We’re having to get extra stuff done today. We have declared next Wednesday ‘photo day’, where we will take photographs of our Alojamento Local rental property and put it onto booking sites.
But there’s still a bit to do such as varnish and put up the furniture, sort out the decorative side of it and touch up any scuffs and scratches. There’s a stack of paperwork that needs doing too.
But tomorrow we aren’t able to do any of this due to A New Life In The Sun arriving for the ‘lifestyle’ shoot. This is the day Lou and I get to hold hands and skip along the beach while the kids splash in the river surrounded by a picturesque mountainous backdrop while being filmed for TV.
So far they’ve just filmed us clearing the forest, doing building work and generally getting stressed about timelines and budgets. So tomorrow will be nice to see a different side to us and the meaning of our move to Portugal. We want to work hard and be successful, but our family and quality of life is important to us and getting a reminder of that with occasions by a river beach or at a lively festa is integral to that.
But we’re obsessed with making this whole move work. Which means working harder than we’ve ever had to work, mostly done in heat I’ve never encountered before. If we want to enjoy more days at the river beach, then making the business a success is vital. The master plan unravels without it. And Ralph Waldo Emerson was spot on when he said,”Always do what you are afraid to do.”
Being afraid keeps me hungry. Less complacent.
So anyway, I’ll leave you with a few pics from today. It’s not the finished photos for the booking sites, of course, but it is starting to take shape!
Yesterday was a productive day. We got stuff done. And it was important that we did as the kids were at the coast with a holiday club which meant that we had more hours in the day to complete tasks. But it did come at a price.
When the evening came and the kids were in bed we simply had nothing else to give to each other. We worked through very hot temperatures and met appointments in town to get relevant licences filed which meant that we were knackered both physically and mentally. At one point Lou mentioned that we were like Challenge Aneka as she put a coat of paint on here, spreading compost there and signing documents to be emailed.
The Challenge Aneka analogy is very accurate. We have a deadline, we are being followed by a camera person and I look good in lycra and a blonde wig.
Ok, forget the last one. But the others are true.
Anika Rice
The last couple of hours of the day, however, was a case of us silently watching Superstore on Netflix and not communicating with each other. Talking, it seemed, had become too difficult to do. One after the other the episodes of Superstore turned into seasons. Each one becoming not as good as the previous series. ‘No wonder they cancelled it’, I thought to myself. I wanted to say that to Lou, but the words didn’t come out.
Me in lycra
We’re not unique. This is a trap that we sometimes fall into just like many of my trainees. We can lose track of the important stuff. We try to juggle too much, often worrying about the little things. We forget about prioritising and we end up spinning plates only to see them all crash to the floor.
Our particular plates, albeit wavering rather than spinning at full throttle, haven’t quite crashed. But if we don’t address it quickly, we will find ourselves in a rut of simply existing and not living the life that we want.
So as productive as yesterday was, our relationship and our personal mental health suffered. Today we needed to strike a balance. We decided on a mind map.
We all plan differently. For me, I like to write down what I need to do. Whether it be for the day ahead, for over the weekend or for the full week. It’s the personal trainer in me. I’ve written thousands of training plans that require following a plan. I’ve always remained flexible with my plans, after all, stuff happens. Life happens. But generally, the very fact that I have a written plan of action that I can attempt to execute lowers my anxiety and, most importantly, enables me to methodically work my way through the plan.
Trainees didn’t just come to me in the gym to help with their clean and press. There is often an underlying issue in why they seem to struggle in reaching a particular goal.
Likewise, I don’t need help in how to paint, treat wood, mix cement or plaster. But I found that I do need help in how to juggle my time and plan when to do this while simultaneously being a fun loving father and husband.
So this morning we didn’t get stuck into the painting, grouting and fixing. We spent the first hour mind mapping.
We scheduled what needed to be done. We gave timelines to each activity. We organised the day onto paper, ticking off each one as we completed it. We even made sure that one of these activities was to take a trip into Sertá for lunch together. We don’t always want our leisure time to be written into our list of jobs for the day but if life gets a little on top of us now and again then why not?! It is important to recognise these things.
Author Alan Lakein wrote,”Planning is bringing the future into the present so that you can do something about it now.”
We can’t achieve anything without planning, however one chooses to do it. After all, if you don’t plan which way the wind is blowing, you could end up pissing into it. It gets messy.
Mind planning got us another productive day today, but it also got us some important time together where we could chat and enjoy each other’s company and not just drift through day to day, barely having conversation. After all, we won’t achieve our family goals if we can’t survive as a family. No matter how good I am at painting.
I remember taking a penalty kick for my school football team and the pressure was unreal. A few parents and a man and his dog stood on the touchline as I put the ball on the penalty spot. The weight of the team’s expectations felt heavy on my shoulders. I missed. I wasn’t a natural goalscorer, but I tried.
Other moments of notable sporting anxiety was when I did my first ever ‘fat loss’ class as an instructor at the gym. 30 people stood waiting for my instructions as I waited for the music to kick in. For all of my knowledge and everything I had learnt in instructing a fitness class, I could hardly remember any exercise except for a squat. Nerves are great, it gives me that buzz, but sometimes if they are out of control it doesn’t help for clear thinking.
I also recall my first day at coaching 20 kids on their summer sports activities. I wasn’t a natural like some of the other coaches, but I knew from experience of being a dad that if you demand respect and make something fun and act a bit silly, a bunch of kids will love whatever activity you do. In fact, come to think about it the adults in my exercise class were exactly the same. I wasn’t the coolest, fittest, leanest or strongest instructor, but it’s amazing how far a few dad jokes will get you with kids or adults. We all just want to smile at the end of the day and, whatever is going on at home outside of the gym or summer camp, we remember the moments that we smiled to get us through it.
As I was reflecting on my year so far I began to realise that I seem to excel when I start to feel the adrenaline. I’m at my happiest. It doesn’t always mean that I’ll be the best at something. The penalty kick and my first ever fitness class are examples of that. But had I not put myself forward for these things, or to put it another way, had I not been willing to come out of my comfort zone, then great things would not have followed.
I couldn’t have been a successful personal trainer without that first ever fitness class and I wouldn’t have enjoyed a few seasons at the kids summer sports camp without that awkward first day. Even the missed penalty showed that I was willing to stand up and be a leader. It didn’t do Stuart Pearce or Gareth Southgate any harm.
This year I’ve been interviewed for UK TV about my recent move to Portugal. It will be available to watch in January. You might see that I’m not a natural in front of the camera. And I’ve often been asked about what motivated me to apply to be filmed during such a massive move for me and my family. They don’t pay us for making the show, so it wasn’t money. And the days that they are here can be time consuming as we set up the microphones for interviews. So why do it?! Well, it’s the adrenaline thing again. I work best under pressure. I’m happy to be filmed being challenged with budget difficulties, language barriers and building works. I have to step up and take that penalty again or enter that fitness studio for the first time. It can only improve my character.
Years ago I was talking to a friend who was having difficulty finding employment. He was a hard worker and desperate for work. He told me that he had had many interviews but never got accepted. The main reason for this is that he would clam up and be extremely shy in the interview. I know that he was shy and he found it difficult to hide. Even talking to friends he would sometimes go very red in the face.
My advice to him was to let the interviewers know as soon as you sit down. Explain that, ‘I am very nervous today so please forgive me. I’ll take a deep breath and do my best.’
This will put you and the interviewers at ease and it will also show self awareness, honesty and determination to get past it. He got his next job that he applied for.
Being honest with yourself and those around you is important. If you can enter difficult situations with transparency then the confidence will grow and important skills can be had. But without that first honest step out of your comfort zone then you are not allowing yourself to grow.
Actress Jessica Williams said,”Get more confidence by doing things that excite and frighten you.”
Despite an easier VISA process to live in Portugal from the UK there were many factors why Portugal began to be a very attractive country to live in.
There were hours and hours of research done by my wife and I to discover the cost of living, how good the education system was, we wanted to know more about the crime rates, the policing, the government structure and the tax system. We especially wanted to know what the quality of life could be expected for our young children. What is Portugal like to grow up in and to become young adults?
And yes, Rishi, we wanted to know if National Service existed in Portugal. It doesn’t. That was important to us. You see, my idea of a country expecting their young citizens to serve mandatory time in the armed forces strikes me as a country with a social problem often brought about by a lack of funding to those who need it the most and, crucially, who the wider society depends on. The youth. They are, after all, the ones who will be taking that particular country forward. Therefore we need to create well rounded young people with opportunities to develop.
Yes, the armed forces can get a great opportunity to learn many skills, but only if that person wishes to enrol in the first place.
So, after our conclusion that Portugal, albeit not perfect (which country is?!) gave us good vibes, we decided to move there.
One thing that caught my attention during my research was Portugal’s drug laws. Since 2001, drugs have been decriminalised. This includes cocaine and heroin. It was the first to do so in the EU. So although it is an offence to carry drugs it is not punishable by imprisonment, it does not result in a criminal record or lead to associated stigmas which may affect the ability to find work.
Instead, drug abusers are treated as patients instead of criminals. Those who remain clean from drug use are given incentives to reconnect with society. The government set up job creation schemes and loans for small businesses, directly intended for an individual to focus on getting their lives back on track and away from drug use.
Portugal had one of the highest number of drug related HIV cases in Europe prior to 2000. It has seen a reduction in new HIV cases by 17%.
Portugal’s drug related death toll is 3 people per million compared to the EU average of almost 18 per million people.
The street value of these illicit drugs massively decreased. Courts and prisons became less crowded. The number of adolescents using drugs declined. All because the government at the time decided to invest in tackling the problem.
A series of experiments were conducted in the early 20th century where they would put a rat in a cage with two water bottles. One was water and the other was water laced with heroin. Almost every rat would keep going back to the water laced with heroin where it would eventually overdose and die.
Then came along a professor in psychology, Bruce Alexander who noticed that, if the rat had nothing to do other than choose from these two bottles then maybe it is an unfair experiment. So he set up a Rat Park. As well as the two bottles, he introduced several rats into a cage so that they could play together, have sex and interact. He placed tunnels into the cages, food and climbing frames.
Professor Alexander
Professor Alexander noticed that the rats hardly ever went to the drugged water. It didn’t interest them. It went from 100% overdose when they were isolated and 0% when they had happy and connected lives.
What if addiction isn’t about our chemical hooks but instead about our cage?
If we can surround ourselves with a supportive network of people, be excited by a safe and happy future, eat well, exercise, laugh, love and play, then surely our cage is worth staying around for. And the need for turning to the drugged water is less attractive.
And I can say with some experience that it is only when I found a purpose to my life did I stop routinely taking cocaine, ecstasy and steroids.
Much like the rats in the Rat Park I found friendship, pathways, exercise and reasons to live. I also found Blair’s New Deal which got me off of my arse to learn a trade. I gained NVQ level 2 qualifications in bricklaying and construction for £50 a week. Not bad at the time.
Maybe if we change our cage, we can all find happiness. And with upcoming elections in the UK looming, its citizens have an opportunity to vote for who will help them find their cage.
Just before I left the UK for Portugal I spoke to many younger people who were intrigued about my move. And come to think about it, these younger people were the ones who asked me why I moved to Scarborough from Leeds.
“Why would you want to leave Leeds for Scarborough?!” They scoffed.
My answer was ‘to live’. By that I mean that ‘to live’ to me means to experience as much as possible out of this relatively short existence. I wanted to wake up by the sea. I wanted my children to go to a smaller school. I wanted to test myself as a PT in a new gym. I wanted to feel the nostalgia of saving up my 2p coins and putting them in the slot machines at the arcades like I did as a kid. I wanted new challenges.
That, to me, is living.
Now, I never expected to live my entire life in the UK, it’s just that the 2016 referendum gave me the kick up the arse to do something about it. I didn’t want to live in a country where people wanted to stand still and, in doing so, not allow others to move where they wanted to either. The Freedom Of Movement is one of the greatest privileges the EU citizens could have.
I didn’t travel when I was younger. But when the younger people at the gym asked me about my move to Portugal I urged them to do the same while they were young. Not necessarily to make a permanent move, but to travel. Discover new cultures, try different foods, learn new languages and skills.
Heck! This isn’t just about younger people either. It’s just in my experience, deciding to live in a different country is a lot more difficult when you have two little kids.
I don’t know how many of my readers are aware of the chef and travel documentary maker Anthony Bourdain. His travel series, Parts Unknown, are available on YouTube. Unfortunately he passed away in 2018 but he has made a lasting impression on me.
I’ll leave you with one of his quotes that has stuck with me.
“If you’re young, physically fit, hungry to learn and be better, I urge you to travel – as far and as wide as possible. Sleep on floors if you have to. Find out how other people live, eat and cook. Learn from them – wherever you go.”
And I have a feeling that, wherever he is, Tony is still travelling somewhere.
Seeing as I am writing a post all about a lemon, you could be forgiven for thinking that I would take this opportunity to bring up the ‘when life gives you lemons, make lemonade’ quote.
But you would be wrong.
You might think, seeing as I entitled this blog Lemon, that I will draw similarities with how squeezing a lemon is like squeezing the most out of each day, giving you that zest for life.
And again you would be wrong.
You could, however, be entitled to believe that I am going to give you a string of health benefits from eating this versatile fruit such as helping your body absorb more iron, it is rich in vitamin C and the citric acid can help to prevent the formation of kidney stones.
But, no, your incline would be wrong.
So it is totally feasible for you to think, then, that this article must be about how lemons are also very useful as a natural cleaner, as the citric acid can kill bacteria.
But, guess what? You’d be wrong again.
No. This post is simply dedicated to the biggest, kick ass beast of a lemon that I have ever seen! Thanks to the lemon tree in our garden, we are growing some mahoosive lemons to try to cram into our gin and tonic glasses.
‘There is a hidden message in every waterfall. It says if you are flexible, falling will not hurt you.’ Mehmet Murat Ildan.
As a child and then into my adult life I often felt a sadness that I could not explain. It was deep rooted, as if nothing could ever make me feel settled or comfortable within myself. I longed for something to truly make me happy.
The Portuguese have a term for this which is ‘saudade’. There is no direct translation into English for this word.
But I must explain more clearly. I have had some wonderful experiences in my life. Some things that have given me great memories that I will treasure. My childhood home was a stable, happy home. My early adult life had its turbulence, I suppose, like for most young people but I kept jobs, got promotions, had healthy relationships, studied and learnt new things. As I got older I met my future wife, became a father, bought and sold houses and began new career ventures. And now we live in Portugal with the hope of a bright, exciting future. All of these things have helped me to be happy. But, especially in my earlier life, that sadness in the pit of my core would not vanish completely. It was like a whoosh of anxiety that really felt like a black cloud hanging over me.
In recent years I have discovered ways to help me feel differently. To take away those anxieties.
Exercise and weight training became my release. Damaging muscle fibres in order for them to regenerate was a whole lot better way of self harm than that which had run through my youthful self. And that’s what it felt like. I wanted to punish myself and my body. There were times that I was disgusted at looking at myself in the mirror. Lifting something heavy several times and feeling pain gave me some sort of release.
Then, in later life, as well as keeping an exercise training routine (but a much more positive one these days), I began to meditate. This has enabled me to control my breathing from the core and, knowing that this is where the whooshy anxiety comes from, really helps me to address it from deep within.
Staring At The Waterfall
There’s this image that I had, and seemingly many other people have, that meditation is about sitting cross legged, eyes closed and hands in a certain pose. It is often associated with Buddhism or other religious practices. And there is also this perception of meditation being done in a dark quiet room, perhaps accompanied with chimes or flute music.
Whilst all of these can be done during meditating, it is certainly not my usual go-to style. Today, I stood by a waterfall. I was with my family, so the kids were their usual rowdy selves. It didn’t deter me. For a few moments, I was mesmerized by the sight, sounds and the smells of this waterfall. Every drop of water danced differently to the next. Each sound I captured went from a trickle to a splash. The smell felt fresh, sometimes the scent of a sandy beach caught my attention.
I said that I was mesmorized for a few moments. The truth is it could’ve been just ten seconds or it could have been minutes. I’m not sure. But I soon became aware of the kids strangling each other so I sorted that little issue out before taking a few pictures!
Over the past few years as I have pursued this journey of self enlightenment I have learnt one big lesson. I need to be flexible in nurturing my emotions. Sometimes I trickle. Sometimes I splash. There’s no right or wrong way.
I now know that this deep rooted sadness cannot harm me. I can live for the moment, whether I’m trickling or splashing, and be grateful and happy with my life.
Today I felt like I was the waterfall. And we could argue on whether or not looking at a waterfall is actually meditation, but my conclusion would be that if you have to think about this then you are losing the magic of the moment. Call it what you like. As long as we can take a moment to realise the beauty in something that we might otherwise take for granted. A singing bird. The rustling of a tree. Or a waterfall.
I’ve discovered that it is not what I look at that matters, it is what I see (or hear, touch and smell). I can look at a waterfall that I pass most days, but what I see when I actually take that moment is a work of beauty, history, a creation that tells me a story. It speaks to me.
So my flexibility of thought has enabled me to see, not just look. And maybe I will pass this waterfall a dozen times again and look at it, but I know that when I need to, I will actually see it.
Everyone gets a different feeling when they see and hear thunder and lightning. Some people, like my wife, have a warm fuzzy feeling that reminds her of childhood looking out of her bedroom window on a stormy night.
Some people are scared of the noise and the flashes of light like my eldest son.
Thunder and lightning can bring out all sorts of different kinds of emotions. The practical side of me gets disappointed that I can’t get the stuff done outdoors that I need to get done. The relaxed side of me just wants to find a box set and chill out until the storm passes.
I’ve even heard of people stripping off naked and dancing in it. I’ll stick to Netflix.
Today is a thunderstorm, bringing with it sheet lightning and hail stones. The rumbles of thunder are almost constant. It is majestic. I feel a bit like my wife as I gaze out of the window watching its wonder. But I can’t deny that there’s a little bit of my brain that agrees with my son. What if our house falls down?! The thunderstorm is beautiful, but so is my 100 year old Portuguese house that might not appreciate being shaken.
That’s how it feels as the thunder rumbles on. I can feel the vibration below me. But although the house is old, it comforts me to know that it has survived a 100 years of thunderstorms. It’s a solid structure and will survive another 100 years I’m sure.
‘Yesterday we were in the pool trying to cool down!’ I told our builder. ‘Welcome to Portugal!’ he laughed.
There’s rain, thunderstorms and sunshine in the UK, but here in Portugal the weather is on steroids.
A quote from The Minds Journal says…
Why do you like thunderstorms? Because it shows that even nature needs to scream sometimes.
The science behind a thunderstorm is a little more complex, but I quite like to think that nature is just having a moment, like we all do sometimes.
I once wanted to go on Dragons Den with an invention that allowed busy people (I imagined the city centre of Leeds at the time) to enter a pod so that they could scream, shout and swear without being heard or causing a scene. They could then calmly walk out and continue with their day a bit less stressed. ‘The Screaming Pod’, I announced to Lou one day. ‘I would call it The Screaming Pod!’
I think somewhere in Japan beat me to that invention though. And anyway, Wetherspoons has had a similar concept for decades already.
As I look again out of the window my thoughts turn to the newly sowed grass seed. ‘They need a bit of rain’, I think to myself. And then I realise what just ran through my head and remember that I’m getting old. Between the lawn being a priority these days, groaning every time I stand up and Lou having to point out the food that’s missed my mouth and instead dribbles down my chin, I know that I am getting old.
I jest, of course. 45 isn’t old. But I do think that I have reached an age where I can ‘feel old’ once in a while. I’m entitled to dribble now and again, right?
Ah, there I go again, wittering on about my time in Wetherspoons.
Lou has just reminded me that we still don’t have any doors and windows to the AL rental house, so my next job is to find some plaster board to protect the flooring from the rain. So I’d best sign off for now and get piss wet through in the rain while nature has a scream.
Seeing flyers around the town of Sertá for salsa dancing makes me want Lou and I to book a session for one evening. Unfortunately, with two young children, we aren’t able to get out of an evening just the two of us. And I can just imagine, if we were to take them along and asked them to sit quietly for a couple of hours as they watched their dad shake his hips towards their mum, they would never speak to me again.
But the thought of salsa dancing does bring back memories of our honeymoon in Cuba. We were at a club watching the professionals on the dancefloor. They were all in traditional dress and it was amazing to watch. Little did I know that, during the interval, Lou had asked one of the ladies to whisk me off my feet to join in with their performance.
Perhaps Lou expected me to modestly follow the dancer, embarrassed at the hundreds of watching eyes, and sheepishly tap my feet like a teenager at a school disco. No. I didn’t. The rum and coke was strong that night.
What happened next was a blur. According to my account, I blew them away with my ‘living la Vida loca’ moves. In reality, the bald man with the trucker tattoos probably looked more like Ricky Gervais from the Office than Ricky Martin.
Overnight, in a small corner of Cuba, I had become famous. Other holiday makers and locals would all approach me, shake my hand, and congratulate me on my performance. Maybe the word is infamous. I dunno.
I like dancing. I move uncontrollably rather than have any decent choreography. Growing up listening to Oasis probably didn’t help my dancefloor moves. During the 90’s I would enter the nightclub like Liam Gallagher. Hands clasped behind my back, I would slightly lean forwards as if I were stooping for a microphone. By the end of the night I’d be a backing dancer for Take That, shirt ripped open singing Relight My Fire.
Youth eh? I don’t miss it. But older age certainly has its challenges. Just like my parents will have gasped at the lyrics of Marylin Manson coming from my bedroom we now have the same issue with Doja Cat lyrics. My kids love the Paint The Town Red song and Portuguese radio is very different to UK radio. They don’t blank out any of the swearing. Instead of listening to Paul Gambuccini’s pick of the pops from 1983 we’re listening to Doja Cat effing and jeffing.
Perhaps my biggest memories of dancing are well in the past. Or maybe as the kids get older and Lou and I are able to begin a class, my best dancing memories are yet to come. I just hope, by then, my hips do lie.
Social media would have you believe that you need to be ready for the catwalk or the front cover of Men’s Health magazine to be successful in the gym.
I also believe that we can get anxious when we see other people’s Instagram posts of them on holidays in some wintery wonderland to visit Santa, sat by a pool in an exotic location or having their picture taken with Mickey Mouse. I’ve done it myself. After seeing someone’s snaps of them and their children in Lapland I suddenly felt inadequate that I wasn’t taking my kids to see Santa in his homeland. I then checked the price of such a holiday and quickly clicked on to Wish to buy a Santa costume. The kids won’t know the difference.
But it isn’t the fault of the parents who put the photos on Instagram. They just want to show their social media friends what a great time they’re having. We rarely see ‘influencers’ taking a selfie on the days they’re feeling bloated and our Facebook friends are not as quick to post the videos where their kids are having a tantrum. No. We all prefer to show the world our best side.
And I am conscious about what I post online, especially since our move to Portugal. When I first mentioned that we were moving to Portugal, most of our friends and family would be like ‘ooh! I don’t blame you with all that sunshine’ or stuff to that effect. Throughout winter I’ve posted pictures of us dining out, in swimming pools and even having a BBQ on Christmas day. The weather, albeit not our greatest motivation for making the move, can be lovely.
But already this week in March we have had to shelter from the heat. Even the Portuguese builders were happy to find jobs to do that were in the shade during the hottest parts of the day. We are beginning to understand the need for siestas. This is where shops and cafes close for a few hours, usually around 2 until 5. People start to pull shutters down on their windows and the streets and roads empty.
As a Brit who hasn’t had this issue before, however, it can be frustrating. We need the builders to get the job done, we need builders merchants to be open for supplies and Lou and I have 20,000 square metres of land to clean before the summer. And even the amount of land would bring about comments on ‘how lovely for the kids’ it is to have so much land. It is, absolutely we will make it wonderful for us and our guests. But at the moment it is a tinder box waiting for the spark. We don’t want a few hours break in the afternoon. Daytime is when we have always got stuff done, while the kids are at school! It’s irritating, but we will have to change. Coming into spring and with summer just around the corner. We’ll need to find different moments in the day where we can work outside. One way or another we need to get it done. Time, as we are discovering, is money.
So in true form, I won’t be posting a picture of Lou and I panicking about the budget of our project. Instead I’m showing you our homemade irrigation system for our vegetable patch. The veg patch is an old chicken coup and, although we discussed having chickens in the future, we decided to use it to grow vegetables for now instead. When we moved into the property there were lots of useful hosepipes hanging around the place and several water taps and bore holes. Cutting a length of pipe and drilling holes into it has provided much needed water for our lettuce.
By the end of the day, and I guess the whole point of this blog, as we sat in the (slightly) cooler evening we talked about how satisfying it was to be creative and, most importantly, to do it together. That might sound silly. After all, we haven’t gone our separate ways to go to work etc for the past 6 months. Lou and I have done everything together. But writing a business plan, filling out VISA forms or putting furniture together isn’t as rewarding as planting some lettuce and providing them with water.
It’s part of our dream. The vision. It’s what we talked about almost every evening in the UK. The sort of veg we would grow and how self sufficient we could become is part of the package on this journey. It’s important to us. And, yes, so are the VISA forms and the flat packed book shelf, but that doesn’t excite us.
I make no apologies for showing you my punctured bit of hose pipe. For now, that’s my Lapland. It’s the ‘look at me with Mickey Mouse in Disneyland’ moment. So the next time I see the lovely pics of tinterweb friends and influencers on social media, I’ll remember my great moment making our irrigation system. Sometimes it’s just the little things.
Never Give Up PT 