So here we are in a Premier Inn at Manchester Airport, due to fly out to our new country of residence tomorrow, Canada. We were dropped off at the hotel by my parents, who after a drink fled in tears, so it is now official, we are bad people. I maybe expected a tear or two from mum, but if you see your dad break down in tears then a vigorous shower is required to wash away the shame.
My wife Sacha has won the battle for the hotel room television, not that an England Vs Denmark friendly football match promised to be a classic spectacle. So Sacha is camped out on the bed watching ‘One Born Every Second’, or some such broadcasting treasure, and I am perched on a twirly chair in front of a small desk staring out onto a frosty car park with the radio commentary of the football blaring in my ears.
It is at this moment I am remembering my friends’ suggestion to Sacha, as we were saying our emotional “bye byes” the previous weekend (hi Emma and Laura btw), they had suggested to her that she could write a blog about her exciting travels. Well it crossed my mind that homework may not appeal to her, but the idea of a little project for myself resonated positively. So here I am doing a blog, or being a blogger or bloggering, whatever the verb is. So our friend Emma had actually messaged Sacha a load of blogging information after making the suggestion, so of course I intercepted that in order to learn what the term involved. Well here is what I learnt;
1. Keep things short to keep people’s attention. Already a problem looming on this horizon I see.
2. Some people post entries to their blogs everyday in order to stay popular with the other bloggerers. Sheesh, that sounds needy, plus people are lucky to get a reply to a text message in a day off me, let alone a blog update. I shall aim for ‘once in a while.’
3. Other people will read your blog so do not be boring. Ok.
Why Am I Bloggering?
Well it was almost a year to the day when my trusty grey Vauxhall Corsa’s timing belt went ‘snap’ as I commuted home from work one cold afternoon. After the garage confirmed the car’s ailment was terminal I reported back to the wife and the resulting conversation went, “well should we now get a nice new car to drive around town in, or a cheap car so we can move to Canada within the year?” I may have slightly paraphrased here, but if these were the Cliff Notes you would pass the exam.
Before That Car Stuff…
Well I may not have started the story at the beginning. The truth is we had a lovely detached two story house in a very nice neighbourhood, we both had steady fulltime jobs, we lived in the historic city of York, went to restaurants on weekends, saw friends and family every week and lived the good life. So obviously it was time to move to Canada.
Ok so not too obvious then. Well for myself the truth is if the Head of Legal points to the Chief Director and says to you ” Geoff if you work here long enough maybe you could aim for that position,” if at that very moment your head slams into your keyboard then it is already perhaps time to think of moving on. Unfortunately I tend to procrastinate, so five and a half years later I finally handed in my notice. Sacha had also decided to hand in her notice for a job which was secure but in an industry non too progressive.
The truth is the economy had stagnated and we were considering whether it was worth leaving York in search of bigger and better. Sacha would look at Manchester and London, when suddenly it occurred to us, why not make a change into a journey? So off we go to Canada.
By the way the score was a 1-0 England win.