Well, I have a reader! Didn't know until a dear friend told me about reading this. Not sure how to deal with that, as a blog is kid of like a diary, and it is more easy to put personal things in there if you think no-body will read it. Not at least until after you are dead and buried. Truth be told, I had forgotten that it was even here, and it was her reminding me that prompted me to have another go. So thank you my dear!
So where am I now?
Johannesburg. Have been here for 3 months, and suffered 1 mosquito bite during the whole trip. I consider that a victory. As it happens, I am heading back to UK tomorrow for a month. That will be nice - seeing the family, meeting up with friends, drinking decent beer in proper pubs and walking the dog. Found a couple of places that serve draft Guinness here, but apart from that there is only fizzy lager shite.
And I don't really know anybody here. Mustafa doesn't go out of an evening, so I've nobody to go exploring with. I've been living at his house over the past 3 months, whilst we decide where I'll be better off living. Choices are a cottage in the grounds of another house he owns, or a homestead farmhouse about 15 K south of the city.
Both have plus and minus points... The cottage is on a lovely, very smart estate which has proper security and even though quiet, is only 400 metres from the centre of the suburb. There are clubs, bars, restaurants and basically plenty of entertainment places which can be walked to. There are 4 staff in the quarters of the house. The house itself is very large: pool, tennis court, and set on a lovely large piece of land in one of the best suburbs of Jo'Burg. All in all very nice.
Thing is, the main house is in need of renovation, and Mustafa has not decided whether to renovate or redevelop. If he redevelops he will build at least 10 houses on the plot, or maybe an apartment complex. Until then, there is a feeling of Miss Havisham's about the place, with the sword of Damocles thrown in for good measure.
The homestead is on a little hillock overlooking the road, with drive up to it. Although the road is close, it still feels remote. It has a lemon tree with the sweetest lemons I have ever tasted. The pool needs renovating, but it is nice. It is on the edge of a farming 'village' area, and there are actually a few pubs around. Almost like an African version of home. However I'm not so comfortable with the idea of going out at night. It is a lot more remote, and security must be considered.
More to follow - it is late now and I need sleep.
Tuesday 27 November 2012
Friday 6 April 2012
The password is twice
Where to go from here?
Believe it or not, I am sitting back in my old room in Lviv, wide awake at silly o'clock, writing this. Last update was January... really don't know where to begin, but will try:
My Great Uncle died in February (see entry passim). Funeral was a lovely family get together. We have cleared a lot of stuff from his house, and will sell it soon. Guess I could have taken it and moved in, but it is not really in a place I would wish to be. Desirable in its own manner, but a bit of a suburban shoe box for my liking. Will sell soon enough.
My time in UK was punctuated with walking the dog and cat, visiting friends and drinking in the local pubs. Difficult to relate to the locals (Powlo now knows exactly why) and keen to move on, far and fast.
Here comes Mustafa... and old friend of mine, now owning a stud farm in South Africa. Very nice. He suggested I popped over and offered me some work in Lagos, Nigeria. House, car, basic + bonus etc. After discussion with my friend in Milan it was stopped. She (by the way) went to Paris for Alexander McQueen, and we kept in regular and affectionate contact.
I spent a lot of time with my goldsmith friend as well, helping her out whilst she had no wheels, and think I played a part in keeping her sane. I know she misses me! An ex appeared on the scene again. I thought I was safe as she has a new, extremely wealthy boyfriend. However, she made it perfectly clear that she would drop him RIGHT NOW for me. Sod that. She may be good-looking (and, let's be honest, was great in the sack), but she was a fucking nightmare and I am so well out of that. I am not going back into that situation ever. Game over.
Did meet one interesting girl in UK however. 20 years younger than me, but she really had something about her. We got on, and still do! We met up a few times and she even obliquely suggested we could become 'fuck buddies', but I had to be honest with her and tell her that there was a girl I am seriously into. So nothing came of that. We still chat and meet to eat though. She has a lot of class.
So what the fuck am I doing in Ukraine again? Well...Ukraine has just held its Fashion Week in Kiev, and a certain girl I know was rather involved in that. She suggested I went over as it would be nice for us to meet up. I jumped at the chance, having missed her so much it hurt. The goldsmith arranged a couple of presents, setting one 'giraffe' ring with 2 black diamonds for me. A lovely piece of work. She dropped me off at Luton (after an evening guesting on George Sassoon's daughter's radio show), and I flew over.
We got an apartment in Kiev and had a wonderful time. She really looked after me, and was the best company I could ever wish for. She loved the ring and things. Then she had to move on with a UN junket, and I came to Lviv to relax in the apartment and wait for her. The apartment owner was driving over, so I knew I could score a lift back at some stage. I managed to get him to give a lift to Powlo, another friend who used to work in my pub kitchen. He is a good friend to me (even though I did sack him) and I knew it would do him good. They arrived and I have been showing him around the city. He now realises that the anecdotes I come out with are not all bullshit; strange things really do happen. He met her too, and understands why I love her so much.
When Powlo worked in my kitchen, he was very influenced by my chef and another kitchen worker, both of whom truly detested me. They were difficult to get rid of, and I did nearly resort to reaching into my old life to find ways of dealing with them. They really were that bad, and had no idea of who they were dealing with. On arrival, he told me that one of them had warned him against coming here as I would murder him or suchlike. When he went on his facebook, to say he was having a great time, the fuckwit then started to publish that I HAD killed Powlo, and hi-jacked his account. Amusingly, as I had blocked him, he could not read my responses to his comments, but everyone else could see the dialogue in its entirety. He was so bothered that my friend was happy he 'de-friended' him, proving what a deluded asshole he is. This week we also learned that my ex-chef has just had a nervous breakdown. Bastard deserved it. He'd have had a lot worse if I wasn't so much calmer nowadays. These small-town idiots have no idea of how close they got to rattling a real monster. However, maybe karma plays its part in the end. I like to think so.
So what next? We will drive back to UK next week, and I will spend some time with my parents. She will go back to Milan, sort some stuff out and then Paris. We expect to meet there. If Mustafa comes through with his promises, he will fly me (and her if she wishes) to South Africa where we will plan a business trip to Bangkok. She will come too, as she has a most excellent plan for both of our futures, and the trip to Bangkok will play an important part of that. I hope so. I really want to be with her. I am completely hers, hook, line and sinker. I always was. I have told her this and she seemed very moved by it, but what do I know? Just because I want somebody, it doesn't mean that they feel the same way, and I am still not sure. Powlo is convinced (and amazed!) that she truly loves me, but I am not too sure, partially from my own insecurity wondering how somebody so beautiful and special could possibly see anything in me. Maybe I undervalue myself. 3 girls here commented that they wanted to marry me within the last 10 days, and I have had enough propositions from ex-girlfriends to convince me that there is at least 1 thing that I do right. But is it arrogant to feel special? Fuck it; I'll just do as I am told. I will do anything to be with her, whether she truly wants me or not. And I honestly cannot see that situation changing for the rest of my life. I know that in my mind I've met the one, I can only hope and pray she feels the same way.
Believe it or not, I am sitting back in my old room in Lviv, wide awake at silly o'clock, writing this. Last update was January... really don't know where to begin, but will try:
My Great Uncle died in February (see entry passim). Funeral was a lovely family get together. We have cleared a lot of stuff from his house, and will sell it soon. Guess I could have taken it and moved in, but it is not really in a place I would wish to be. Desirable in its own manner, but a bit of a suburban shoe box for my liking. Will sell soon enough.
My time in UK was punctuated with walking the dog and cat, visiting friends and drinking in the local pubs. Difficult to relate to the locals (Powlo now knows exactly why) and keen to move on, far and fast.
Here comes Mustafa... and old friend of mine, now owning a stud farm in South Africa. Very nice. He suggested I popped over and offered me some work in Lagos, Nigeria. House, car, basic + bonus etc. After discussion with my friend in Milan it was stopped. She (by the way) went to Paris for Alexander McQueen, and we kept in regular and affectionate contact.
I spent a lot of time with my goldsmith friend as well, helping her out whilst she had no wheels, and think I played a part in keeping her sane. I know she misses me! An ex appeared on the scene again. I thought I was safe as she has a new, extremely wealthy boyfriend. However, she made it perfectly clear that she would drop him RIGHT NOW for me. Sod that. She may be good-looking (and, let's be honest, was great in the sack), but she was a fucking nightmare and I am so well out of that. I am not going back into that situation ever. Game over.
Did meet one interesting girl in UK however. 20 years younger than me, but she really had something about her. We got on, and still do! We met up a few times and she even obliquely suggested we could become 'fuck buddies', but I had to be honest with her and tell her that there was a girl I am seriously into. So nothing came of that. We still chat and meet to eat though. She has a lot of class.
So what the fuck am I doing in Ukraine again? Well...Ukraine has just held its Fashion Week in Kiev, and a certain girl I know was rather involved in that. She suggested I went over as it would be nice for us to meet up. I jumped at the chance, having missed her so much it hurt. The goldsmith arranged a couple of presents, setting one 'giraffe' ring with 2 black diamonds for me. A lovely piece of work. She dropped me off at Luton (after an evening guesting on George Sassoon's daughter's radio show), and I flew over.
 |
| Kendall Sassoon on the radio |
 |
| A brace of supermodels |
We got an apartment in Kiev and had a wonderful time. She really looked after me, and was the best company I could ever wish for. She loved the ring and things. Then she had to move on with a UN junket, and I came to Lviv to relax in the apartment and wait for her. The apartment owner was driving over, so I knew I could score a lift back at some stage. I managed to get him to give a lift to Powlo, another friend who used to work in my pub kitchen. He is a good friend to me (even though I did sack him) and I knew it would do him good. They arrived and I have been showing him around the city. He now realises that the anecdotes I come out with are not all bullshit; strange things really do happen. He met her too, and understands why I love her so much.
 |
| Kiev |
So what next? We will drive back to UK next week, and I will spend some time with my parents. She will go back to Milan, sort some stuff out and then Paris. We expect to meet there. If Mustafa comes through with his promises, he will fly me (and her if she wishes) to South Africa where we will plan a business trip to Bangkok. She will come too, as she has a most excellent plan for both of our futures, and the trip to Bangkok will play an important part of that. I hope so. I really want to be with her. I am completely hers, hook, line and sinker. I always was. I have told her this and she seemed very moved by it, but what do I know? Just because I want somebody, it doesn't mean that they feel the same way, and I am still not sure. Powlo is convinced (and amazed!) that she truly loves me, but I am not too sure, partially from my own insecurity wondering how somebody so beautiful and special could possibly see anything in me. Maybe I undervalue myself. 3 girls here commented that they wanted to marry me within the last 10 days, and I have had enough propositions from ex-girlfriends to convince me that there is at least 1 thing that I do right. But is it arrogant to feel special? Fuck it; I'll just do as I am told. I will do anything to be with her, whether she truly wants me or not. And I honestly cannot see that situation changing for the rest of my life. I know that in my mind I've met the one, I can only hope and pray she feels the same way.
Sunday 8 January 2012
HNY
Well New Year was entertaining; went to my old pub, and accepted the challenge of a stint behind the bar for old times' sake. All the other chaps behind the bar had taken their shirts off, so I had to join in.
Fortunately, at 44 I was still slimmer than most of the young 20-something-year-old bucks, and have a decent tan to boot. Still went home alone though. T'was a great late evening, and it was fun to pull a few pints and engage in banter with the old customers, without having to stress in any way about how the pub was running.
The Boxing day fashion show was entertaining. They didn't really think it out - the catwalk was in 2 sections, with the girls having to walk across the back of the room to get to the other part. This section was full with people standing, so the girls had to squeeze through a groping horde in semi darkness before they got to the next 'safe' area. Funny for me - but a total lack of common-sense in the organisation. I did meet a chap that I hadn't seen for over 20 years. A group of us used to borrow his chauffeur-driven Bentley to collect and deliver us to whichever bar he was in, when we were young and knocking around Alderley Edge. It was really good to see him - he's still doing OK, and now in central Manchester. Alderley got a bit too 'bling' for him when the footballers moved in.
Have been unblocked from Skype by the model! I didn't realise until she instant messaged me. That rally lasted for a minute or so, before she asked me to call her. I did and we spoke for an hour. Very nice. She's in Prague and OK. It was a lovely conversation, and she insisted on putting the video on so she could see me. She looked great and we laughed a lot. She forbade me from going to Thailand and was most concerned about the cold I caught at the fashion show. A very surprising event!
She called today as well for 30 minutes, telling me she's moving to Milan next week. and I should learn to speak Italian...
My Great-Uncle is very ill. He is 97 and we moved him to a nursing home in October. He's deteriorating fast, but we kept him at home as long as we could. Tonight the home said he may not last until tomorrow, so I waited at my parents' house until they came home, to see whether Mother would want a lift to see him. She spoke with some other family and we will go tomorrow morning.
It is strange, but there are no feelings of sadness or worry. At 97, one can only be circumspect about this sort of thing. 97 is no tragedy - more a feat to be celebrated. Particularly as he kept his independence right up to so close to the end. The next few days will tell, and BBC North West will report it; he has had quite an illustrious life.
Interestingly, the nursing home needed to know whether we would cremate or bury him. If cremated he would need 2 doctors to sign his certificate. That is because, since all of the incidents with people dying from abuse or wrong medication etc in care homes, people to be cremated must have an extra safeguard. They cannot be exhumed and tested should a scandal break out in the future. We agreed on cremation, with ashes to be scattered in a poignant place.
May have a busy couple of weeks ahead.
Fortunately, at 44 I was still slimmer than most of the young 20-something-year-old bucks, and have a decent tan to boot. Still went home alone though. T'was a great late evening, and it was fun to pull a few pints and engage in banter with the old customers, without having to stress in any way about how the pub was running.
The Boxing day fashion show was entertaining. They didn't really think it out - the catwalk was in 2 sections, with the girls having to walk across the back of the room to get to the other part. This section was full with people standing, so the girls had to squeeze through a groping horde in semi darkness before they got to the next 'safe' area. Funny for me - but a total lack of common-sense in the organisation. I did meet a chap that I hadn't seen for over 20 years. A group of us used to borrow his chauffeur-driven Bentley to collect and deliver us to whichever bar he was in, when we were young and knocking around Alderley Edge. It was really good to see him - he's still doing OK, and now in central Manchester. Alderley got a bit too 'bling' for him when the footballers moved in.
Have been unblocked from Skype by the model! I didn't realise until she instant messaged me. That rally lasted for a minute or so, before she asked me to call her. I did and we spoke for an hour. Very nice. She's in Prague and OK. It was a lovely conversation, and she insisted on putting the video on so she could see me. She looked great and we laughed a lot. She forbade me from going to Thailand and was most concerned about the cold I caught at the fashion show. A very surprising event!
She called today as well for 30 minutes, telling me she's moving to Milan next week. and I should learn to speak Italian...
My Great-Uncle is very ill. He is 97 and we moved him to a nursing home in October. He's deteriorating fast, but we kept him at home as long as we could. Tonight the home said he may not last until tomorrow, so I waited at my parents' house until they came home, to see whether Mother would want a lift to see him. She spoke with some other family and we will go tomorrow morning.
It is strange, but there are no feelings of sadness or worry. At 97, one can only be circumspect about this sort of thing. 97 is no tragedy - more a feat to be celebrated. Particularly as he kept his independence right up to so close to the end. The next few days will tell, and BBC North West will report it; he has had quite an illustrious life.
Interestingly, the nursing home needed to know whether we would cremate or bury him. If cremated he would need 2 doctors to sign his certificate. That is because, since all of the incidents with people dying from abuse or wrong medication etc in care homes, people to be cremated must have an extra safeguard. They cannot be exhumed and tested should a scandal break out in the future. We agreed on cremation, with ashes to be scattered in a poignant place.
May have a busy couple of weeks ahead.
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