The Day in the life of Tony Cliffe

The blog that's full of discussion, advice, travel and ramblings!

Tag: blogs

March 27, 2020

Covid-19: We are living in the pages of future history books

The gentle and ever-present hum of the tyres beneath me, steadfast and unwavering unlike my legs and laboured breathing. Breathe. Hold for two seconds. Release. My eyes focusing on the only two meters of tarmac in front of me, I don’t dare look up. Look up, and the game is up, the voice inside your head would switch from encouragement to defeat. One step at a time and this will all be over eventually. Finally, the top of the hill appears, the cadence increases, the burn in the legs decrease as your velocity picks up. The hum grows louder as does the click of the sprockets as you freewheel downhill. The wind rushes across your face, it’s coolness tickling the newly formed sweat on your brow. You feel temporarily weightless, your body absorbs the jolts and the knocks as you rattle over the uneven road surface. You’re flying.

By the time you pull the brakes and you come to a stop at the end of a hill, it makes all that effort of the climb worth it. I smile to myself, the sun beating down on a big stupid grin that now crosses my face…before it returns to normal. That didn’t last long at all. I click back into the pedals, one big push and away I go again, head down, the hum, the steady breathing. Cycling goes on, as does life.

For that split second hurtling down the hill today, I forgot what was going on in the world. For those few brief minutes of weightlessness, the rush of air, the quietness of the chatter inside my head. Normal. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill that brief paradise of solitude and quiet was replaced by the realisation of the chaos in the world today. Normal…what is normal anymore? The set up is the same, the sun is shining, the flowers are blossoming, the sky is blue as it always is, the fields are lush and swaying in the gentle breeze. Normal.

Except it isn’t. The finer details are no longer present.

The blue azure spring sky is crystal clear, not a cloud nor a vapour trail insight. No crisscrossing of people travelling to new destinations on holidays, no business people at 30,000 feet planning their strategy meetings, no families waiting at the airport to greet loved ones. An empty sky.

A shrill call of a Buzzard I can hear above the wind as I slowed down to a stop next to a large open field. I watch it circle, it’s wings spread, another call, effortlessly floating in the sky, it swoops down behind a tree, and I lose sight of it. I guess life goes on for everything else. It hits me how quiet it is, no distant humdrum of traffic, no beeping floating across the air, the air is cleaner, it smells different today.

Other than the long-empty winding road that sweeps before me, rising and falling, snaking in-between the large oak trees and green fields that are waking up from their winter sleep. There is no sign of human life anywhere. By the time I rose up another hill and into the usual busy market town, sure the cars are parked outside houses, the bunting flutters quietly in the breeze between shops in the cobbled high street, signs of life but no people to be seen.

It was Erie today. Cycling in a lockdown while fantastic due to no cars, was oddly satisfying and terrifying at the same time. We live in unprecedented times. Scary unprecedented times. I have family working on the front lines of this horrific global pandemic, each time they leave the door I fear they may get it, with underlying health issues it’s not all rosy if they do.

Queuing outside supermarkets and people are masked up, standing two meters apart, the new normal. I find myself holding my breath like I used to do as a kid when I walked past someone. I’m 27 and I’ve reverted back to a child who holds their breath to not catch a disease. Marking on the floor denote where you can stand, lines separate people in the aisle, every person you see you’re wary of. Do they have it? You look down at your hands which are starting to crack from all the washing and hand gels you’re subjecting them to. A cracking of skin trying to hold It together like you are inside. There is little optimism in the air. I see the eyes of the elderly who wonder if every step out the house is their last. A deadly enemy no one can see. I’m frightened by it, deeply so. For a number of reasons.

I’m frightened of what I’ve witnessed, people hoarding and looking out for themselves. People stealing milk from doorsteps and fighting over toilet paper in shops. A civilised society is so evidently fragile and how quick we are like animals to revert to our basic instinct to secure our own survival first.

Never in my lifetime have I ever had such freedom taken away from me. To be told to only leave your house for essential shopping or one form of exercise is something my brain is still trying to process. Never did I ever think that such a fundamental right and something we very much take for granted would be taken away. At least with cycling that one exercise can get me out for a few hours a day.

I’m frightened for my job, one that is unlikely to be renewed in this new financial crisis world. With my temp contract up in August and with it already dubious due to budgetary constraints pre Covid-19, I’m less optimistic than ever it will continue. Work itself, while I mostly teach online anyway to my Masters’ students, the shift to online teaching for all classes was not much a change of way of life for me, job wise. I guess I’m one of the very few academics who were prepared having taught this way since October. While some have been less than appreciative of my offer for help and expertise, others have gladly been very welcoming. When the pressure is on true characters emerge.

However, I am frightened of what this pandemic means for Academia. For me, Academia cannot solely be conducted behind a computer screen. I have built great relationships with my Masters students online having never really met them all in person (and probably at this rate never will) but nothing replaces Academia in a physical setting. Academia is not about the delivery of learning via lectures be that onsite or in the virtual realm. The heart of Academia is the quiet words of encouragement you can give a struggling student at the end of a lecture or the Adhoc advice you give about stats or careers advice in your office. It’s the passing conversations with colleagues in the corridor or over a hot cup of coffee in the breakroom where you can release your stresses of a hectic and pressured environment. It’s the gossip that goes on behind closed doors or the plans and projects you discuss with often misplaced optimism in this current Higher Ed system.

Academia and University without staff or students in it is not Academia. Trying to work from home when you’re used to a busy and social office life is hard. I’ve been impressed by some aspects of how Academia has handled this crisis, and I’ve also been profoundly appalled and apoplectic about it at other times. The concept of Academia running on “Good Will” is safe to say mine has been severely tested as of late, where at times I wonder why I’m in this job.

As a planner, this uncertainty kills me every day.

Holidays have been cancelled that I’ve saved up for months, conferences which would have boosted my academic job potential gone to the wayside. Family overseas I so desperately couldn’t wait to be reunited with on hold. It sucks but small sacrifices we all have to make to ensure we get through this in one piece.

I’ve volunteered to head to the front line to do my bit if I’m required. Hospital logistics. To transport medical supplies between hospitals, GPs and Pharmacies and to deliver medicine to the vulnerable. I’m nowhere near as on the front lines as my Sister working in a Pharmacy or my Dad, a senior Paramedic but I want to do my bit. I’m a Doctor but not that type of Doctor, but it’s good to give back while you can.

It’s not lost on me that we are whether we like it or not, living through one of the world’s key moments in history. We are writing the pages of the history books as we speak. An unprecedented global crisis. Make no mistake that the world has fundamentally changed. It can never go back to the way it was. Our lives have irreversibly changed. Whether for good or for bad, we won’t know until the dust settles and the new world order rights itself. For the better, it might see more people work from home, which reduces pollution, cars on the road, more flexible learning and therefore better work-life balance, child care etc. For the worse, global monopolies, a deepening polarisation of the have and the have nots, a faction of looking out for yourself, a worldwide pandemic of selfishness.

What we knew as normal is no more.

When this curse of Covid-19 is gone (which won’t be for another year at a minimum), when we can finally leave our homes whenever we want, when the markers on the floor have long been pulled up, when we can hug our friends without fear of passing on invisible microbes, when we get out of this. When just like at the start of this pieces, the slog up the mountain is complete. We can embrace a new world, take stock and enjoy that feeling of joy of racing down a hillside. Smile more, love more, tell people you care about that you do care. Look up more often at that blue sky, take notice of the birds and the way the wind tussles the green grass. Look up from your phone and live in the now. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

We will reach the other side of this, but like that ride today, things will be familiar, but the little details will be different. A new world is upon us.

I’d like to wish all of my readers good health. Stay indoors where you can stay safe. To our NHS and careworkers, you have my utmost respect and gratitude for what you do. To my loved ones, know that I care deeply about you, my friends I cherish you.

May we all stay safe, may we all reach the top of this climb together, keep looking that 2 meters ahead of you, keep pushing, don’t give up, one day soon we will feel the rush of that air over our faces again, the rush of freedom in a brave new world.

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August 6, 2019

Why do I write blogs? It’s a window to the emotional me!

For someone who is well known for their public speaking, I’m often pretty damn awful at conveying emotion to people in speech, at least my own emotion. Sure, I think back to my closing speech as head boy, an address full of emotion and I hoped at the time, inspiration. Inspiration for what was at the time, the next most significant step in our lives. I can recall numerous passionate speeches or talks I’ve given over the years to an audience of 2 up to 1000. I can always find the right words and execute them without bother, to be emotive in speech. Yet, ask me to talk about my feelings, and I can’t do it, I get lost for words.

But, I can write them.

I’ve always been a writer in some form or another, in fact, I was very young when I penned my first short story in primary school as part of a project about “what your parents do for a living”, needless to say, it wasn’t my finest work. Put yourself in the shoes of my primary school teachers who read with wide eyes a story about how “My Dad brings a Doll home called Annie and he jumps up and down on it.” My Dad is a senior paramedic of over 35 years and at the time way back then, was either doing advanced training himself or was training others and therefore would bring home the Resus Annie Doll to practice various medical procedures with tubes etc. etc. Innocent enough! Thankfully my teachers knew what job my Dad did and apparently it gave great amusement to the entire staff room for about a week!

I always loved writing little stories here and there for projects or assignments in English but never thought much of it until as part of our GCSE English coursework we had to write a story. My path to writing was down to one woman, Mrs Bygroves, my English teacher, who asked me to stay behind after class. It was her words of encouragement and telling me I had a gift for conveying the written word and that I should write stories that ignited a fire that had been simmering. The following year I published my first novel and then spent the next few years writing my second one for Amazon.

While a pilot or air traffic controller is always my dream job, to be an established author has always been the dream goal!

Writing stories, however, is a lot easier in some ways because you can base characters on people you know, or make them up! You can make things up, you can create worlds, and the emotion the characters portray is not me. It’s them. Blog writing, on the other hand, well, that’s a different kettle of fish altogether.

I started writing blogs way back in sixth form when I was backed into a corner, while I’m glad those days of the infamous blogs about the daily carryon of morons are well and truly over, it gave me a vessel to explain how I felt about people that I couldn’t express in any other form. People would message me and agree with my points and wait eagerly for the next instalment. Each post was me poking a hornet’s nest which fuelled more blogs and so the circle went on. Then I realised that two things were happening. (a.) I was getting things off my chest and thus feeling better and, (b.) people liked the honesty of it all, and I had so many private chats with people about similar things in their ‘friendship’ groups that they could relate to, or I started to add little nuggets about things outside of sixth form or advice about things that again people could relate to. I began to see that maybe my words could help as well as hurt. A dangerous at the time, combination!

My blogs moved away from the subject of others (thankfully) by time I left sixth form (thankfully that blog site was closed down years ago, and all such posts have since been long lost to the internet graveyards. A dark time indeed that was!) and I started to use it more positively, as a way to document my life, my highs, my lows, my travels and above all else, I hoped that someone would get at least one small thing from each blog that I pen. Be that to know you’re not alone if you’re going through something I went through, or maybe you might have tried that piece of advice I wrote about and it worked or even if I inspire you to go visit the places I’ve been.

Writing is to me, incredibly personal. While the birth of my blogs was born out of a crap toxic time, it was liberating to wear my heart on my sleeve and how vulnerable that can make you feel. In-person, I have many walls, and as a person who usually people just open up to me, I listen and then give logical, rational advice, I often end up getting to know a hell of a lot about you. However, I have that knack of you thinking you know me really well when actually you know the surface. That’s in part, down to a well-tested defence mechanism, at least until I trust you or you pass the Tony Test! Slowly those walls come down and you get to know the real me.

Writing blogs for me is always I see it as a little window into the real me. Little glimpses and access to who I am. Close friends and family know me and who I am, but many people see me in person, at least, as probably one of the most calmest, rational, logical and unemotional people you’ll ever meet. I do take pride in that part of myself. I don’t think I’d be doing myself a disservice if I asked my close friends to list the top 3 things they love about me, I would bet my life that they would say something along the lines of one of the points being “You tell it to me as it is. A spade is a spade. You have such clarity to cut through all the emotion of a problem and look at it rationally, logically and objectively. Then you’ll base your advice off that”. I do love how I can cut through all the emotion in a problem! Plus I love giving advice too!

People can often be put off at times at my seemingly outwardly blunt approach to problems, especially if you’re a very emotionally driven person. You very rarely see me overly joyous nor sad, or angry much in person. People can mistake that for being unemotional or as a nickname that has now stuck over the years The Robot or Tony-Bot as I’m effectually called by some! What people don’t realise is I am probably the most emotionally intense person you’ll ever meet, it’s just I have such strong control over them that outwardly you don’t see the range of emotions that go on inside. That’s when I did fall in love all those years ago it was a beautiful yet terrifying few years because that was an emotion that I couldn’t just keep inside and control of and it was like a floodgate! Scary yet awe-inspiring.

As I said, I often find it difficult to express words of how I feel in person. Not to loved ones or close friends, I’m actually a big soft gooey soppy romantic! They know that. But to those who are not in that inner circle which I’ve dropped walls for, to others I do come across as that stoic, driven, logic guy. Actually, I’m just a big marshmallow with a tough exterior wall!

So for me, writing blogs is a window into the emotional me, the guy who sits behind that exterior facing wall. Writing, therefore, is super personal for me because of every word, every emotion I’m feeling I put it into each sentence, I mean every word that I type.

These blogs are fun to write because they vary so much. The humorous ones where I get to let out that fun side of me and showcase my funnybone. The advice ones I love doing because I can use that big old Tony-Bot logic to give objective advice that may help someone. The travel ones satisfy my inner adventurer, and the emotive ones become my ultimate favourite ones.

The emotive blogs come in two forms, either happy or sad. Writing is a release for me. Some people talk to others, some drink, some have a big old cry. For me, I write. It clears my head, gets things off my chest. When I write happy emotive blogs be that dedications to people or writing about something that has happened be that an epic trip with friends or recalling something in my life it’s my heart bursting with love and joy on the page for everyone to share. Although I still get super nervous when I write about people because I never know how they’ll react. In-person no-one ever tells the other person how they perceive them, but in blogs you do. So I’m always nervous that I hope they appreciate my sentiments and how I see them! Always a relief when they message you with positive feedback, only a few times I’ve had to post edit the odd post. Oops!

Yet for me, the hardest to write and the hardest but most rewarding to read back are when life isn’t so great. I’ve never been on in these blogs or social media to only ever talk about the good stuff. This has always been about me as a person, the good and all the bad. I feel some of my best-written work has been those emotionally charged ones when either I’ve been seething with anger, or I’ve been typing through tears from being absolutely done in and heartbroken. Weirdly enough, they’re often my most read by people, either people enjoy reading my misfortune because of the event, or they appreciate that every word is dripping in emotion! Not sure which aha!

Too many people in modern-day life and especially on blogs and social media paint a perfect life, they’re wonderful, they’re doing this well. It’s false. A perfect life doesn’t exist. It’s irrational and illogical to think it’s true. I’ve documented some terrible personal lows through my blogs, eulogies of passed on relatives, discussions about leaving places and moving on, heartache words of falling out with a friend, to my emotions and recovery of that breakup which at the time ripped my heart into pieces and where I spent the best part of two years teetering on depression and my well-documented recovery of that process.

Life is a rollercoaster and we all go through shit in life. So when times are hard, I want people to read it and be like yeah he doesn’t have his shit together at all. He’s normal. And I also want people to read it and take solace if they’re going through shit too. Plus, as a side note, although annoyingly this is my 3rd blog site now and the other two where deleted without warning! That I look back at those blogs written as a document of my life. I read again all those happy memories in the happy blogs, and I see how far I’ve come from the sad ones.

Writing blogs is an excellent way for me to document things, get things off my chest. As a reader, I don’t know what you get from these blogs, various ramblings from a distinctly average, ordinary guy! I have no idea. I hope that you read them and at times laugh, sometimes cry, I hope you get inspired, comforted, or advice is taken on board.

So when I’m asked, why do I write blogs? I write for myself, a voice for that big old emotional me who sits inside the Tony-Bot. Thanks for reading!

P.S. check back in at the end of the week because speaking of emotion, I wrote a blog many years ago about how female friends had influenced my life. That sadly vanished when my old blog closed down and as its been years since I had that P.C. it’s now gone. It was one of my all-time favourite emotive dedication style blogs. So, this week I’m writing a different one but on similar lines. A dedication to those who broke down the walls.

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December 4, 2018

Geneva with Laura

Those of you who had read my last blog My visit to Split, Croatia might be asking the question of how do you go to a conference in Split, Croatia, and end up in Geneva? Good question. To answer it is in part logistics and well any other excuse to go travelling. I’m fortunate as a funded PhD student to get £1500 per year for expenses to use for conferences, travel and anything PhD related. As beautiful as Split is, it’s an awkward place to get to, that also makes it expensive to get to. Flights from my part of the world are few and far between, i.e. once a week! But annoyingly that meant that while I could get to Split the day before the conference, it meant I couldn’t go back until three days afterwards at the cost of £500 return, not to mention how much an extra three days in the apartment may have costed me!

While I could afford that, I knew I had applied for my second international conference in Bergen, Norway in October so if I was accepted, I needed the £300 plus for the registration fee. So I hedged my bets that I’d get accepted and therefore needed to keep the money left of my expenses for the year (they run August to August) for that conference. So I got creative. The flight out to Split was £110 one way. I went on FlightRadar24 and had a look for departures from Split on the Saturday after the conference to see what destinations they flew to and using my extensive avgeekary I know pretty much all of the destinations served from Liverpool and Manchester. So my plan was to find somewhere I could fly to from Split and then after a few days get home again. That’s when I saw Geneva on the departure board. Much like Croatia, Switzerland and specifically Geneva, was on my 12 holidays in 12 months plan but I never got around to it, so it felt like a perfect excuse to go! The flight from Split was £60 and the return to Liverpool £80, bargain! As I book so many hotels every year I’m a genius member on Booking.com, so I get 15% off most hotels, I found a brilliant 4* hotel in Geneva for less than £200, and before I knew it that was my plan post-conference!

Those of you who follow my blogs know that 90% of my travels are solo affairs and I’ve written many times about how much I love that. However, they can get lonely at times, and as much as blogs and pictures try to convey the experiences it’s never really the same, and sometimes you can create special memories by sharing it with other people on the trip. While out on one of our many cycling rides, I told Laura about my plan and that all she needed to do was get her bum on a seat to Geneva and everything else was paid for. Yay! I had a travel buddy and even better that we decided to go hire some bikes to cycle the beautiful Lake Geneva.

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Time to head to Switzerland

Usually, as I waited for the local bus to the airport from Split, I’d be sad to leave such a fantastic place, but the thought of another couple of days away was exciting. I thought Split was hot, but Geneva and central Europe were in the grips of one of the most blistering heatwaves in recent times and so was in the high 30’s and the day we had planned to go cycling it was expected to hit 38c! As much as I loved Split, one thing let it down, and that was the airport. My god, that airport is shambolic. It’s such a shame too! It’s too small to handle the summer traffic, and for 2.5 hours I had to stand in the departure lounge due to a lack of seats, and there was only one tiny booth selling food and drink. I have never been in such a chaotic airport departure lounge. I watched Laura’s flight from Liverpool take off on my app, and before long, I was up in the air myself heading to Geneva.

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Lack of seats meant chaos trying to walk through the tiny terminal

As much as the landing into Split was epic, flying over Mont Blanc and the Alps on approach to Geneva was really awesome! The views on the flight flying over Venice, North Italy and then the Alps certainly made up for the cramped wait in Split. With clear blue skies and a gentle landing, it wasn’t long before I was in the arrivals hall waiting for my bag and I exchanged what leftover Croatian money I had into Swiss Franc which is probably the most Monopoly-ish money I’ve ever had! The great thing about Geneva is their exceptional system of providing free travel passes to visitors to get you from the airport to anywhere in the city (including trains, trams, buses and ferries… all for free!) all you had to do was press a button in the arrivals, and the only stipulation was you had to use it within an hour of getting it.

Laura’s plane had arrived about 45 minutes ahead of mine, so it was a comedy of WhatsApp calls trying to find each other in the arrivals, but we eventually did! For me, it felt like two spies meeting in a neutral location to swap stories, but that’s probably just the author in me! Laura had become one of my best friends in the short time I’d known her and is still one of my favourite humans, so I was really looking forward to exploring this new city with her.

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Meeting up in arrivals!

We navigated the train and ended up in the city where a wall of heat hit me. While Split was hot, there was a constant sea breeze which made it pleasant. In between the heat of the buildings of the city of Geneva, the heat was oppressive, which didn’t help to lug a giant suitcase through the streets. With thanks to Google Maps, we ended up at the hotel, and there was another brilliant perk of Geneva. Any guest staying in a hotel within the city boundaries is given free travel passes for their entire stay to use again on trains, trams, buses and ferries (such a fantastic idea to increase tourism!).

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The chair

After quickly freshening up we headed out to explore this place but not before going on a wild goose chase to find a supermarket! Wow. I mean that was a trek and a half to find this supermarket! After loading me up like a human packhorse, we headed to our closest landmark from the hotel, the UN building and the chair. I’ve visited the other UN building in New York, so it was really cool to see and get pictures with the main UN building! The chair is also iconic, and I didn’t know its three legs is a symbol of a reminder of landmines hence the one leg blown off, kind of neat in a weird way. After plenty of pictures outside the UN, we walked through their botanical gardens, which were sublime! Sitting on the grass felt surreal chilling like we usually do but miles away from home in another country like you do on an average Saturday!

 

 

 

 

Walking along the lake with the views of the city in the distance was so cool and walking through their park (and the customary picture with the WTO building. Geography bucket list tick!) it made us both think what giant city parks should be like. Sefton Park is okay, but it wasn’t a patch on this place. Music, parties, the smoke and smells of numerous BBQs drifted across our path. There was a wedding, there were family picnics, and people were jumping in the lake. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, the buzz and vibe of this place were already fantastic. You know what too? People were drinking responsibly, cleaning up after themselves and everyone was out enjoying the hot Saturday afternoon sunshine with no agro! If only our British culture weren’t so opposite! I can only imagine the scene in Sefton Park if this was to happen there.

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Lac Leman

After a long walk along the lake and as the sunset over Geneva, we went and got some food (that classic Swiss dish of McDonald’s) and headed back to the room for the night. The next day was really what we’d come for, a cycle around Lake Geneva!

For £20 you could hire road bikes for the day and what a bargain that was! I had been lugging my cycling gear around with me since Split, so it felt really good to finally use it! I’ve only ever cycled abroad once, and that was around Valencia, and we all know how badly that ended with a flat tire and a 45c 10-mile walk back to the city centre! I hoped that this journey would be a little less troublesome. Switzerland is also known as a fantastic place to cycle, and I was so excited to clip in and head out on the open road for our less than usual Sunday ride! By the time we arrived in Geneva, it had become our thing to spend Sundays together cycling, chilling, cooking food, so it felt like a typical Sunday for us, except here we were in Geneva!

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Ready for our epic cycle!

The bikes we hired were fantastic road bikes “we’ve just got them in” in a thick French accent the guy tells us, cool. What wasn’t so cool was nearly having an argument with the arsey French guy about SPD vs Look cleats. While I respect that he owns the bike shop, he really ought to have known the difference, and while I would love to say his arrogant attitude was because English wasn’t his second language, I just think he was typically French!

My biggest concern cycling here was about being on the wrong side of the road but that never actually became a problem (except at roundabouts where you had to really use your brain). After heading out of the city (thankfully the roads early on a Sunday morning were lovely and quiet) we started to steadily climb out of the city, passing through these stunning Swiss villages. Glass free smooth roads paved our way as we cycled past vineyards, farms and cute houses. Before long, we reached the brow of a steady hill, and we both just had to stop and take in the scene in front of us. To our right the Lake had appeared below us, fields of giant sunflowers lead down to the lake, the morning sun shimmering off the blue water and right there, across the lake was the tall Alps rising in the morning mist to meet the sun. Just a stunning view that I will remember for a very long time.

 

 

 

 

We pushed on North following the Lake until we came across a small town called Rolle’ and we decided to stop for a coffee. We found this quaint little waterfront cafe, lined by manicured flowers with a view of the Lake and Alps. We parked our bikes up and using GCSE French and with the help of Google Translate managed to order two black coffees. Those of you who know us both will know how much we love coffee and I think I’m safe in saying that not only was that the most scenic coffee I have ever had, I feel like we both could have spent all day drinking coffee and looking out at the view. We cycled around a little castle and just admired the view. It was a perfect morning. This village was perfect!

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What struck me the most about cycling here was how effortless it was here. Cars gave you room, the pavements were incredibly smooth, it was a dream. Since that trip cycling in the UK is far harder and a lot more painful! We carried on as we tried to reach halfway around the lake until the dreaded fear of the hired bike became a reality. You read horror stories of bikes snapping in half or cassettes exploding on plenty of cycling abroad blog sites. By now it was in the mid 30’s and well into the afternoon, the heat once you stopped was crazy! While the mechanical on Laura’s bike wasn’t as dramatic as some of the stories of hire bikes, it was no less annoying. As they were new bikes, they hadn’t adjusted the limit screws or indexed the gears correctly. So anytime she tried to put any power down up a hill the gears would jump and skip, not only is that annoying but it can be pretty dangerous! The most annoying thing as we decided that it was better to call it quits and cycle the just under 30 miles back in one gear, was that it was a simple fix if you had the right tools. All it needed was a small screwdriver. I’ve adjusted my gears and indexed them many times on my own bike, so it was frustrating to be defeated by a simple mechanical.

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Zwift like Swiss villages we passed on our cycle

But, It’s cycling abroad, while I stayed in one gear to sympathise, at least this time I wasn’t walking back! Maybe next time I go cycling 3rd-time lucky mechanicals will stay away. On our trip back, it was no less beautiful, but I did become concerned very quickly about the heat. By now, it was 38c, and we had no water left at all. I was under no doubt that the sweat had probably washed away any of my sunblock. It’s a Sunday and nowhere is open and no water fountains to be seen. Laura suggested that we should stop at a Café or restaurant and just ask them to fill them up with water. Me being me was like they’ll never do that! Turns out as usual with her, I was wrong, and she was right. If it weren’t for her, I’d have been that pigheaded person who would have died on the bike through dehydration because I didn’t want to ask for water in French!

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LakeGeneva by bike

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Other than the mechanical, we arrived back after 50+ miles and 2400 feet of climbing! An epic ride, even more so when factoring in nearly 40c heat! It felt so good to get a shower after that’s for sure. As tired as we were, there is a euphoria of completing an epic ride like that and no doubt memories we’ll take away from it for a long time. For me, I feel it will take an exceptional ride to top that!

 

 

 

 

We didn’t stop there though, we got changed, got some food, then headed out for a sunset view around the town and the see the Jet ‘Eau at sunset. By the next morning, we checked out and headed back around the city, exploring and picking up some souvenirs for friends and family. By late afternoon we were flying back to Liverpool, and that brought a close to a fantastic few days away and for me, a brilliant just under 2 weeks away. Geneva is a city that I highly recommend you visit. Not only is it beautiful, clean, friendly and impressive, it also has a vibe about it that isn’t touristy. By that I mean, Prague last year with Laura and Katie was a fantastic and beautiful city, but you knew it was a tourist destination. Geneva, however, just felt like an ordinary city with people going about their daily lives and was very Swiss! If you get the chance to hire a bike head out to Rolle and enjoy a coffee with stunning vistas it will be worth it I assure you! Due to work commitments and moving different places in the country that was to be our last weekend together for a very long time, so it was sad to part ways at the bus stop at LJLA but what a tremendous mini-break away with one of my favourite people!

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July 29, 2018

North Atlantic Adventure: Prince Edward Island

I’m half way through my two week adventure as i head to the wonderful Island of Prince Edward Island. A great part of my trip with fantastic weather, sunsets, views and friendly people!

Charlottetown not Charlotte’s town as I was calling it for most of my trip is a place for some unknown reason I’ve always wanted to visit. Not just the town but the island itself, the island that is known as P.E.I (Prince Edward Island). I’d love to say it was down to an advert where I was captivated by the deep red cliff and sands of the Island, the abundance of sea wild life and the stories of the many lighthouses dotted around the place. I’d love to say it was due to the famous book Anne of Greengables for which this island is most famed for but no neither of them. While I’d seen adverts, my curiosity and desire to visit this place was almost innate, a draw to this island for no particular reason. It certainly wasn’t the book, I only heard about it when I was doing my research for what tours to take while on the island and despite visiting her house on this trip, I’m still very unclear what it is about the book that has captured the hearts and minds of so many!

Today was a pretty long travelling day as I head south from St. John’s. Awaiting me was a 2 and a half hours flight to Halifax before waiting for an hour to catch a 30 minute flight on a teeny tiny plane across the Gulf and into the Island that is Prince Edward Island. More on that flight later!  The short taxi ride to the airport the skies continued to be grey and the thermometer hovered between 2 and 3 degrees above freezing. Before I left the hotel I checked the weather in Charlottetown, a lovely 25c! That weather was to stay for the rest of the week and was going to be in the 28’s in Toronto. Lovely! As a Brit we rarely get anything above 17c after the first week in September and after spending the past two days in -5 wind chill I was certainly looking forward to blue skies and warm sunshine.

The flight from St. John’s to Halifax was just as beautiful as my flight over, passing over tiny islands and plenty azure blue water. After a quick club sandwich in the airport café I went down and waited for my flight. I was super excited about this short hop over the Gulf for one reason….a reeeeaallly small plane! Jets are great and all but there is a thrill about getting a plane that only holds ten people and it’s so small there is no door to the cockpit so you can see right out of the front! That’s a very rare thing in today’s high security aviation world. Getting up close to the plane, the co-pilot greeted you at the door and this is an experience you just don’t get in the UK anymore and I couldn’t wait for those engines to spool up.

The flight was boarded up quickly and I watched as the propellers began to turn and the vibrations messaged my seat. It was quite the sight to see the pilots working through their checklists just before take-off. The noise on take-off was quite simply, deafening! I’ve been on many loud planes before, heck I’ve been hanging out of the back of a C-130 Hercules over the Bristol Chanel in my RAF cadet days and I thought that was loud but it was nothing compared to the ear splitting pitch of a Beech 1900D on take-off. If you ever do happen to find yourself on one of these tiny planes bring ear plugs or noise cancelling headphones, your ears will thank you for it! That to me though just added to the excitement of it all, real old school flying but I know it won’t be for everybody. Flying so low and slow across to the Island was a real treat and I greatly enjoyed what felt like a mini private flight.

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Like flying over the amazon!

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Upon landing I thought they had landed at a local flying club rather than an airport but no this was P.E.I’s airport. Again, tiny. Advantages of that is I was waiting for a taxi with my bag 4 minutes after getting off the plane. As the airport is so small there was only taxi and the next was not going to arrive for another 10 minutes but “more were on the way” I was assured by a woman who I’m pretty sure offloaded my bags and was checking people in! Behind me in the queue where two Canadian businessmen with their brief cases talking about if they’d make the start of their conference in time, I turned to them and offered them to take the next cab rather than me as I was in no particular rush at all. They declined politely and instead asked where I was heading and if I was visiting judging by my accent. I explained about my travels and he welcomes me to his Island and says jump in the cab with us and I’ll make sure the driver drops you off at your hotel first, you’re a guest to Canada I’ve got it. What a lovely gesture! Turns out they’re JCB type truck owners and there is a big conference at one of the hotels on the island in Charlottetown where I was heading. He was one of the biggest sellers on the island and it was really cool chatting to both of them! They both had family in Missagura where my family live and they had family from England so it was nice swapping stories for the 20 minute drive into the town. I shook their hand and thanked them as I departed the cab and walked into my very grand hotel which was apt considering it was called the Holman Grand. It was fancy! Check-in was a breeze and I headed up to my very comfy and lovely room which had a super view!

I dropped my bags off into the room, grabbed a shower then headed out for something to eat and grab somethings for the room and for tomorrow’s tour. As always I just head out aimlessly to explore a new location. I wanted to head towards their waterfront as I had read there was a nice boardwalk that went around this part of the Island, so off I went. It was late afternoon by time I had arrived the warmth felt so lovely after such a cold few days! Every street I turned onto I felt I had to take a picture of. Yet again this was a place like no other, a common theme on this trip. This place had captured my heart instantly. From the amazingly presented quaint old wooden houses, to the bright flowers to the old gas lamps to the friendliness of the people I was blown away. Everyone said hello. Everyone. Young or old it didn’t matter. It had that small village feel to it despite it being a town, quite possibly the prettiest town I’ve ever been in that’s for sure.

After a few pictures and walk along the waterfront I ended up on the main high street which was oddly full of red bricked buildings, something I really did not expect to see. I shouldn’t have been so surprised with this being the oldest part of Canada, in fact this place is exactly where Canada as a nation was born! Lights hung across the street, flowers and manicured vines went up the side of buildings, bunting fluttered in the wind. Simply stunning. I wandered into an Irish bar called the Old Dubliner which to be fair to them actually looked and had the vibe of an Irish pub. After a whiskey or two and a steak I was suitably refuelled. If you find yourself in Charlottetown which I hope you do, I fully recommend it! I stopped off at a convenience store before I headed back to my room. I was going to relax and have a quiet evening after all the travel but I noticed some clouds around and they were beginning to change colour. I had a great feeling about the weather and had that photographers feeling that this sunset would be good. I slipped my shoes back on, packed my camera gear and headed towards Victoria Park that hugged the water via a boardwalk just outside of the city. It was only a short walk and I was ultimately captivated by it all. It was so incredibly peaceful and Mother Nature gave me one of the most spectacular sunsets I have ever had the pleasure to have seen. The birds chirped, owls hooted, the waves lapped the shore. A moment in time I’d love to replay constantly. Ultimate at peace with the world, yourself and everything!

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P.E.I Sunset

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I had my tripod set up and people kept saying hello, chatting about the sunset and two people came next to me to ask about camera settings. All locals, all incredibly friendly. I cannot express enough how warm everyone was I have never and I don’t think ever will visit such an incredibly friendly city as here. The walk back to the hotel as night fell was surreal. Walking through leafy gas lamp lit streets as the moon rose above the city. I stopped on the corner of a street and just paused for a second. I had fallen in love with this place and I felt like I had come home. I had no idea why I’d always wanted to visit this place but here I was thousands of miles away from home in a place that had captured me like no place other. I was home. It felt like a part of me needed to come here and here I was. I’ve heard stories of people saying they’ve found their place in the world or reciting stories of places that they’ve left a part of themselves in. I’ve loved many places I’ve visited but I always thought that was people being melodramatic. Now I understood. If I was to ever move to Canada, it would certainly be this place and I have missed it every day since I left!

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Nice sunny day on P.E.I

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After a great sleep and breakfast the next morning I headed out onto a pre-booked tour. It was me, a guy from Australia, a mum and daughter from Oxford and two old American couples. One of which was so incredibly loud and for some reason the guy decided to befriend me. He was this giant of a man called Bob Johnson from Chicago. He was so loud! I got talking to him while we waited for the bus to arrive and he loved Victorian England history and visited “CornWaaaall” where his wife’s family lives every other year. He decided to refer to me as “Hey England” for the entire 6 hour tour. I didn’t mind, he was funny and cool and his wife was just as mental. I would say mental but realistically they were just American. The tour took me to a little shop in the middle of the Island that made a variety of Jams and Chutneys. They had so many and I was well full after trying so many samples! After a short drive we headed up North to the area of Cavendish where the famous red cliffs and sands are before visiting and having an hour around Anne of Greengables house.

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Anne’s House

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Lovely setting and this was the reason everyone was on the tour. For me it meant nothing so I just explored the forest instead! After there we stopped at a few fishing ports and learnt about the Lobster quotas and listened to a local fisherman explain how they catch them before heading back to the city. The tour guide Roddy MacLaine was a fantastic tour guide. So much so I asked if he did private tours and he did. I gave him some cash and he said he’d take me on a tour of the Island tomorrow! That evening I went and tried out some Fish and Chips which was very good but not as good as St. John’s before taking some fantastic sunset pictures again in the evening.

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P.E.I sunsets are unbelievable!

My final day on the Island was a private 8 hour tour of the Island. Roddy was a really cool old Islander who had so many stories and was such a joy to spend time with him. Such a personalised tour was very special. We visited one of the longest bridges in the world the confederation bridge that spanned the gulf between the island and the mainland. I suppose a when in Rome moment did occur on this tour. He knew all the store people well and he explained that many of the tourists literally come to this store to get their picture taken as Anne from Anne of Greengables. After a mini protest I thought fuck it and proceeded to dress up as Anne. Why the hell not! No regrets. I think I suited it to be honest.

My personal highlight however was ending up in a small town called Victoria on the coast which had a lighthouse dominating the view. Roddy knew the owner of the lighthouse, a guy who made candles for a living who shipped these fantastic pieces of art all over the world! He opened the lighthouse up for me and gave me a tour. What an experience! You just simply would not get this kind of experience anywhere else! I really enjoyed my time on this tour and of the Island. Not one place was not beautiful, not one place you would not wish you had more time to explore in.

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Private Lighthouse

This didn’t feel like Canada at all, it was very unique and a place I highly recommend you come visit. I can honestly see why this is seen as one of Canada’s jewels in the crown and why so many people sing its praises. It’s a mystical magical island of red sands, dripping in history and surrounded by friendship and warmth from the locals. It was unlike anywhere I have ever visited and I wish I could go back. It was a real highlight of the trip!

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Real treat to be invited into his home workshop

I was sad to leave this warm beautiful Island as I took one last stroll as the sun began to set on my time here and it gave me one last unbelievably stunning sunset. I sat on the rocks and watched the birds roost as the moon rose and the waves lapped on the shore. I had found paradise and I long to return.

Tomorrow I start my final leg of this epic journey as I head to Toronto, one of my favourite cities and I finally get to meet up again with my beloved Canadian Cousins for my first Canadian Thanksgiving. The thought of that softened the sadness of leaving this place.

Flight Videos for you avgeeks

St. John’s Departure: 

Halifax Arrival: 

Halifax Departure: 

Charlottetown Arrival: 

 

 

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December 27, 2015

So Tony, what motivates you to write?

Answering the question of why I blog – An honest delve into the emotions that motivate me to write.

Recently someone messaged me who wanted to get into blogging and asked me what motivates me to write. I sat back and tried to think of a short answer but in truth there really wasn’t one. I write for many reasons, topics vary wildly, tone and style do too, it all depends on the subject of the blog in question at the time. I blog things because it helps me relax and get a lot of emotion out and I think that helps with my writing. I find writing a very relaxing and empowering thing to do. It’s also a scary thing to do putting your work and your opinions out there for all to see. I have a big old creative brain and I’ve always had that ever since I was child, I listen to way too many movie themes and I dream up loads of scenarios in my head or replay things that have happened. I have a photographic memory so I can still taste, feel, smell and see in perfect detail all of my memories and feel all of the emotions. Example if you asked me about one of the many times I broke my leg a sharp pain makes me wince as it shoots up in shin bone. I can still taste the garlic of the anaesthetic and the feel of it running through my body when I had my operation to remove my tumour from my shin. Eugh shudders. I find the process of describing all that imagery and feelings onto paper so you can see and feel what I feel, a challenge. When you really enjoy it or you get many positive comments or views from a blog it feels very rewarding.

I very rarely go to people for advice, I often find a session on the bike to clear my head or a logical sit down with myself to thrash out all the scenario’s always solves most things. You know it works well because when you all come to me with your problems, you know how stoic and logical and rational I am when I offer you advice. I differ no differently with myself. The only difference is (not to blow my own trumpet) I offer you lot good, sound advice, but never any good advice to myself. It does actually make me laugh at how emotion informs my writing yet very rarely my decisions! (Note to self I am trying to be less of a robot!).

Luckily due to my stoic personality which is a big plus point for many things, one thing is that my emotions very rarely differ from the centre.I’m never too happy nor too sad. I like it that way because despite my exterior and Facebook status being mundane and enjoying the simple things in life, behind that persona is a very passionate person. Yes I know you have just spat your drink out at the sentence but it is true! I have a brilliant control over my emotions which I feel is one thing I am known for. However boring that sounds or comes across in real life, i find it good because I know myself inside and out. It’s a known quantity. I analyse everything like a super computer and that’s got me very far in life. Knowing your emotional state and having a firm grasp on your emotions is a skill set I’ve homed over the years. Emotions can cloud your judgement when logic and reason offer a much clearer view. Trust me it takes a lot of control when you loved your best friend for many years, to keep that hidden and offer objective relationship advice when she asked, despite it always being detrimental to myself. I had many years to compartmentalise things growing up!  However the only times I do differ from the centre is when I’m in love or so angry that when I killed you off in my latest novel, I really wish it was real…I’m just kidding…or am i? 😉

If you’ve ever been loved by me or you’ve been on the end of my quite fierce anger (I am a typical Taurus, it takes an awful lot to get me angry but  you really don’t want to wake the bull by pushing too far!), you’ll see how deep my emotions run. If you’re one of the lucky few that I’ve ever loved, you’ll see how that usual boring Tony is actually a little crazy and that I would do absolutely anything for you. I’m quite a selfish person, let’s be honest. I like doing a lot of things for myself yet when I love you, it’s all about you and only you. That passion is important for the bedroom too. I can’t lay claim to sleeping with many women but I never got any complaints. One thing many guys forget is it’s a two way street and the more you devote to your partner in the bedroom the more rewards you receive. Yes, yes I know that’s not a statistically viable sample size of one…

That’s one reason I’m actually scared to get into a new relationship because when I’m in love I can’t control that emotion. I literally love you with all of my heart and there is no controlling or keeping a lid on that. That’s why I take ages to make sure you’re the one before I commit because I want to know my effort and giving you my heart won’t be wasted. I am terrified to be hurt again and that sadly is the truth…

What I’m trying to say here is before I do go on a tangent about being single and before I go into too much detail about my antics in the bedroom, for which I actually have some very romantic, passionate stories if I were to recall them and well some quite frankly horrendous stories worthy of a comedy film not a porno too. I mean the night I lost my virginity is a blog in itself which will never see the light of day because I don’t think I can see passed the tears of laughter at how embarrassing it was. I can still see those eyes of disappointment from her. Emotions certainly ran high that night but passion was replaced by shear nerves ha-ha. Oh dear lord. Move on Tony!

What I’m trying to say is when I write, despite being in the centre of the feelings scale, I tap into those vibrant emotions that run deep and that helps in my writing and informs it. When I can’t go out on a ride blogs become that release valve. It’s no surprise that my most viewed blog posts have been about relationships or love or in the case of the Merseyrail blog post that has been viewed 34,000 times in 94 different countries, anger! Well sarcasm too! They’re some of my favourite blogs to reread because it really is all my emotion put into them. Often people say they read my blogs, those emotionally driven blogs anyway in my voice which I do find funny. Oddly they’re always my best written pieces too!

Although emotions help me to write I’m not always driven by the blogs of anger or most of the time love and emotions. I also blog when I feel information is worth reading about, such as my latest trip to Ireland. More so the plight of rural Ireland and my feelings of witnessing modern day life slowly creeping into part of the world it was yet to lay its greasy fingers on but also showing you the beauty and kindness of the people I met there. I always enjoy giving you glimpses into my life. Those blogs about friends and family are very personal to me so I love sharing them with you all. More often than not however it’s because something has happened in my life that needs to be shared and it’s often hilarious and at my expense! Those who follow me on Facebook and Twitter will see the absolutely crazy things that happen to me on my way to work or just in general life. I mean if I have to suffer all of that randomness I’m sure as hell gonna’ share it all! Ah I’m still laughing and cringing at the same time at some of the stuff that’s happened over the years.

I also blog as a way of a public diary. I often read back blogs to remember things but more so to look back and reflect on things and I can see exactly my thought processes and emotions at that time. It’s effectively a photograph of words, capturing a moment in time. I don’t know if you find it fascinating but I certainly do. I do hope you do enjoy the highs on lows of my life and what it’s like to be inside of my brain and see the world through my eyes! Someone the other day said “I know that bit in your blog was aimed at me” and they’re correct. Some people appreciate that, other throw a hissy fit and ask for it to be taken down. Truth hurts sadly sometimes! Some blogs within all the emotion and creative writing have a purpose. Subtle or in some cases not so subtle hints to people. They’ll either be hidden messages, unspoken apologies, and the ever so subtle as a sledge hammer fuck you bitch. Or just simply me playing things out in my head of what I wish would happen without ever alluding it to you in person due to many reasons. Blogs are complex and fun just like everyone’s life is. The beauty about those types of blogs are they may be directed at someone but they could really be anyone but if the shoe fits, lace that bitch up and wear it!

I make a lot of mistakes in life and I learn a lot of lessons from them. I certainly have been in many situations to blog about! When you’re so completely sure of yourself you don’t mind being 100% honest in your blogs. Sure I do take a risk to be so open with the things I do say on my blogs but that’s me. What you see is exactly what you get. So when I’m going through a terrible patch I don’t mind telling you all when I’m defeated, angry or depressed because when I’m at my best I like to share the good times too. Above all of that I know there are many people who have different personas in real life and social media. I’ve gotten to know many people over the years and broken down many walls and seen the real person behind all the walls that some people will never see of that person. They’re scared to let those walls down. What you read on my blogs is pretty much me in person.

So to answer the question why do I blog? One main reason is those mistakes I make, those things that I see happening, those things that need to be said, those lessons I’ve learnt. They’re all situations, lessons, feelings you may be facing and I’m just a normal guy trying to write down how I bumble through this life. If my advice or my situation aligns to yours and you can take something away from it, even If it’s just a laugh, good. If you went through a breakup and felt as bad as I did and feel lost. Brill, you’re not alone, you’ll get through it like I did. If you’re on a train while a psycho dressed a turkey eyes you up on the train, you’ll be fine because you’ve seen me deal with it! If you’ve been inspired to visit the places I’ve visited because you’ve read my blogs of that place, even better! If my blogs about family and friends has made you pause for a second to appreciate your own then awesome. If you’re a hopeless single 23 year old who has no clue after being single for a few years, while everyone you know is getting married, having kids, buying houses, have their life planned out and you’re just well me. I hope you don’t feel alone. I hope these blogs bring you comfort, education and most importantly I really do hope they make you laugh!

So to answer the question of why I blog. It’s because of you my readers and it’s also for my own sanity. Always blog from the heart! They say the best writers write about what they know. I know my own life and how utterly clueless I am in this big world! So always write from the heart because the heart never lies.

Until next time!

Toe.

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