luxury, travelling the rails between Singapore and Bangkok. With all the Belmond Orient Express journeys currently paused, it is hard to say when this will happen. But I remain committed to it being a “when”, and not an “if”.
Putting the spectre of 2020 behind us, what are you hoping for in 2021?
by Fran 3 Comments
I have always envied those people who seem to instinctively know what they “want to be when they grow up”. The ones who from a very early age know the direction they want to head. They have identified that they will follow a professional path. Perhaps be a vet. Or a doctor. Lawyers and teachers always seemed to be a popular choice. Bizarrely, some also thought that looking deep in the recesses of peoples mouths, extracting rotting teeth was something they could see themselves doing 5 days a week, for the rest of their working lives.
And then there were the more creative types. Aspiring painters, chefs, and dancers. Kids who would relish the visits to museums. Spend hours looking at paintings and getting inspired. Maybe you were in class with a poet. Someone who just knew they would spend their life writing, regardless of how much (or how little) future income this would guarantee them. They would be a tortured artist. Living for their art. Their creations. And not fall prey prey to the whims of the materialistic, capitalistic society they were growing up in.
This left a third group. The group that I have always been in. Sitting here, the wrong side of my 40s, still trying to work out what I want to be when (if) I grow up. When I left school, and started work, it was still in the days of “get a good job in an office and you will be set for life.” Toil every day, for 40 years, and you will be rewarded at retirement with a gold clock and a pension.
So, this is what I did. Starting at the local building society. And for many years, this worked for me. I enjoyed life. I had an income that allowed me to buy my first car, a light brown T reg Ford Escort MKII (which will mean absolutely nothing to younger readers.) I loved that car. And we had many adventures together until I started feeling the first pull of the material world we live in, and I decided I needed a better car. Whether it was better or not is debatable as I traded the characterful Ford Escort for a banana yellow Mini Metro. For this, I lay most of the blame at my late father’s door. Receiving a phone call at the local snooker club.
“Son, I have found a beauty of a car for you. Let’s go to Dews garage in Brighouse and I will show you.”
He was so excited with his find that I was too polite to say that driving a banana around town would be bad for my street cred. And to be fair, I did grow to love that car too.
Anyway, I digress. Having a sensible job allowed me these freedoms. And I did move around different departments over the years so it was always interesting. Until it wasn’t. Or at least, until I discovered that there was a world outside Yorkshire. I know. Imagine! And on one life changing lunch break, myself and a colleague, who has become a lifelong friend, asked each other, “should we go travelling?”
This was my entry into long term travel, and I have been addicted ever since. That first year spent backpacking around Australia ensured that I would have permanent wanderlust, and always yearn to be having new adventures.
Work has allowed me to continue travelling, and I have seen some beautiful parts of the world. But, I have always felt that I have had to make a Faustian pact to continue my travels. Selling my soul to the corporate monster to fund my adventures. Being cooped up in an office all day. Attending meetings that could well have been an email. Dealing with office politics. All so that I could receive my next pay packet, and plan my next trip.
Over the years I have fallen into new careers. Often quite by accident, rather than design. Thanks to a friend taking a chance on me at 30, I got a break in IT, as a trainee. A little old to be a trainee, people thought. But this was a stepping stone to what eventually became a very successful career as an IT Project Manager.
Much later in life, working as a contract Project Manager with a client who brought in an outside consultancy was my introduction to something strange called “agile”, and subsequently a new career as a coach and consultant. Working with organisations and teams in improving how they work together and the cultures they work in.
And yet, as much as I enjoy my current career, working with people, I still yearn to do something I am truly passionate about, that would also allow me the means to travel.
After 30 years of work, my priorities have shifted. The work itself is less important to me. The lifestyle I want to lead is the priority. A lifestyle that affords more time for my creative outlets, and for enjoying what I feel is truly important in life, which is time with loved ones. Time alone for reflection. Time outdoors to savour this beautiful world we live in.
I don’t know what the autumn of my career will look like. I imagine putting together a portfolio of interests. Each with a small income stream. Whichever path I take I will probably still be searching for the elusive answer to “what do I want to be when I grow up”.
If the change in temperature in Milan slowly crept up on us, when we arrived in Switzerland it hit us like a stone. We were going to have to get creative with the few clothes we have squeezed into our bags. Thankfully, we did pack rain jackets, as when we left the airport in Basel it was raining.
Arriving in Basel is a strange experience. As you will know, Basel is in Switzerland. Yet, the airport is actually in France. This threw me into a momentary panic when I was checking out how to get from the airport to downtown Basel. I hadn’t expected to have to find my way from France.
Leaving the airport, is another novel experience. After collecting our bags from the luggage carousel we searched for the exit signs. And there were a couple of options. We could exit into France. Or into Switzerland. Are there any other airports in the world with this scenario? We were later to discover, and visit, a place up the river in Basel where the borders of Switzerland, Germany, and France all converge. Never had I been so close to three countries, all at the same time.
Back at the airport, we left through the Swiss exit and after a short wait we were on a bus headed into the city of Basel. Whilst in the Schengen zone, Switzerland maintains its own currency, the Swiss Franc (CHF). Why “CHF” you ask? I asked myself the same question and a bit of research taught me that CH is the official domination of Switzerland. CH, standing for Confœderatio Helvetica, the offical name of Switzerland. This also explained the numerous CH stickers on Swiss cars.
A transfer to a tram and we arrived at our hotel just before 10pm. The latest we have arrived at one of our destinations. The downside of budget air travel. The upside was that we could spend a little more on our accommodation. Our hotel had a fridge. So salubrious. And a mini bar that was complementary. Quite why that fridge would only have one beer is beyond me, but I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
It was at this point that I observed what I at first found odd, and have since found out is very common across European countries. The single duvets (two of them) on a double bed. I have since come to realise it happens everywhere, and I like it. Snuggle up in your own little cocoon and don’t be disturbed by your partner’s nocturnal duvet hogging.
Wandering around Basel was a great introduction to Switzerland. So scenic, with an old town that hasn’t changed for centuries. Meandering through the narrow streets, marvelling at the houses, with a growing sense of excitement as we noticed all the xmas decorations, and large xmas trees all over the city. The xmas markets had arrived in force in Switzerland and it wasn’t long before we were having our first gluhwein of the season. Served in festive mugs, the mulled wine was delicious, sat outside a little cafe, on sheepskin rugs to keep our bottoms warm.
Our “cost of living” indicator had changed from spaghetti carbonara to a wiener schnitzel. A “schnitty” is a classic pub dish in Australia, a particular favourite of ours. The schnitzel hails from this part of the world, next door in Austria, and were to use it to see how expensive places were. Our first evening I had a posh schnitzel. The Cordon Bleu. A schnitzel wrapped around ham and melting cheese. Delicious. And pricey in Switzerland, as we were to learn everything is.
Some things are worth paying for. And regardless of cost, we were on the hunt for our first Swiss hot chocolate. And, we found it. Thick, creamy, and steaming hot. Served with a chocolate on the side, Victoria had a smile that could have lit up the city. Happy wife, happy life, or so they say.
After a couple of days it was time to hit the road again. We had a train booked to Bern and after securing a hotel, my next job was to find a bar showing the England vs Iran football match.
Switzerland has no official capital, but Bern is one of the three that commonly gets recognised. Walking from our hotel, over the water and past the bear pit…wait, bear pit? Yup, it turns out that Bern has its very own bear pit with a connection to bears that stretches all the way back to the city receiving its name.
Legend has it that Berchtold V, Duke of Zähringen, the founder of the City of Bern, vowed to name the city after the first animal he met on the hunt. This explains the preponderence of bears on the city flag of Bern, and the many statues of them across this beautiful city. It was just a shame that it was the time of the year that the bears hibernate.
I also discovered that Einstein lived a few years in Bern. Passing the apartment he lived in I discovered that it was in Bern that he developed some of his theories that were to change the world, and how we saw physics. The great man is commenorated by a museum in his old apartment and with various statues across the city.
You don’t have to be Einstein to work out how great Bern is. Once again I am left asking myself why we have never visited Switzerland before. Picture postcard perfect. I must pass on my gratitude to Victoria. We were originally going to travel straight from Basel to Zurich. Left to research the options, Victoria got looking at other places in Switzerland that we could visit on the way to Zurich. And so we found ourselves exploring a lot more of this beautiful country than we expected.
I even managed to find a bar to watch the football in, and we were the only ones in there for a while, until a couple of the bar owner’s friends joined us. This suited us fine as we quaffed cold Swiss lager and watched England make light work of Iran.
Tomorrow, we head to Interlaken, and I will be sure to share what we discover.