July 28, 2020

100+ Days of my Lockdown Journey

100+ Days of Lockdown

We in the UK have been in Lockdown for well over 100 days now. I look back at the emotional rollercoaster of my personal journey through Lockdown, from riding the busiest time in work to struggling with work-life balance to where I am right now. I’m sure we’ve all had our own unique journeys through this historical period, here are my musings of mine.

A prelude to lockdown

“Yep! Go ahead book them, we need to get this sorted ASAP” I muse to Hannah, our Admin for the department. It had been an incredibly pressured and busy week, somehow the task of finding flights and booking them had fallen onto my young academic shoulders. It had been hurried and less than ideal preparation for an international field trip for many reasons outside of our control. Still, we had managed to get things in place. We were excited, if not a little stressed about having our first international field course to the Netherlands with our MSc Students. When I gave the go-ahead to spend a substantial amount of money on flights, Covid-19 wasn’t even named. Back then in early February, it was a new virus in China. Oh, another one of those viruses I thought to myself.

We’d been here before, SARS, Swine Flu, Bird Flu, Ebola, we know the drill.

Somewhere else gets a virus, everyone panics about imminent doom, it barely reaches our shores and eventually they get on top of it, and it all goes away. Nievity. Nievity on a vast global scale. I guess that outdated view of the world was our downfall, we, at least in the UK have had so many false dawns of pandemics that in our collective minds it became something that really did not concern us.

I distinctly remember being in A-Level Biology during the Bird Flu crisis, I remember our teacher talking about social distancing, football matches being cancelled and restaurants closing. It was scary as she mentioned if it got out of hand, that’s precisely what would happen to us. We talked about it at length one lesson about disaster management, nothing more back then in my mind as a perfect hypothetical scenario. Of course, it never came to much in the UK and we moved on.

As the weeks went by I noticed news coverage dedicated to this new virus was growing, Wuhan was in Lockdown, conspiracy theories of biological weapons and labs were rife, governments on the sly blaming other governments. The wet food market was closed, racist undertones in tweets emerged along the lines of “serves them right for eating bats”. But again, as the death count rose in China, it was still the same story as the others, it’s over there not here. As our field trip got closer, the cases started to rapidly spread and eventually the sit up and take notice, was the Lockdown in Lombardy, Italy. I had travelled to that stunning location only a few months before for the Italian Grand Prix, spending many days on Lake Como marvelling at the view and sipping intense, authentic Italian Espresso as immaculate Ferrari’s darted in and out of traffic and everyone was dressed to impress.

The images of such a location were transformed into a ghost town, a town that from my memory was so full of life was nothing more than an empty shell, the images of flash cars and people replaced with the horror images of ventilators and people dying alone in corridors. This was serious.

Part of my original blasé attitude was down to my Father, a senior paramedic of close to 40 years, trained in triage and to deal with the worst possible cases when he was a bronze commander. “Don’t worry, it’s blown out of proportion, it’s just awful flu” was what he was told at the start of the pandemic. Then they had another meeting as soon as Italy went into full Lockdown. My Father is someone who doesn’t show his emotions much, but this was now gravely serious, sitting down in the living room after the latest meeting things had rapidly changed. “This is going to be a disaster” are the words I most remember. The virus was no longer just flu, it was deadly. The NHS was woefully underprepared due to poor management and procurement of PPE. We still had some stores of PPE from the Ebola outbreak, so we were good for now, but that wouldn’t last. Hearing the worst from someone in the know is terrifying, especially as I watch the UK walk blindly into this pandemic. This was no longer a distant virus on someone else’s shores, it was rolling in, rapidly and taking as many as it could with it.

“Okay, we desperately need a Plan B guys” I let our team know that while we can still travel in the UK, the situation in Italy was dire, the information coming from my Dad was even worse, talk of lockdowns being official, death tolls skyrocketing. Under 48 hours to departure time a blanket email comes from the Vice-Chancellor,

all travel on University business is cancelled with immediate effect.

We were one of the first universities in the UK to make such a landmark call. I was due to fly to Canada in a few months to lead a workshop and meet up with my family in Canada, people I desperately miss was now taken away from me. A field trip I had planned so much for and to be cancelled with less than 48 hours notice. As the UK had not banned travel yet, we lost a lot of money, something I felt a lot of responsibility for, but who would have known that this would happen?

Within 48 hours the team had developed from scratch a fantastic virtual online trip to replace what would have happened, an accurate measure of the dedication we as academics go through to make sure our students get the best experience. If you were to look at it, you’d be mistaken for thinking it had taken months to make. It was beyond amazing and a true testament to the skill of those I feel so very honoured to call my colleagues.

As the weeks progressed, it became clear that Lockdown was inevitable, that university would close. We would be shifting to online learning. Fortunately, as a department, we were in the best place possible. Part of my PhD was on online learning, and it was a significant player in me getting this position for the new MSc FRAME course, which was mostly delivered entirely online since October. As a department, we had months of experience of delivering lectures and pastoral care remotely through Microsoft Teams. At the time, an odd things to do, outsiders. Little did we know how vital those few months were as a department learning and adapting to online learning.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to us when the notification of needing to be out by a specific time and no one knew when we would go back, but it did. A University without students in it, unprecedented. I was nervous, my job is temporary, contract due for renewal in the summer I surely felt this would be the last time I would be in my office. I was scared about job security, afraid about my family working in the NHS on the frontlines, scared myself for catching it and ending up as a statistic.

I had spent over 18 hours working on a document, along with my closest FRAME colleagues documenting everything we’ve learned about online delivery, I made Youtube tutorials, a comprehensive report. A day later, our department had everything they had to know, I ran MS Teams tutorials with others in the department. Within 24 hours of notification of Lockdown, we were the only department to complete a full day of teaching online, not one single lesson was cancelled. Something that apparently by some, wasn’t a possible feat until Easter. Again, the absolute testimony to the professionalism, adaptability and student-focused mindset that all in Team GID have.

We had a final meeting, we said our goodbyes to one another, the weight of my box of all of my office things in my arms. I didn’t know if and when I’ll be back, or if I’ll see these people in person again. I loaded my things up in the car on a grey, dull day and drove home.

Lockdown

That’s it, Lockdown officially enforced in the UK. Never in my generation or many generations before me had this ever occurred before. That hypothetical scenario we played out at A-Level was now a reality. Enforced staying at home, only essential shops open, air travel stopped, football cancelled. A new world had dawned.

At first, I was too preoccupied with getting into a rhythm of working from home. Something I absolutely detested the thought of. Home and Work-life are two separate things, and I always believed the two should rarely mix. I am an over-thinker, always thinking of things to improve and therefore work is never too far from my mind. However, on a less than ideal day in the office, I can physically leave that space, jump in my car for my drive home music blasting, and then I’m home, 37 miles away from the office, I can switch off.

Now, my commute was two steps from my bed to my desk. No escape. This very laptop which was once a symbol of expression and leisure where I would write my novels and my blogs and edit my pictures was now a symbol of work and stress.

In the first few weeks of Lockdown, it was scary but peaceful. Shops were quiet although wearing gloves and a mask was a new thing. Roads were blissfully traffic-free on my bike rides, the weather was glorious as I would spend my days off on 5-mile hikes to the local nature reserve making the most of my one pass a day to leave the house. You can read my musing about the start of lockdown here: Covid-19: We are living in the pages of future history books

Then it all went south, rapidly. My mental health and physical health took a nosedive, really struggling to cope with working from home, all while the pressure increased as the workload which started off small exploded into full overdrive.

Working from home had gone from a leisurely pace to a full-on mad dash within a few days.

Lockdown came at the worst possible time for me, as my first year in the role, becoming assessment officer it is your job to ensure all the marks are correct for the end of module boards so students can get their degrees. A job that takes numerous people weeks of looking over computer screens and print outs to get right. Now, it was to be done remotely, with 500 checks and procedures to do, all the while delivering online learning to your students, answering 50 emails a day, being asked to do impossible things in unimaginable time scales, we know you’re busy but get this done asap became the new norm, and having meeting after meeting. On the worst day of Lockdown, I worked 21 hours. If I didn’t, things that needed to get done would not have happened. For close to two months, I worked 6 days a week (I get paid in my contract for 3!).

I don’t think any of us had ever worked as hard as this before. By the time it came to MAB I was borking in the shower every morning from stress, I felt exhausted, Ill, I still feel dodgy to this day, stress does some bad things to the body which takes a while to recover from. Not to mention the added stress of my mum being rushed into hospital, desperately ill and being told to expect the worst (thankfully after nearly a week in hospital she survived and is well on the mend!). I found new levels of stress that week!

After the worst of days i took myself off to the beach and had a complete mindset change

Then just like that, the academic year was over. My first academic year had gone in the blink of an eye and what a crazy year it had been. All of a sudden, the email chatter died down, the MABs were done, we as a Team had worked to new levels. I know I am not the only one who worked stupid hours to ensure our students got the best experiences and that we delivered on our requirements. I had grown so much closer to my colleagues in those few months than I had in any of the months before. So much support and guidance from them. I looked forward to that 30 mins to an hour lunch club Teams call between us all.

I cannot stress enough how much I cherished the support and those moments as a team, some light relief in a soup of chaos.

I could not be more proud of the effort, dedication and support the whole of GID has put into lectures from Lockdown. We have worked as a fantastic and united team, every single one of us going above and beyond. People won’t see that, SMT won’t see it, Students don’t see it, but we know what we’ve done. During Lockdown, I managed to complete my first year, complete the MABs successfully, been apart of the FRAME team to get CiWEM Accreditation for many years to come, became Chair of the Ethics Committee and was nominated by my students for the Most Inspiring Lecturer of the year award. I am truly blessed. These experiences have made me more robust, and I know with this team behind me next year will be a breeze!

“Sometimes to reset your brain and recharge your soul, you need to climb up a mountain and be in nature”

Negatives and Benefits of lockdown life

In Lockdown I’ve missed birthdays of friends, I had my own quiet lockdown birthday turning 28. I’m used to spending my birthdays abroad but instead at home, although my family did everything to make it as unique as they could. I missed the birth of my best friends first child, I missed graduations and dear friends getting new jobs, all those moments missed. As stressful as it has been at times, there have been some real benefits to lockdown life, not least, the fantastic weather we’ve had! For the first time, I have a Tan! Even on the busiest and stressful of days, I made sure to spend some moments outside in the garden, admiring the blue sky, marvelling at the birds. Before life got crazy and since the term has ended, I’ve been on walks in nature, drinking it into my soul. From climbing mountains on my first day of leave to twitching owls in the evening to riding my bike and getting back into that again to recently taking up Yoga to get in shape and to shift the stress and crisp fuelled lockdown body.

Who knows when we’ll be back in the office? It changes weekly, August, September, January, Never? I’ve gotten into a good routine now of working set hours again, I no longer hate working from home (perhaps that’s Stockholm syndrome) in fact, I quite enjoy it. No longer the need for 5.30 a.m alarm calls and hour-long drive commutes. I’m saving a fortune on petrol which is helping me save for a deposit on a house. Walking downstairs, my Nespresso machine is right there, perfect coffee on tap, every time. When the workday is done, I don’t have to wait an hour to have food or to do something after the drive. I can close the laptop and head out on the bike or drive the 15 minutes to the beach to destress.

I’ve gotten into a pattern, a routine, a working life balance now that I appreciate, that works for me but by god has it taken a long time to get to this place.

We’ve all had our challenges in Lockdown, some at the start, some in the middle, some at the end. What I’ve come to appreciate is that there is a lot of support from others during this time. Those who haven’t bothered with you, you now know who you can rely on when the going gets tough. There is a collective we’re all in this together, we all share in each others pain and suffering as well as the little highs and wins along the way. It’s also okay to be productive one day and procrastinate the next. We’re not working from home, we’re living at work during a global pandemic.

Perhaps at the start of Lockdown, I was too harsh on myself, too much of that overachiever mentality of having to do everything perfectly and to standard. It’s a global pandemic, perhaps doing just enough is the new perfect?

While Lockdown slowly lifts, it will still be on for a while. I won’t venture to pubs or restaurants anytime soon. There will be a second wave, especially in winter, as the drum beats of that get louder just like they did before Lockdown. I won’t be ignoring those signs this time! I still hope that Emma and I can get to Iceland after our numerous cancelled trips this year, I hope we can in November. As a year without travel for me is unprecedented, but I guess it has helped my carbon footprint.

I expect to be in Lockdown again and working from home to be the new normal. I’ve gone to the edge and back, and now I know the limits. I’m confident that I can survive this new normal, I hope you can too. I had two weeks off to recharge, and I’ve been back at it for a few weeks now, preparing for the new term and year ahead, both in-person and virtually.

To all my readers, I wish you safety and the best of health, and hopefully, soon my blogs will be filled with travel and adventures again. Until then, stay safe.

Tony

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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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December 31, 2019

2010-2019 the decade of change and achievement

2019…The end of a terrific year but also the end of what has been quite the decade! Looking back on the past decade it’s actually been quite the whirlwind. If my 2010 self was to read what I was to do and become in the next nine years, I don’t quite think he’d believe it. I’ve been on a journey of transformation, I’m a million miles away from that jaded and lost boy in 2010. 2010 me was I feel looking back, an outsider who never really fitted in. Present but vacant, slightly out of sync with everyone else. Someone who knew what they wanted to be but was not in a place where they could be that. I started the decade, lost.

Some Happier 2010 times!

Some Happier 2010 times!

Some Happier 2010 times!

Its been well documented those who have followed me on this journey from day one about my disdain for sixth form and what went on in a particular classroom. This blog, while a million miles away from those early days of blog writing as a release and as a weapon, has its roots from the immaturity of sixth form. My passion for writing blogs was born out of that shitshow. There were many gems from Maricourt but there was a toxic group that I could not wait to leave behind.

Life was better at Uni!

My life got significantly better when at the start of the decade I went to University. I had felt like I was hemmed in, in school. Learn hard, put the effort in, get the grades, get out. That’s what school was to me. One of my standout moments of this decade was and will always be that first-year residential field trip to Slapton in Feb of 2011. This decade I’ve had a few vital and pivotal moments where if I had chosen the other side of the coin, the other decision, life would be vastly different today. The first of that, was that February night on a cold, windswept Slapton beach. I still remember it vividly, the fresh sea breeze that tickled your face, the gentle and rhythmic pulse of the distant lighthouse casting a beam of light across the sand. Looking up and taking in a deep breath of air, exhaling and watching it disappear into the most unbelievably clear sky I had ever seen. It felt like the entire universe was out that night, the bluest of blue stars twinkled above like diamonds.

Before that night, I was ready to quit University. I had made up my mind, it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t challenged enough, I was constantly ill, I hated the commute. I was all but done. This first-year field trip was in my mind, a swansong. It just turned out to my surprise to be the start of an epic journey in academia. That night as we pulled up some driftwood and sat on large boulders, laughing and sharing stories into the night. I suddenly realised that with this group of people, we were all broken in some way and for the first time in my life, that wasn’t an issue. For the first time in such a long time, I had people around me who actually didn’t care about who you are or where in high school. They all had flaws as did I, and they didn’t care. They were human. I formed friendships that night that have lasted the sands of time. That field trip changed everything. I fell back in love with Geography because of that field trip, I realised that I could be who I wanted to be here, with these people.

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Sitting here now having completed a BSc, an MSc and recently a PhD, it seems crazy to me that I was so close to giving up all of that if it wasn’t for that goddamn beach and the chats that night. Not to forget Susan (you had to be there).

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Undergraduate years of 2010-2013 was a period of some crazy emotions. Once I committed to academic life, I found a place I could call home. I found something I was good at and oh boy it was one hell of a good time! Every day in Uni was a laugh with my Uni pals, Anthony, Alex, Mary, Hannah, Chloe, Stacey. The latter, well we all know how that particular episode of the decade turned out. I had fallen in love. I let my walls down 100% again for someone for the first time in a few years and for those two years it was awe-inspiring, it was beautiful and it was terrifying all at the same time. As time has passed and the wounds have healed, I can look back on those times with a real warm glow. Now longer jaded by heartache and bitterness. I owe her a lot for building the foundations of the person I am today. There are a lot of aspects of me today that define me that were unlocked by her. For one small example, cooking. I couldn’t cook beans on toast before I met her and would never venture outside of any dish that wasn’t made in the British isles! Yet with an Italian passion for food, that was unlocked in me. Food and cooking is a huge part of who I am now. I love to cook and I’m always cooking food for family and friends and dishes from all over the world!

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Then in 2013, as I was feeling on top of the world…it all came crashing down. The rug was whipped from under my feet. The breakup hit me out of the blue and knocked me for six for years! 2013-14 was brutal. I was depressed, everything was a struggle. Looking back now, I see why I struggled so much with it. As a very guarded person, I felt like I was betrayed when I let all of my walls down, the real emotional me was vulnerable and to then have that heart stood on in the fashion that she did was tough. Did it help that she got with the guy she was ‘just friends with at the party’ that I didn’t go to, two weeks after she broke it up out of the blue? No. No, it didn’t. Did it also help my recovery that we shared every class together and friendship group for that final year? No, that didn’t help either.

Happier times in 2013

Truth be told though I was seething, I was angry, I was hurt. But actually, I was mad at myself. I am an achiever. It’s what I do, I set a goal and I will achieve it. I have a long list of honours, accolades and achievements. Yet, one had always evaded me. I would trade in all of my awards to just be loved by someone, to grow old with them and to have my own family. When she ended it, to me, it was a colossal failure on my part. It’s something that I did or didn’t do, it was my fault in some way is how I perceived it. I had a taste of that ultimate goal for it to no longer exist. It was tough.

2013 was by far the most challenging year of the decade for me. A week after I was hit by that out of the blue break up, I was informed that my eyes where 0.5 outside of the limit for becoming an Air Traffic Controller. A dream job that I had worked towards ever since I was little. My choices in school and even degree level were all geared up towards becoming an Air Traffic Controller. It’s all I ever wanted to do. In the space of 7 days, I had lost two dreams, out of the blue. I was once again, lost.

From 2010 to the start of 2013, I had discovered for the most part who I was as a person. I grew very self-assured of myself. 2013 knocked me right back to 2010. I didn’t know me anymore. I had spent years having such confidence in myself to looking in the mirror and not even recognising who I was. Every day was an effort. Academia became a lifeline again, amongst all of this dissertations had begun. The only way out of this hole I thought was to put everything into that dissertation. One last hurrah. Do well in this, get a good degree, build myself back up again, reinvent me again. I used all those emotions of anger and hurt and turned them into productivity. Which worked. I aced that dissertation and in the process fell in love with research. I was selected to go and present it at the biggest undergraduate conference in Plymouth. Backed by my supervisor and my friends, I didn’t think I was worthy but they believed. They pushed me to do it. From the back of that, I was selected to present that research in Parliament and came in the top 20 UK undergraduate researchers of the year. Not bad work for when I was at my lowest. That was the slow road to recovery.

Final year was a slog, but I finished with a 2:1. The goal was done. I had never felt prouder than that first graduation day, looking back at the certificate. It didn’t to me denote a degree, whenever I think back to my BSc days, it indicates all those made changes in my life, the soaring highs and greatest of lows. To me, it reminds me that I’m glad that I have that no matter how shit I feel, I have that inner stubbornness that just will never, ever, give up. No matter how much the odds are stacked against me. You pick yourself up, you keep working hard, you never give up.

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2014 and 15 were all about my Masters Things they never tell you about when starting a Masters Degree. Because I was still recovering from 2013 I don’t think at the time I really appreciated those years for what they were. A period of reflection, rebuilding, rebranding, regrowing. By the time our first residential to the desert in October came around, I saw the MSc as a new start. That summer I had clarity, I had dealt with a lot of stuff, I for the first time actually accepted me for me. I now knew what I wanted out of life and one of those things was to collect degrees. I loved research, I wanted to become a researcher. I wanted to help people in a way that I knew I could, via research. The MSc was academically very challenging but I adored that challenge. Being pushed every day intellectually was fun! It was such a great topic to study and my fellow classmates where legends. I feel really bad that we all never really stayed in touch but they were so perfect for that part of my life. I am grateful for every single one of them. That desert field trip without a doubt is the funniest field trip I have ever been on. God, I loved that course!2014…a year of rebuilding and success!

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2015 came another of those giant what-if moments, those crossroad decisions, a flip of a coin, a fork in the road of life. I’d finished my Masters, I’m now healed, I’m back to myself, I have the whole world ahead of me. Then the two jobs come at once. 29k 3 year contract in Nottingham with a global consultancy firm, or a 16k part-time tempory one year job as a research assistant. I was utterly torn between the logically me and the emotional me. Head and my Dad, wherein the consultancy job. No question. Financial security, job security, job progression, independence, moving out, new city. Yet, my heart wasn’t in it. I had fallen in love from Undergrad with research, but it was a lot of work, it didn’t pay well and there was no guarantee it would last longer than a year. I was conflicted, my parents were conflicted. Take the Nottingham job and I would be leaving home, I’d be leaving Liverpool, my life and I’d be on a career path in environmental consultancy.

On the other hand, take the RA job, stay at home but do something I was madly passionate about and really enjoyed but for pretty crap pay.

Then that talk at the river happened. Both of us, me and Chloe at a crossroads in life, both with massive decisions to make. Chloe, I have no doubt is my guardian angel. At the beach in Slapton, there during the hard times, there again at the river now a big life decision was to be made. My confidant, my guiding light, my soundboard. I summed Chloe up and the rest of my close friends up so well in this blog here:My dedication to the inner circle! After hours for the first time in a while, I had clarity over that decision. My mind was made up all because of her, I made the decision. I declined the consultancy job and for the first time ever the logical me went with my heart. I took the RA job. I turned onto the path of academia which has led me to where I am today.

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2015-2016 where the RA years (My 2016, a cracking year! ) (My Facebook status’ of the year and what a story it tells of 2015.) An incredibly rewarding, stressful, intense training I could ever receive being an RA in the department. I thought my development rate was staggering from BSc to MSc, but as an RA, I developed more in those years there than I had all the other years combined. I adored that job, as much as it was mental! It cemented to me that this is what I wanted to do as a career now. The research was home, I had found not where I expected to be but clearly where I was meant to be. I worked on a vast amount of projects, learnt so much and got to work with the most incredibly supportive colleagues a young RA could ever ask for! I was pushed to my limits and beyond in that job. It only became apparent when I started my PhD how much training I had unknowingly been through as the departments RA. I was a seasoned researcher soldier by the time the PhD wars came. I felt like a general when I walked into PhD life. To this day, those intense years where the best in terms of training for research and my career and it put me in a great position.

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Here we go again, three-year cycles in life, all going well and here comes the downer. Funding cuts across the University. RAs well we’re disposable. First to be cut was me. Here I am again, back at this familiar road. Find something I’m good at and I like and here comes something to take it away. Oddly, I was different this time. The disappointment didn’t come as a surprise, things were going too well so I was expecting this to occur. But more than that, after so many disappointments and setbacks in my life I was just like meh, okay, it’s another one, I’ll deal with it like I always do. No worries! I was gutted to be leaving the department but I also felt that maybe this was a blessing in disguise. A new chance to see this as rather than a setback, a new adventure, a new challenge. Since 2013 I’ve had the mindset of turning negatives into positives, even if that is only a small positive. I had learnt all that I could there, I couldn’t progress without a PhD. So PhD it is.

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I’ve always been a firm believer that if you have the right attitude in life, if you work hard, then you build a door. If you do that, then life will give you opportunities and if you’ve worked hard and in the right way, then the opportunity will come and knock at that door that you’ve built. The day after I was told I was going to be unemployed, the PhD scholarship at LJMU was posted. My boss saw it, sent it to me. I quote “Jesus Tony, this PhD looks like it’s been written for you! Drones in fieldwork! You should apply”. There was an opportunity, knocking very loudly! I was so very nearly not going to apply until my work mum Sara knocked some sense into me (one of the very many unsung heroes of this decade for me! Thank you Sara!). I applied, did the interview, got the scholarship and the rest is history as they say!

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2016-2019 and that’s where we end this decade. The PhD years. These past three years would never have happened without that decision way back in 2010 or that one in 2015. It’s a weird life when you think about it. If I had my way, I like to think I would have been an air traffic controller now, with a wife and maybe a kid. But life has a funny way of getting you where you need to be, not where you want to be. Here I am, in 2019, as a Doctor. I never thought or even entertained the thought that one day I would be Dr Cliffe, I’d be an editor of a Journal and a Senior Lecturer at 27 years old. Yet, for all of that journey, I am immensely proud that I am here. That I never gave up and that I feel I am where I’m meant to be right now. The past three years have undoubtedly been the best of the decade. I have so much love for my time on the PhD and the people who were in it My final day and my goodbye. I have grown again as a person to someone who I feel is the best and most rounded version of me there has ever been. The past three years have been the most intellectually challenging journey. It’s also been the most personally challenging as I’ve worked towards the highest academic qualification you can get. It’s been a fabulous time, especially all the friendships, relationships and travel that it brought me!

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However, the past three years would not have been possible without my fellow PGRs, especially H105. They have been my rock throughout all of this! Friends that I know I will have forever! The battle of the Viva and my ode to H105 A perfect weekend: A wedding and Friendships Yet, they’re not alone in my thoughts as I look back on this decade. You see, for every fail and trust me I have 1000 fails to every one of my successes. You see, whether I’ve failed or I’ve achieved I’ve never been alone. I’ve had people in my life for those ten years who’ve been through everything, I’ve had people who’ve come and gone. Each time was leaving a piece of them with me that has changed me. People have left me with positives and some with lessons. I’ve had so many unsung heroes on this journey, so many people who when I lost faith, put their faith in me. I’ve had the most amazing mentors who backed me when I didn’t back myself, who pushed me beyond my perceived limits to see what I was truly capable of. This decade is littered with the most amazing, kind-hearted, dedicated, and loyal people I have ever met. I have had friends like Chloe, Emma, Hannah, Luke, Laura, Vic, Katie, the list goes on who have stood by me through thick and thin. Who has never waivered, who always believe in me and what I stand for. Without out, I wouldn’t be possible.

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I feel as I end this decade that I am incredibly wealthy in terms of the company that I now keep. 2010 me was a lost boy who didn’t fit in. 2019 me is a man who has found a home, a family. I may not be where I thought I would be, but I’m where I feel I’m meant to be.

Let’s see what the new decade holds, 2010-2010 was the decade of achievement…I’m ready for the adventure of this new decade. What it will be called I guess I’ll find out in 10 years, but I am ready for it to be written!

Decade of Achievement

A – Levels
UK’s first parliamentary school speaker award winner
UK Good Citizen of the year award
BSc Geography
Novel published on Amazon
Top 20 UK undergraduate researchers (2013)
MSc Sustainability
Outstanding Academic Support staff overall winner 2016
Editor of IJSaP
4 papers published
PhD
Driving Licence
Senior Lecturer
Deputy Chair of Ethics
Post Graduate Assessment Officer

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August 18, 2019

Autumn is around the corner. My four likes and dislikes of this season.

The nights are now getting longer, and thus, the days are shorter. There is a noticeable coolness to the winds that flow in off the Atlantic now, the first detectable signs of change in the colours of the leaves. Autumn is just around the corner.

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For some, autumn brings people joy and cheer, a change in the season, those turning colours of the leaves a welcome sign to usher in the colder weather as a respite from the summer. Not that we’ve had a particularly good end to the summer! It’s felt more autumnal in August this year than it does in November! Autumn, or fall, if you like saying words wrong, if I had to rank it, I’d place it at number 3 on my list. Spring is by far my favourite season when everything is warming up, nature is coming alive, and there is an excitement for the summer ahead, the longer days, the hot weather, and days out in the sun. Beautiful! Autumn, however, don’t get me wrong has its perks, way more than winter does (god I hate winter!) but it’s not as good as spring or summer. So, before you can say pumpkin spice latte, autumn will be here. So here are my four not so favourite things about this season and my, to its credit, four things I do like about this season.

Dislikes

I’m aware that many of my dislikes for autumn are probably some of your favourite things about it. You’re wrong, but that’s fine, I can live with that. Oddly, some of my dislikes have an alter ego side to them and form the basis of some of my likes for this season. All will become clear, I promise!

The Long Nights and the Weather

In at number one is my number one dislike of autumn. The shorter days and long nights. It does my Seasonal Affective Disorder no good at all! The long days of summer, I pine for, the bright blue azure skies and the twilight of what little darkness hours exist in the summer. Autumn that all changes. You get up in the dark and by the time you get home from work, it’s nearly dark. It makes me feel like I’m trapped in a lightless cardboard box. Grim. I’m the type of person who runs hot to touch, which means I always feel cold, so I dread the colder weather coming in. At least now I don’t look out of place wearing jumpers and gilets, so silver lining I guess! I love the weather, but I suppose you might have already figured that out if my social media posts are anything to go by. Sure, I love storms they’re exciting, especially thunderstorms but in autumn the heat and the energy in the atmosphere dissipates, the high pressure forms low pressure and we go from clear blue skies to occasional epic thunderstorms, to an endless conveyor belt off of the Atlantic of cold wind, torrential rain, and endless days of cloud. If you’re lucky it might be spiced up with some fog or as they say in Newfoundland, Canada, you’re blessed with a million-dollar day. Which basically means it’s a blessing when you get a sunny day.

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Friday morning is looking mental on the latest weather models. Peak wind gusts over Liverpool of 90 mph!! Fack. If that's accurate tomorrow all hell will break lose on Friday. Today's peak wind gust was 50mph and did a lot of damage. 😲

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 19, 2018 at 1:38pm PDT

Wind and endless rain and no blue skies makes S.A.D. worse. How anyone can enjoy cold, wet and grey weather is beyond me, I think you need to be sectioned. There is nothing fun about it at all, and I cannot fathom why anyone prefers that over warm blue skies!

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Sunset and raindrops

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 18, 2018 at 11:10am PDT

Everything is a variety of Pumpkin

I get it, a critical autumnal event is Halloween and the tradition of pumpkin picking and carving is I admit, a fun thing to do. Pumpkins are there to be carved, have a candle shoved inside of it for one night and then disposed of into the compost heap because that’s where these weird orange balls deserve to be. They smell horrific when you’re carving them, and they taste as good as they smell. Awful. In recent years and I can only imagine this is the U.K.’s attempt to become more mainstream America (we have kids graduating with cap and gowns now from Nursery now, so why the hell not, next we’ll be buying guns in our supermarkets and blaming video games for mass shootings) that autumn signals retailers to add Pumpkin Spice to ordinary things. Pumpkin does not belong in coffee, how dare you tarnish the wonders of that beautiful hot bean juice with that filth! A delicious blueberry muffin is replaced by a Pumpkin Muffin. Candles are sprinkled with Pumpkin spice, Pumpkin bread, Pumpkin, Pumpkin, Pumpkin! I don’t actually think anyone actually enjoys a Pumpkin spiced anything, they just say they do to look like they’re cool Autumn Hipsters. Sorry, I feel I may have needed to get that off my chest.

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Cliffe pumpkins

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 31, 2017 at 11:34am PDT

Excuses for public transport

Granted, hopefully, this year now that I’ve passed my test and will have a car that this won’t be such a bugbear of mine, but as the seasons change, I can hear that big fat book of public transport excuses opening with a thud. Autumn brings in the wonderful excuses for those who operate public transport, (not naming names or pointing the finger here, well known North West train company *cough*) to cover up for their lack of service providing. “What shall it be today, John? The 16.45 is cancelled because we forgot to staff it”… “Meh. Autumn? Oh yeah! Leaves on the line! Remember, it’s the wrong type of leaves! Don’t forget to tell the passengers that!”

“So this week we’ve had, the wrong rain, the wrong ice, the wrong wind, the wrong frost and now the wrong leaves? They suspect nothing!”

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Sooound. Didn't want to leave work today anyway…

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 19, 2018 at 6:54am PDT

Autumn just gives people an excuse to cancel things, cancel plans and gives everyone the perfect excuse, just blame it on the weather!

The changing of the leaves

Number four is one of my likes for a different reason, but here I will address why I dislike it. I hate it because I find it so incredibly sad! Spring and summer are so full of life and autumn is a swan song for all the plants and animals. Some creatures only survive the summer before dying, and the leaves on those big old mighty Oak show off with their most dazzling and spectacular colours, all that pizazz just before they lose it all.

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Autumn walks . . #fall #autumn #love #nature # #photography #instagood #beautiful #Canada #naturephotography #art #instagram #like #beauty #orange #forest #walk #hiking #path #trees #photographer #october #photoshoot #leaves

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 13, 2018 at 3:34pm PDT

One reason I absolutely despise winter is that everything is so bare and dead. Lifeless trees, lifeless light and gloomy clouds. Eugh! I just always feel despondent in autumn when the leaves change, the exotic birds fly back home leaving our shores, and bird song which is so loud in summer is replaced by the odd chirp here and there. Depressing!

Likes

Admittedly, those four dislikes above used to be a lot more, but as I’ve grown older while autumn will always remain firmly in 3^rd place, I have grown fonder over the years of it. So, here are some of my most liked things about the season.

Photography

A passion of mine is photography and autumn to me, is the best time of the year for it. Sure, summer you can get out more to photograph things, but often it’s the wrong type of light. Summer sun can often be too bright, too harsh, which ruins your contrasts in shots and it has a cool feeling to it. Plus, landscapes are often very monochromatic, they’re just blue and then bright green for the leaves. Autumn is full of colour, the sky changes to a different blue, the green of the trees changes to deep reds, oranges, purples and pinks and the light is softer. It gives a photographer a treasure trove of photographic opportunities.

I love autumn for the colours it gives you, while it does make me sad I take comfort in capturing natures beauty before it goes super bland in winter.

The Sunsets and the night sky

In a similar vein to Number one, my favourite time of day is twilight, always has been. There is something extraordinary about everything being backlit and silhouetted against the sky. In autumn, twilight gets dragged out as the angle of the sun gets lower, and due to this, before nightfall in autumn often offers up the most spectacular of sunsets and sunrises. With colder, denser air and the low angle of the sun, more light rays get scattered, giving me one of my favourite sights, Mother Nature, at her most glorious. Autumn offers up the most amazing colours you could ever see in the sky, and that makes me happy! Long after the sun is set, the night sky often has a deep soft glow to it before turning purple and then black. Stunning.

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What an amazing sunrise!!! . . #sunrise #clouds #morning #autumn

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 24, 2018 at 10:50pm PDT

Those of you know me well know that a big passion of mine is Astrophotography. Astrophotography for me starts to come into its own in autumn. Yes, technically winter is the most perfect time for it due to it being the clearest of skies in the atmosphere and the most exciting in terms of what to see, at least autumn offers some form of warmth. I can spend a good few hours outside in the autumn photographing the stars compared to maybe an hour or so in the winter.

In summer, there is often too much haze for clear night sky photography, not to mention that this far north that you may not know this, but in Liverpool, we don’t officially have night time from about Mid-June till September.

We stay in Nautical and Astronomical Twilight, so it’s often not dark enough to photograph stars. While it may seem dark outside to you, the camera still looks like it’s almost day time. So hurray for night time, never hear me say that again in any other context!

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Caught a satellite tonight!

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 10, 2018 at 2:55pm PDT

The Cosy Feeling, cold weather and warm jumpers

The weather, oh, we’ve been here before, right? Obsession alert! While often the weather is pants in autumn, it does usually offer up some of the clearest and bluest of skies. Not to mention those sunsets and star-studded skies I love so much. But, there is also something incredibly cosy and special about autumn that, as I’ve got older, I’ve grown to look forward to. While nothing will ever replace the feeling of warm sunshine and wind on my skin, I love wearing shorts and t-shirts! I must admit that I secretly look forward to wearing chunky knit jumpers again. I love wearing big thick boots, warm jeans, gloves, scarfs, mix and matching many blazers and coats in an outfit and above all, the cosiness of a beanie hat.

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-5c wind chill selfie. . . #Travel #canada #travelling #exploring #explorer #adventure #landscape #landscapelovers #selfie

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 13, 2017 at 2:02pm PDT

Plus, it’s the perfect excuse for me to go full Geographer and wear boots, fleece lined walking pants and various fleeces and waterproofs. Yes! Love the adventurer look!

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Exploring the black volcanic sands of Iceland. . . #travel #Iceland #travelling #adventure #explore #volcanic #beach #blackandwhite #photography #canon📷 #nature #naturephotography #sky #skylovers #clouds #cloudlovers #canada #landscape #landscapelovers #landscapephotography

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 12, 2017 at 3:51pm PDT

There is something special about that nip in the air, that cold that stings your cheeks when you get inside, the smell of the fire crackling or the warm caress of the heating, the crunch of the frost underfoot and that no better feeling of when it is frosty outside or the wind and rain is howling against your window, and you look outside from the warmth of your bed. Bliss!

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Sunrise and a rainstorm. . . #sunlight #sunrise #morning #storm #rain

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 13, 2017 at 11:24pm PDT

There is something also about autumn that brings the kid out in you. Piles of leaves on the floor are impossible not to kick, pumpkins have to be picked, and fireworks set off. Autumn still awakens that little kid in me, the one who knows that just around the corner is winter and winter means Christmas. Yay! Autumn is super cosy.

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Crunch of the frost

The food

With colder weather means a better appetite. Throw out those salads because you no longer need a beach-ready body, you need a hibernation ready body! Jumpers and thick coats hide a multitude of sins and food is just way better in autumn and winter.

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Steak and Guinness pie. Can't get any more Irish than that 😉 #foodporn #instafood

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Sep 2, 2017 at 10:33am PDT

When it’s too hot, you turn your back on cosy and comforting foods for salads, B.B.Q.s and vegetables. In winter, there is nothing more comforting than a giant bowl of chunky soup and crusty bread to dip into it. Hearty meals like scouse, stew and pies become the go-to on a cold day. Drinks all suddenly appear to be mulled, and I get to drink my favourite autumn/winter drink, Hot Ribena.

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Winter is here when the hot cherry juice comes out 😍

A post shared by Dr Anthony Cliffe (@ac2348) on Oct 21, 2017 at 7:41am PDT

Yaaaas! I’m ready for it! While summer isn’t over yet (did it ever really start? Am I right?!) There will still be the occasional hot spell for us to enjoy, but the inevitable is just around the corner. Autumn is nearly here, the long nights, the pumpkin spice and the big coat season is fast upon us!

Is Autumn your favourite season or is it your worst? Let me know in the comments and why!

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August 16, 2019

A dedication to the mentors

A sign in my kitchen states ‘Behind every successful person lies a substantial amount of coffee’ while I agree that may well be the case, it is missing a sentence. That sentence should be “and a series of mentors who have inspired, developed and took a chance on that person”.

In my latest new series of dedication blogs, the first of which is dedicated to these five amazing individuals: My dedication to the inner circle! this one is dedicated to many people who, in a professional context have either inspired, developed or taken a chance on me as mentors. Despite being full of over-self confidence, I’m fully aware that my successes are not down to me alone. Hard work, a massive slice of luck and a number of dedicated mentors, have made me who I am today. I’ve been very fortunate to have had the guidance or the backing of a number of good mentors over the years. Too many, sadly to put in this blog. I’ve had mentors from football coaches as a kid to my recent supervisory team, all of whom have played an equally important part in my development. For example, my last supervisory team have had a considerable hand in my PhD success, but they know that and I’ve written about them in my PhD blogs. But, just like the first dedication blog I thought I’d pick this time, six people who I’d like to say thanks to, who I don’t often write about.

When you think of a typical mentor, you probably think of usually someone who is older, wiser and ultimately someone who you respect. Mentors can inspire you to be better, they can demand and push you to be better and ultimately, every mentor sees something in you that you fail to see in yourself. Mentors you don’t have to get along with or even like necessarily (but it does help), but you respect them. The mentors in this blog some I got on really well with and ultimately had a great working relationship with, some even became friends. Some, I had no formal working relationship with, and some I absolutely hated!

Inspiration

A good mentor will often unlock hidden potential, or part of yourself that you didn’t know existed before. They’ll ignite a fire and a drive in you because they’ve been so inspirational, either in their demeanour or in whatever it is they do. For this, I often think of two teachers that I had in High School who inspired two significant parts of my identity, Geography and Writing.

Ask any Geographer and long after their degrees they’ll still strongly identify themselves as a proud geographer. Regardless of age, fierce debate and banter between the fractions of Geographers will always be had, and god help it if you proclaim a Human Geographer as a Physical one! Or vice a Versa. I’ve always had a passion for Geography as a subject, and it’s not solely down to my Geography Teacher Mr Naughton. My love for the subject started way earlier when, as a small child, I discovered this vast, imposing dusty Atlas in our attic. I can still smell that book now as I turned its pages, it was old, so ancient! But I remember flicking through the pictures of all the different countries, reading about the vastly different landscapes and it’s people. I was hooked. The sense of adventure, a world was waiting for me to explore. Of course, this was in the days of pre-internet, a dusty Atlas and Encarta 95 was all my child mind had in my pursuit of epic travels and adventure.

Mr Naughton, however, brought the subject to life. No longer was it on the pages of a dusty Atlas and a fanciful overactive imagination of my child self, it was now real. I’ve never met a teacher who was so enthusiastic about the subject, the proudest of Geographers. Mr Naughton really fostered that passion for the subject, little did I know that I’d go on to do it at GCSE, A-Level, Degree Level, Masters Level and then finally, PhD level! My long journey as a proud geographer started with the inspirational Mr Naughton.

So while I’m a proud geographer and always will be, I’m also a passionate writer. I write blogs and novels for fun, and that comes down Mrs Bygroves. Mrs Bygroves was a strict teacher, the scousest of scouse accents, hard but fair. As I explained in my blog about why I write: Why do I write blogs? It’s a window to the emotional me! It was her who pulled me to one side after my English GCSE coursework and told me I had a gift for the written word and that I should write novels and stories for others to enjoy. So I did. I wrote my first novel and published my second on Amazon. I had discovered a critical skill that I never knew I really had, a passion for conveying stories and emotions, something that is now a massive part of my identity is all down to Mrs Bygroves and her seeing something in me, that I didn’t know myself.

Push you to your limits

So while mentors should be inspirational and make you see something in yourself, they can often go about it in different ways. Some will nurture and foster it in a friendly manner to get you to be the best you can be. Others will be harsh, demanding, thankless and at times make you hate them with every fibre of your being. At the time you wonder why they’re picking on you, why are they so harsh on you compared to everyone else and why do you not get the praise that everyone else does. Then you realise when you do reach the top of your game that they did that to push you. They saw your maximum potential and that you were way below their standards and the only way to get you to push past what you thought was your limit was to be cruel to be kind.

I’ve had two mentors like that in my life, my old commanding officer in the Air Training Corps and my former Personal Academic Tutor who became my boss as an RA. Two older men who’s stature and stance oozed authority and wisdom. Two men who have pushed me further mentally than anyone has before and probably ever will. Two people for some unknown reason I desperately wanted to impress, to prove myself to and to be acknowledged. But this mentor taught me the very definition of pushing the limits.

It may come as a shock to some of you to know that I wasn’t always the over self-confident, outspoken person I am today. In fact, many years ago, I lacked a lot of confidence in myself and around others. That all changed with one man. As one of my COs, he was always on my back throughout training and day to day life. Throwing me into the deep end with things, leading tasks, getting my voice heard. ATC rarely gave out compliments to any of us, I guess that’s the RAFs way of making you want to be better. When it did come, it was often short and curtailed (tradition of stiff British upper lip I suspect) but rarely was it ever directed in my direction. Which conflicted me. I keep getting asked to do these new tasks for which I seemed to be good at, but there was no confirmation or praise from those above. That irritated me in a way that made my already stubborn self, even more determined to succeed.

A turning point in my self-confidence comes to mind as clear as day. We were on deployment for a week on an SAS training camp in the depths of Shropshire on a bitterly cold and snowy February. We’d spent all day and night evading the infamous Landy force across the vast rolling hills and outbuildings of the training ranges. I’d been put in charge of navigation, faces covered in camo paint, boots covered in slush and mud and near hypothermic, we achieved our objective. Rescued the downed pilot and got back to base without being captured. My first real sense of achievement by putting myself out there in a position of leadership. By the time we arrived back at the barracks in the early hours, we barely got any sleep before being rudely awoken by a room inspection. I’d been chosen by him to be in command of our small dorm in a barracks. Again, I felt woefully underqualified. He comes in, nods to others a job well done, looks at my boots which to me were spotless “Dirt on them, Cliffe. Do them again! Press-ups outside, now”. “Yes, Sir!” I replied through gritted teeth. He hated me, I thought!

A few hours later, we were kitted up to go on the range. By this time the snow had started again, an icy wind ripped through the standard-issue kit with such ease I might as well have been naked for all the warmth it offered. After dissembling and cleaning the L98 and SA80 rifles in record time (still no recognition for that) as a troop, we headed out into the freezing snow on the range. To this day, it is still one of my most epic and coolest memories, the sound of gunfire, the snow falling, a Lynx army helicopter hovering off to one side, the recoil of the weapon in your shoulder. So.Much.Awesomeness!

While firing down the range, my fingers turning to frostbite (You’ve never felt anything colder than a trigger on a rifle in the snow!) in my peripheral vision I could see hands raised to the left and right of me, muffled shouts of “Jam!” and the range officer coming over to each individual. I was an awful shot, a sniper or expert marksmen I most certainly was not but I kept firing, with each shot pulling the bolt back and watching as the expended shell casing flicked and spun in the air. Load, breathe, hold breath, squeeze the trigger, recoil, bolt. Repeat, until that click on the rifle meant all my rounds in the rifle had been expended into the target a few hundred yards away. I raise my hand and raise my rifle over my shoulder to show the range officer that my rifle was empty. “Jam?… Oh, all done? Report to the CO” and with a slap on my back I exited the range, still noticing various hands raising and the range officer moving in to unjam the guns. The rest of the squad still laying prone into the snow.

Then there he was, immaculately dressed, a warm thermos in his hand steeming in the cold weather, as I present my rifle to him through chattering teeth, god I had never been so cold!

“Sir. All rounds fired, no Jam. Sir”

He gave a raised smile, which was so rare that I didn’t know if I had indeed become delirious with hypothermia, and in the most typical British Officers voice exclaims “Only one not to Jam your weapon, Cliffe. I expected absolutely nothing less from you. You’d have been the only one not to be killed. Congratulations. Dismissed”.

To me, that was the biggest compliment I had ever been given by him! That night we received word that some of us where being selected to head down south to RAF Lyneham to fly in a C130 Hercules. An unbelievable opportunity! He read the names off of the 10 lucky few, I was number 10! The next day I remember looking out of the back of the C130 as we raced over the Bristol Channel at 1000 feet. Over the rush of adrenaline, air and incredible noise of the four engines he says “Cliffe! This is what happens when you believe in your abilities. I pushed you so hard so that you’d become that. You’ve pushed yourself and others this trip to be better, I’m proud of you. Enjoy this! I’m putting you forward for the NCO course” and with a salute and a handshake it finally all made sense. I had a perceived physical and mental limit, but his was way beyond that, and I needed that tough love to reach it. It was the first time I backed myself and truly knew my capabilities. From then on he was still as hard as ever but was more forthcoming with the odd compliment, I flew with him often, practising flying over the North West of England, always demanding but boy did I learn a hell of a lot from him! I owe a lot to my years to him and to the RAF ATC in general. It taught me mental strength, leadership, the ability to see the strengths and weaknesses of others, teamwork and plus the fantastic days flying aircraft and shooting weapons. Closest I ever got to be being a badass! They were the best of days!

Take a chance

So some mentors inspire you and some push you whereas others they toss their chips into the ring and take a gamble on you. This is a dedication to the mentors who placed their faith in you by taking some sort of risk and hoping it would pay off.

The epitome of that was my Maths teacher, Mr Coggin. He made a decision, a gamble, that ultimately had such a significant influence on my academic career. Coggin was a bit weird, a proper eco nut, way before it was socially acceptable or hipster to care about the environment. He was strange but really cared for his students, he had an engaging teaching style, but ultimately, maths was life to him. Maths, well we’ve never really got on, that and spelling are often my Achilles heel. Give me time and a pen and paper, and I’m okay, mental maths? Nope. No chance! As we got closer to year 9 SATs exams things were not going too well in maths. For those of you who don’t know, SATs were a form of exams taken in year 9 which based on your performance you got put into sets, 1 being the top, 5 being the bottom. Only sets 1 and 2 would be entered into the higher GCSE papers where you could get from A* to fail, whereas sets 3 to 5 would be entered into the intermediate and lower papers where the top grade you could achieve was a C. Therefore, in principle, easier exam but no higher than a C regardless if you aced it.

Each teacher in English, Maths and Science had to make a decision on sets before the SATs exam. I was struggling in maths and not for my lack of trying either. I knew how essential maths was as a subject. At this point, I still had dreams of being an Air Traffic Controller, I wanted to do science at GCSE and A-Level. While a C in GCSE maths is fine, I didn’t want to be a C student, I wanted to be more than that. I knew I needed a good SAT score to get into a top set, so that I could take the higher papers and get the As and Bs I wanted for A level and therefore get into University. I remember him breaking the news to me that he was considering dropping me down a set so that I’d find it more accessible, it wouldn’t look too good to have a Set 2 student do poorly. Yet, he knows I’m putting the effort in, that I wanted to be in a top set and just needed some more guidance. So, he said he was holding off on the decision, he’d give me a few weeks to improve despite the pressure from above to drop me a set. He gave me extra work, would always ask me to answer stuff in class, and I worked the hardest I ever had. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, but above all, I wanted to repay him and him putting his neck out on the line for me.

SATs came around, and I got straight 7-7-7. Top marks. I did it! I’d just got my results as I walked down the corridor and I bumped into him and told him the news. “Knew you could do it!” with a beaming smile. What a gamble! If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have gone on to do the higher papers in Maths and Science at GCSE and ultimately would never have taken my science A levels. While I still always struggled with Maths, I was happy to be a B student in it. Technically, you needed an A in maths to do the A levels in Quantum Mechanics and Astrophysics, but somehow I was let on with my B. I strongly suspect Coggin had a hand to play in that. I still always love and feel super nerdy that I have A levels in Quantum Mechanics and Astro Physics! That and Biology and Geography. All not possible without that gamble by him!

Look out for you

Mentors can often be one of those things above or all of them at once. Often what combines all mentors is a sense of looking out for you as a person and having your best interests at heart. Sure, they come at it from different angles based on their experiences and their personalities, but ultimately they want what’s best for you. Luckily, I think all of my many mentors have had that element about them, certainly my academic mentors from the entire GID staff to my former supervisors at LJMU, they’ve been nothing but supportive. Two mentors, however, stand out to me as being all those things discussed so far, inspirational, dedicated, driven, trust in you but finally, looking out for you. Dr Ruth Healey and Dr Katharine Welsh have been two of my biggest academic mentors for 9 years. I’ve gone from being a student of them both, to them both being my boss at various times, to colleagues, office buddies and then friends.

Ruth and Katharine have been incredibly supportive from day one as a student. As a boss, they were keen to develop me as best they could but in such a way that I was always looked after. A real rare commodity in this day and age when bosses actually care for their employees! Both of them had always looked out for me, especially when I moved away from Chester to do my PhD, they were still keeping in touch, being a soundboard for advice and always thinking of me when opportunities arose. Be that to present my work, do a research project here and there, work as an editor for a major journal or even job applications. I’ve been super fortunate to have many mentors like that, but the two of them have become to me, at least, the epitome of a perfect example of what a mentor should be. Whenever I mentor someone, be that students, fellow colleagues of friends, I take a leaf out of their style of mentorship. They have a bit of each and every one of those mentors discussed so far, but they put their own flair and spin on it.

My academic career thus far would have looked so very different if I wasn’t backed, supported, gambled on, guided and encouraged by those two.

Ultimately, a mentor should part wisdom, encourage, and after spending time with them, you become a better person. They and all of my mentors I owe for that! So, thank you, thank you for making me who I am, thank you for gambling on me, backing me, pushing me and seeing things in me that I didn’t see. Without you, I wouldn’t be me.

Thank you!

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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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February 5, 2019

Another Single Valentines day

Hey guys, well it’s that time of year again where single people like me wallow in self-pity. Doubly so this year as I can’t even comfort eat the numerous heart-shaped chocolates in the shops as I’m lactose/dairy intolerant, so it’s a double dagger to my jaded heart. Cruel. I mean I’m totally cool with being single for the 7^th valentines day running, who’s counting…sniff…I say as the crumbs of my 25^th consecutive Oreo falls into my beard (attractive I know ladies!).

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Valentines day blogs I’ve covered everything from the perfect gifts, to the bitter blogs about it being a corporate day which has origins in a Roman guy who stalked a girl, then died pushing her out of the way of a runaway cart. People say that’s cute! I say that’s a Netflix criminal documentary. These blogs, the emotional robot Tony (yes I do have them) often allow me to discuss my feelings on subjects of love and women. They’re often my favourite blogs over the years. After all my love of writing blogs came from me trying to deal with the shitstorm of 6^th form. Over the years I’ve felt less and less inclined to wear my heart so openly online, I’m sure you’ve either read or can find those past blogs somewhere online. Yet, despite that I still love these types of blogs. Some of them are fun like a blog I wrote about why I’m single The Single Life of a Tony, or one of my favourite and actually most read blog was my joke take on what the perfect woman would be What would the perfect girl be if she existed?! Other blogs, well they’ve been a bit more sombre but packed a message like this one Cheating in relationship, is it in the Jeans?.

For this one, well I’ll try and strike a balance between the two! Lately, I’ve given some thought to relationships, I’ve been a bit preoccupied for a while with other stuff. I’ve had close friends start new relationships and others ending, I’ve seen those on a high and those struggling. Add to that I’m coming to the end of my PhD and in all honesty having absolutely no clue what lies in store for me next and the terrifying feeling I feel about leaving that life and for the first time probably ever, that I don’t have a solid plan or goal, it has made me think about a lot of things lately. Top piece of advice, I may seem like I have my shit together, but I’m just like you, a twig in a river just in for the ride having no clue.

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The last valentine’s day I spent with someone the tap jammed on and the kitchen nearly flooded with boiling hot water, and we spent the evening filling pots and pans to stop the water from flooding the kitchen. If that wasn’t a metaphor for how that relationship would eventually end, I don’t know what is haha! I’m not going to throw shade in this blog at people in relationships and whatever it is you do on valentines day. Whether you make it special or not, it’s your relationship and I for one and not in a position to judge. You know my thoughts on having a day to celebrate your love for another person and whether I think this is how it should be done.

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In terms of me, well yeah another year single. I honestly thought that last year that would have changed but as per usual with me and my love life well it’s often a square trying to fit into a circle, it never quite fits. I’ll pass on three scenarios or instances where I thought it would change, but the universe as usual laughed and went no.

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For the first time in a long, long time did I entertain the thought of being with someone, people commented on how I was smiling a lot more and was funnier and yeah, I did want to be a better person for her. I’ll take a side step here for a second to explain something. Despite my opening remarks, I’m actually a pretty happy single, I’ve written blogs before about how important it is when you come out of a relationship which you give your all in, to recharge, rediscover yourself and ultimately, forgive your flaws. After all, if you can’t love yourself then how can anyone ever truly love you and you to love someone else? What this means, however, when you’re very self-assured of yourself as well while you may miss having that one person to entirely rely on, or the cute things like morning kisses, on the whole, you enjoy life, you appreciate who you are and that’s important because you’re whole as a person and don’t need someone else to make you whole. I think that’s incredibly important! So when someone comes along who when you are a whole person make you sit up and think, well hey, this girl I want to be better than I am now and they’re going to enhance what I have. Take yourself from 10 to 11, that extra level you haven’t unlocked yet.

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So I met someone who for the first time in ages those thoughts crossed my mind, of course as per usual they were taken. I rolled my eyes, we’ve seen this episode before in the sitcom or is that the horror show that is my love life? Anyway, long story short the classic I’ll wait for her to sort her stuff out and I’ll be a gentleman and not tell her how I truly feel about her, it was too late. The moment had gone. That’s cool, we’ve been here before. As another joke, there was someone else who passed the Tony test, someone I didn’t really think would but did, and I enjoyed every moment with them, but circumstances meant that that would never happen. At least I now have a pretty good yardstick of who to compare to, to live up to my idea of a perfect woman. Lastly, while those two were the standard typical me issues, the latter is when I came to realise that I am destined to be single probably for another few years. It’s like every time something crops up to close that door. Those on Facebook will know about the Bumble story.

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Eugh. If that wasn’t a sign, then I don’t know what is. People used to think I’d be taking the piss with how unlucky I am with women, but that just proves it. To quote one of my dear friends “Tony, you really are the most unluckiest people in love I’ve ever met”. I have to agree. If you don’t know the story, well, after months, probably years of “You need to go dating, go on the dating apps” I caved in and dipped my fishing rod into the sea of online dating. Hardly any fish bit except one. A really good looking redhead (you know my Achilles heel), smart, super funny, loved black coffee and aviation, I was thinking well finally, here she is, the one that ticks all the boxes. We get on like a house on fire, and before I could ask to meet up on a date, I get ghosted. No messages for a week. From 100mph to 0. I’d heard about this dreaded phenomenon in the online world of being ghosted. I was, to put it mildly, fuming. After a week I go back onto my message on bumble, I couldn’t face it until then. That’s when the universe played a blinder and to be fair if I weren’t the butt of the joke I’d have pissed myself laughing at it. My phone and the app for whatever fucking reason decided to hold all her messages and not inform me she sent them. So while I thought I had been ghosted, I had inadvertently ghosted her. Her final message “Wow, I really thought we were getting on so well. I didn’t expect you to ghost me.”

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I messaged to explain the situation to no avail. I guess she read that and was like suuuure your phone did that, you complete dick. So yeah, whoop. That was fun, and by fun, I mean about as fun as being on Merseyrail.

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So while my single life is a shitshow as per usual someone asked me a question recently that actually got me thinking about where I stand on it all. She asked me, “Tony, would you trade in all of your degrees, all of your numerous awards and all of your successes for a happy and lasting relationship right now?”

I didn’t even hesitate in answering.

No.

No, I wouldn’t, and I’ll tell you why and why I feel comfortable single. Every degree, every award, every accolade I’ve done that on my own. I haven’t needed someone to confide in, to console, to complete me, that’s all me. It’s a badge of honour. It shows myself that I can do things, I can achieve and when it all goes to crap, I can always rely on myself. Behind those degrees and awards is a lifetime of failure, stress, self-doubt, imposter syndrome to name but a few negatives. Yet, it’s each fall, each hurdle, that I’ve had to pick myself up, learn, move forward, always moving forward. So no, I wouldn’t trade any of that in for a relationship.

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That got me thinking then that while I joke that the universe is against me when it comes to the opposite sex, I think actually I’m the problem! I’ll tell you why or at least why I think I am. The first reason is that I am a problem solver and I give advice, and I don’t beat around the bush. While I am deeply emotional as a person, you’ll never see that in person. I value rational thought and logic over emotions. While that is one of my strengths as I can cut through bullshit and sort mostly any problem out and I would say that those who are close to me value that quality that a spade is a spade. While that’s great as a friend or a colleague would a girl always want to be called out on the bad things to be improved? I’m not trying to be mean, not at all, just if I see you can be more efficient or improve something I’ll tell you. Of course, while I try to be a bit more inclined to the emotionally sensitive people, I imagine that how I come across is a bit abrasive.

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The second problem on those lines is I am so hard on myself. Always have been and probably always will be. Daft but a recent example, I’ve just finished writing my thesis in 2 years 5 months, way faster than the average and while so many people have been like that is amazing, you should be so proud. My first thought, why didn’t you finish it in 2 years 4 months, why didn’t you push yourself to write more papers instead of the one etc. I can’t ever just pat myself on the back, and when others send praise, I brush it off as it’s nothing. What that transpires into is that I demand a lot from myself, so those who I hold dear I demand their best too. I mentioned before that I’m a problem solver, my default is okay, here is a problem, right, how can I sort that for you so that you’ll be happy again or can move forward. What I’ve slowly become to learn is actually a lot of women just want to be listened to, to have someone agree and say you’re in their corner. Not to solve their problems but to say yeah, I’m standing with you on this one.

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Finally, what this all boils down to being single for so long is that I am utterly shitting myself for my next relationship. I’m terrified to take that step again, to open up my heart for fear of the damage an ending will have again. Heartbreak is the literal worst thing you can experience. It’s easier to not be in a relationship to not be hurt, and therefore walls are set in a solid foundation. When you’ve thought for just yourself for so many years, to then, think for two people will genuinely be a challenge for me. I know that one day I’m going to have to find the courage to retake that leap of faith, lately, each time I pluck up the courage something crops up. I know people say everything happens for a reason, well I’d like to see that reason sooner rather than later!

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Sometimes I sit here though, and I’m glad that I’m single. I see the pain that some people post break up go through, and I relive that crap time. I sympathise. I then see people really not happy in relationships but are so afraid to start again, to take drastic steps to be happy themselves that they stay in unhealthy relationships, denying themselves a better option and being in denial that things will get better. One thing that being single for so long gives you is clarity. Sometimes I think people fall in love with the idea of love and not the person. Love is fucking hard. Love isn’t holding hands, it isn’t supporting each other in the good times or telling them you love them when you feel like it. Love is when the shit hits the fan in your life, and the other person stands with you, love is when you’ve been chucking your guts up and look like death, and they tell you you’re beautiful because to them beauty if way past what you look like. Love is when you fundamentally disagree on an issue, but you put that aside and support unconditionally because you’re a team. You rely on each other. Love is making those efforts in the moments where it all seems like it could fall apart, but you work at it because you’re both invested.

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What I see, more often than not, however, is people think they’re in love when in fact they’re in love with the idea of love. They don’t love themselves or know what they want, so they settle for what they think they deserve. What this breads in the end if people who let their partner take liberties or actually when they take a close look realise they have nothing in common or actually we’re a team publically but behind closed doors we’re as far apart as can be. If you’re not happy in a relationship, you really need to leave, for your own sake and for the other person. Sure, it’s a weird single world out there, and I bet the thought of starting again is fucking terrifying, but at least you’re giving yourself the real possibility of finding happiness again. Find yourself or at least a teammate who’s going to always give you 100%.

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However, I see why valentines day is the day it is. Love is crazy, messed up, it’s fire and ice, it’s a rainbow in a storm, a light in an endless tunnel. I get it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss having someone back me 100% as more than a friend, I’d be lying if I didn’t miss morning messages or random hairs on your clothes, and I’d be definitely lying if I didn’t say I miss the sex life. Which, for those asking is I think has now gone past drought to the UN’s definition of extinct! I’d be lying if I didn’t miss the powerful emotions that come with love. Future girlfriend better get ready for the best 10 seconds of her life!

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So, if you’re in a happy relationship and you love the person you’re with, on valentines day, I get it, I really do, and I applaud you. Tell that person you love them, not just on the 14^th but every day. Sure, you’re going to hit turbulence along the way but make it work if you’re both committed. Never lose sight of the fact that you’re a team.

If you’re in a relationship and you’re deeply unhappy. As scary as it is, leave. It won’t get better, it never does, I’ve seen it a billion times before. You’re denying yourself a chance of happiness. If you’re newly single or just single, yeah this day sucks, it reminds you that even people like Hitler had a partner and you don’t. You’re literally less desirable than Hitler. I feel your pain. The 14^th is brutal. But guess what, you are strong, you are you, you fight your battles every day on your own, you’re valued, and you won’t be as unlucky as me because I think I’m taking one for the team when it comes to love.

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So for next year, who knows if it’ll be 8 years or I’ll be one of those annoying over the top soppy people. Tune in next year guys. As always though, whatever happens, love yourself and give yourself a break!

Until next time.

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January 6, 2018

North Atlantic Adventure: Halifax, Canada

I Travel from Iceland to the Maritime city of Halifax, Nova Scotia to explore this rich historic naval city and the wonders of the Nova Scotia coast to Peggy’s Cove.

The peace and quiet of the Icelandic countryside felt a million miles away from the hustle and bustle of Keflavik airport, in fact I’d go as far as saying organised chaos. Keflavik was never designed for this many passengers, as far as major international airports go…this is very much on the smaller size. Tourism has boomed in Iceland in recent years (it’s hard to see why it took so long!) and due to the connecting flights with Icelandair, Keflavik has swollen with passenger numbers. Throughout the day there is a constant pulse of passengers. From about 4 a.m. to 6 a.m. all of Icelandair and WoWair flights arrive across the Atlantic from North America flooding the terminal with thousands of passengers in those short hours. Those planes then carry on to Europe and then return before 3pm swelling the terminal again before leaving back across the Atlantic to North America between 4 and 6pm. It’s almost like a lung expanding and contracting as the day goes on. The issue is plain to see, while security was quick to go through well relatively. Travelling with all your camera equipment is a bloody hassle having to unpack it and then repack it after the x-ray machines, it never goes back in the way you packed it beforehand. What the issue is, is a distinct lack of seats. My flight was one of the very last to leave Iceland that day to head across the Atlantic to Halifax, Canada. That meant that by time I got to the departure lounge everyone else was waiting for their flights to North America which were about to board. Despite the cacophony of sound it was still exciting. Even if I did have to walk around for ages to find a seat.

Funky Icelandic Departure Lounge

You can’t go to your gate in Keflavik until it is called and if your flight is to the UK or North America which are both outside the Schengen free movement agreement you have to go through to the D-Gates. To get there you have to leave the Schengen area and go through passport control. I found myself a seat in what is a pretty nice terminal building despite how busy it is. I bought two sandwiches, some water and some Haribo gummy bears remember you get no food on this flight and its 4 and a bit hours long. After a wait my gate appeared and I headed quickly through passport control and I’m grateful to still be a part of the EU which allows me to use my chipped passport to go through the self-service control points. The queue for the non EU passport control was so big that I’m thankful that I’m getting my Irish Passport to travel on as to keep that privilege of quick access to EU countries. I watched a flight board from my gate and before long it was my turn, a quick bus ride to the plane, one last look at Iceland before I boarded my 757 to Halifax.

Next stop Canada!

I couldn’t wait to arrive in Canada again. The Cliffe family have a lot of history with Canada and my bike is adorned with the Canadian flag next to my name. I fell in love with this country a long time ago and I’ve visited many places in Canada, all except the Maritimes which I was to tick off on this trip. Last year’s trip to Toronto and then Edmonton was such a great trip to go back to Canada after far too many years away. Canada and the family ties are really what my love for Canada is all about. Halifax, my first stop was fitting as during WW2 as Great Uncle Wal an engineer in the Merchant Navy would crisscross the Atlantic and in Montreal is where he met his wife. It’s really down to them two that the Cliffe family have both a UK and a Canadian split. Barb and Betsy, their daughters always kept in contact with my Dad and kept that bond across the pond close. As Barb has had kids and obviously my mum and dad had me and my sister I feel it’s great that the new generation keep as close a bond as possible. It felt like meeting them all again for the first time and in some cases it really was the first time I’d met Becky and Sarah and Bob and Robin when I went to Toronto last year. They could not have made their English cousin feel any more welcome! I was super excited to see them all at the end of the trip in Toronto again! They’re all awesome! I also love Canada, I love the way of life, the people and the scenery. It’s no secret. Part of this trip was to really look at could I move here and live here once the PhD is done. Halifax is a city that has a close tie to Liverpool and the UK and it seemed like a great first port of call for my adventure of the Maritimes!

My take-off from Iceland to Halifax

On long haul you never quite know who you’re going to be sat next to, of course I always book the window seat! It always pays to talk to your fellow neighbours on flights, last time flying back from Canada doing just that got me an upgrade to first class! I was fortunate enough to have two older ladies sitting next to me who I had a nice chat with across the Atlantic about their home city of Halifax which broke up the journey for a bit.

Taking off and waving goodbye to Iceland I headed out across the Atlantic, next stop Canada! I watched Death at a Funeral (the British original not the awful American remake) that brought back some memories of when I first watched that film! That life as a 17 year old seemed so long ago! I glanced away from the movie to see that we were flying over Greenland. Simply stunning place and I’m jealous my supervisor does research on the glaciers there, I keep dropping hints for me to take my UAV on research with him there but he’s yet to take my hints! Using the Wi-fi I live streamed our crossing over Greenland where icepacks gave way to Glaciers that fed into the sea. I thought it was pretty neat that I could live stream such an epic view! Again hurray for inflight Wi-Fi.

Greenland from 38,000 feet

Before long the sun had caught up to us and after filling in the Customs Declaration landing card for Canada I took photographs of yet another truly stunning sunset that I would take on this trip. Everyone knows Sunrise and particularly Sunset are my favourite times of day. Specifically the civil twilight phase when it’s not quite dark but not quite light and the colours are so intense. Being so high up that moment lasts far longer than down on Earth and I savoured the view as my sleeping playlist played on my headphones. Perfect.

Evolution of a sunset from FL380

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After an hour in darkness I had arrived in Halifax, it felt so good to be back in Canada again! Icelandair were flawless yet again. The dreaded Jetlag did start to kick in but that was more about tiredness. After only a few hours’ sleep the night before chasing the Northern Lights and now being awake for 19 hours with still 2 hours to go before I would get to my hotel, I was starting to feel pretty tired. Going through boarder control was easy. The guy asked a few questions, saw that I was in Canada last year visiting family, he welcomed me back and with that stamp I was officially back in Canada again! Wahoo! I waited 45 minutes for my bag which was annoying as it meant I missed my pre-booked bus to the hotel. Halifax airport is a 45 minute drive away from the city itself so with this being 10pm at night in Canada the only way is via a taxi or a cheaper pre-booked bus. As I always plan for delays I had booked the last bus out at 11pm just in case there was a delay.

While waiting for said bus along with a few passengers the man at the ticket office comes out and asks “Does anybody speak French?” Odd question and I didn’t raise my hand. Whatever his issue was I doubt my C in GCSE French was going to be much good. I can count to 10, order a Cheese and Ham baguette and tell them about my weekends going to the bibliothèque but I don’t think that would help much. A woman however bravely said “I do…a little but I mean a little”. The guy produces an old French woman almost out of nowhere, not sure if he could summon her from thin air but she appeared and starts rattling off French and this poor Canadian good Samaritan was trying her best to understand. The older woman was getting irate with this poor girl only understanding parts of it “I think her flight is tomorrow and…something about her daughter…I think!”

That’s it. I couldn’t sit by and let three people struggle nor could my tired brain bare the sound of constant French. This old woman obviously had an issue and not a word of English in her understanding so I thought I would help out, although I kept my poor French to myself. “Sorry to interrupt, I couldn’t help but overhear…I have a translation app, it’s not word for word but it’ll help” I offer to the three of them. They agree and with Google Translation app working pretty well…well the odd word threw me “My daughter is with a chicken”. Maybe she was with a chicken I don’t know but google translated it as such. The bottom of the story was her flight was delayed so she missed her connection to the French Island of Saint-Pierre to visit her daughter and the next flight was tomorrow morning so she needed a hotel to stay in but all the airport hotels were full. The Canadian lady and myself searched online to find suitable and relatively cheap hotels. We left some numbers with the ticket guy as before long we had to board the bus. The Canadian lady stayed behind a little longer to use her broken French to make sure she knew what she had to do. While driving through the dead of night the Canadian lady phones her partner about the events “You’ll never believe what’s just happened. I haven’t used French for ages and I had to use it to help some old woman. Me and some nice British guy helped her”. I’m not sure if she knew I was on the bus or not but being described as a nice British guy is a nice way to start your trip in Canada. The bus dropped her off at the main train station after a 45 minute motorway trip, she catches my eye and thanks me again for helping out. “Not a problem my dear” I reply. “Thanks again, I love your accent”. I wouldn’t get tired of women saying that to me over here on this trip!

I was the last one on the minibus and I finally arrived at my hotel at 12 a.m. and I had been awake for 23 hours. I was shattered. The check-in was quick, the hotel and room was huge, I got a shower and then it was straight to bed. What a way to start a new location. The hotel in question was the 4 star Hampton Inn by Hilton in Halifax Downtown and cost me £232 for two nights.

By time morning came I was already up at 6.30 a.m. with my body still 4 hours ahead on Icelandic time. After a shower I went down for breakfast, packed my gear and off I went to explore the city of Halifax on foot. I only had a day here so I had planned to walk around the city in the morning and then I had booked to go on a tour to Peggy’s cove, the most photographed lighthouse in the world in the afternoon. The air was cool and crisp but at least it was sunny. I took a walk down to the waterfront which fun fact for you is the second largest ice-free harbour in the world, only Sydney is larger.

I was tired and needed coffee so headed to Tim Hortons Canada’s favourite coffee house. In my last blog I wrote about the whole drip/filter vs Espresso. Don’t get me wrong it’s nice but it’s not a patch on European coffee. I bought myself a cup of Dark roast which is a new blend by Tim Hortons which is their strongest blend and tries to somewhat emulate an espresso. Nowhere near but it was good enough and I loved the cups!

Good old Tims with some cute 150th birthday cups!

I walked along the waterfront where it was peaceful and quiet, I watched a warship head out, a cruise ship arrive, I sat on a hammock and finished my coffee while the hum of traffic and the city skyscrapers loomed behind me. Again and not for the first time on this trip the city had a lovely vibe about it. Even walking through the concrete canyon of downtown Halifax felt laid back and chilled, despite its very steep hills at times. As usual I found myself walking up the highest point of the city Citadel hill to which Fort George stood. With this being Canada’s 150^th birthday pretty much all of these attractions were free. I walked inside and wow what a place for free! From old guards, to one of the best military museums I have ever had the pleasure to walk through including a live cannon salute. One thing I had noticed is British Union flags all over the place along with the Scottish flag and a lot of people walking around in kilts. Halifax has such a close tie to Scotland (it sits within the province of Nova Scotia which translates to New Scotland) and the UK and actually a very strong link to Liverpool. This part of the world was the first for UK and Irish settlers to colonise and that history it seems lives strong in this part of the world. It didn’t feel like Canada at all, it felt like an extended part of the UK. It was lovely!

After walking around there and enjoying the views, I headed back into the city for my tour to Peggy’s cove. It was a five hour tour for what worked out as about £25. Bargain. I got on a giant Greyhound style bus and our tour guide was a very funny and full of puns old guy who loved his job. While boarding the bus he asked everyone’s name and where they came from. “Hi, Tony and Liverpool, England”….”Ah you know John then?” … “As in the Beatle who’s been dead for years? Yeah really well…good mates”. He laughed and so did the others behind me “Oh you Brits and your wit” he remarks with a laugh. I wasn’t trying to be witty I was being sarcastic as I was fed up of people asking if I knew the Beatles personally or the Queen! The drive out of the city for 50 minutes to Peggy’s cove was truly stunning and it did make me wish I could hire a car to explore more of it. There are so many lakes and rivers and forests in this part of the world, I’m sure he said there are 2000 fresh water lakes here alone! Cities are great but to me it’s always about the countryside and the wilderness. I passed so many lakes and tiny fishing ports that would have been so good to explore.

We arrived at Peggy’s cove. Just stunning. A typical Nova Scotia village. I was in love. I walked along the sea rocks, snapped away at the Lighthouse (I think going early morning would be best if you want to visit it without the hordes of tourists though) and I just sat, listening to the waves crash on the rocks by my feet, the blue waters meeting the blue sky. Amazing place to visit and I can see why this location is so highly photographed. You really should go!

Peggy’s Cove

Most photographed lighthouse in the world! My one to add to the collection of images!

The 50 minute drive back went a different way and was full of again, jaw-dropping scenery and full of funny stories and information from our tour guide. By time I got back to Halifax it was close to 4 p.m. There are a lot of Irish bars and pubs and on TripAdvisor this was the best in town so I popped in for a Bushmills Whiskey (my second favourite Irish dram after Tulamore) and tried their Fish and Chips. Seafood is huge on this coast and I thought I’d try Fish and Chips in every location to see who wins the battle of the best one. Even their best was not a patch on good old British chip shop Fish and Chips but this one wasn’t bad. It came second on my top 3 list this trip!

I walked back up the hill to watch the sunset, walked another 4 miles around the city at night before calling it quits to come back to my hotel just before 8pm. I was short on sleep, I had walked 13 miles around the city and the delights of Peggy’s cove so before I knew it I was out like a light. Tomorrow I would catch a 2hr 30 minute flight up to the frozen north of St. John’s for three nights.

End Notes:

I would have liked in hindsight to stay an extra day in Halifax. Halifax is a wonderful city and while it’s small it has a rich history, especially a maritime one. There were so many museums I would have loved to have visited, especially the Pier 11 immigration one and the transport musuem but just didn’t have the time. Halifax waterfront is one of the best waterfronts I have ever seen in a city and that’s coming from someone who lives in Liverpool! They have really developed this amazing board walk around the waterfront and the trail is superb. I think Liverpool could certainly take a leaf out of their books! The city itself however is pretty generic high rise concrete canyon North American city. The city itself certainly lacked the quirky charms of my next two locations St. John’s and Charlottetown but it was nice to see a lot of brickwork highrise rather than the steal ones. What it lacked in character certainly made up for in its surroundings. A drive in this place outside of the city is breath taking and that drive and walk around Peggy’s cove is an absolute bucket list must! Stunning scenery and every picture is postcard or magazine worthy. I would definitely hire a car and explore around this place for an extra day or two if I had the time, however the tour for £25 was very good value for money! Peggy’s Cove is as beautiful in real life as it looks in pictures and I would love to get a sunset or a sunrise picture there.

I was glad I decided to make this my first stop back in Canada and my tour of the Atlantic coast. I had fully enjoyed my day in this city and I was super excited to head north to St. John’s, a place I’d wanted to visit for ages!

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December 22, 2017

North Atlantic Adventure: Iceland – Part Two

Today i travel to the South Coast of Iceland walking under waterfalls, walking by glaciers and black sands and then finishing the day off under an amazing Northern Lights display.

One of my motto’s for travelling is if you don’t feel absolutely knackered coming back from a holiday then it hasn’t really been a good one. I never get why people pay hundreds or even thousands of pounds to sit on a beach all day and do nothing. Nope that ain’t me! Out of the hotel by 8 a.m at the latest and I don’t get back in until 8 pm at the earliest. Today however I was to be out of the hotel at 8 a.m and not get back until 1 a.m the next day. Today was the day I was really looking forward to, today was the day that this whole adventure really began. Being in Iceland and Reykjavik was cool but I came for the scenery, I came for the Geography, I came for the adventure. There are so many tour operators in Iceland that it’s hard to decide who to choose. Han my resident Icelandic expert uses a company called Icelandic Guided Tours and she assured me that “While they’re more expensive than most companies they’re the best, they offer great trips and it’s a lot more personal because they only take a small number of people”. Han has never failed me with her advice and she didn’t this time either. While yes, they are one of the most expensive companies on the Island for just under £100 you got a 9 hour tour which in the grand scheme of things is still an amazing price! They do a lot of tours and in Iceland I wanted to do them all but today was only my real full day so I had to decide out of the main two which one to do. South Coast tour or the Golden Circle tour. I decided that while the Golden Circle sounds great and was £30 cheaper it visited a lot of touristy places such as the Blue Lagoon whereas the South coast tour offered waterfalls and glaciers. Errm absolutely! That is so me! So that’s the one I booked and so glad I did! If you have only a full day in Iceland please choose the South Coast tour, you will not be dissapointed! For more info visit here https://www.igtours.is/en/tours/south-coast-tour-by-mini-bus

The rain was hammering against the window of my hotel room and I was very glad I brought all of my fieldwork equipment and clothing with me. It was very geography fieldwork weather that’s for sure! 3 degrees and rain. My walking boots and waterproof walking trousers certainly got fully tested on this trip!

Ready for 9 hours out in the Icelandic wilderness

The minibus picked me up at exactly 8.15 a.m and it turns out I was one of the last ones to be picked up from the city. The tour guide greeted me, an old rugged but cheery Icelandic chap called Oshsckah (Sounds a lot like Oscar but just imagine Sean Connery saying it) he shook my hand and welcomed me on-board. I was greeted by a family of Japanese tourists who all greeted me in Japanese while a man who was with them greeted me with a stern British accent “Good morning chap”. Not only did today already have the feeling of adventure now I had an Indiana Jones archaeologist on the trip, he wouldn’t have looked out of place with one of those white helmets on and looked an awful lot like Arthur Frooman from Eurotrip! I said hello back and saw that my go to seat on the minibus was free. Every minibus usually always has a single seat at the back over the wheel well. That’s my go to spot for fieldwork and room next to you for your bag. Always a win win. Plus it means I didn’t have to sit next to anyone which was perfectly fine by me!

Drive to the South Coast

We drove for another 10 minutes in silence to the edge of the city where we picked up our final two passengers, two older ladies from Canada. Oshsckah informed us that we will be driving for at least an hour until our next stop and we set off in silence. For a minute I thought it would be a weird hour sat in silence despite the views. However it turns out he was just connecting his microphone! He gave some really interesting stories and information as we drove towards the south coast of Iceland, we left the city far behind and the views changed from lava and basalt flows to steaming vents to the flat plains of the coast. You could be on another planet as far as I was concerned. This place was stunningly beautiful and desolate. Everywhere you looked just made you say wow. Having such awful weather only added to the sense of rugged adventure and exploration of such an alien world.

We drove through the first sign of civilisation in miles as we passed a service town and here is where we stopped for the toilet and some food. I hadn’t had breakfast yet or a coffee and as any explorer knows you can’t explore on an empty stomach or without a cup of Joe first! Little did I know that would be my last cup of espresso based coffee for two weeks. I love Canada but filter and drip coffee will never compare to European espresso based coffees. Drip and filter is weak! Considering Americano’s were invented by American G.I’s in world war one by adding water to espressos that the Italians served them you’d think it would translate back on the North American continent but no!

Breakfast of champions

We were soon on our way again as I savoured the delights of an Icelandic Americano and before long the looming line of volcanoes appeared with their gushing waterfalls cascading along the sides, their mystical peaks surrounded by dense rain clouds, giving this place that very Icelandic feel along with the rendition of Jurassic Park in my head!

Doo do doo doo DO Doo do doo doo DO doo dedo doo doo do dooo DE doo

He pulled over and we were greeted with the first highlight of the day, Eyjafjallajökull. Which is so much easier to type than it is to say! Egg-ya-ful…ah I give up, I just call it the famous 2010 volcano that stopped all European flights for a week. What an unexpected surprise! This wasn’t on the itinerary so I was over the moon! This for a Geographer is like one of the Holy Grail of places to visit! Such a beautiful volcano too.

Eyjafjallajökull in all her beauty

After a few snaps it was back on the road for another half an hour drive before we pulled into our next stop the Skógafoss waterfall. I’m really glad I chose to visit Iceland in September because it’s yet to freeze over (although it was fecking cold) and you get the dark nights for the Northern Lights. Seeing waterfalls in action are always breath-taking, to walk right next to one even more so. Nothing makes me happier than being in a beautiful environment with stunning views and nothing but yourself and nature. I was fortunate to be lucky to have so many moments on this trip like that. I risked getting the camera drenched for a few shots but relied mostly on my waterproof Samsung for one of many selfies!

Skógafoss waterfall

After being drenched by the waterfall (and that wasn’t going to be the only one today!) we headed to the most Southerly tip of Iceland, a town called Vic. Here we stayed for an hour and people went to get some food and some shopping. I dashed in for a sandwich and got some trinkets for the office. Trolls are huge in Iceland it’s a religion to them and they firmly believe that trolls look after you and keep you safe. I guess our equivalent to a guardian angel. I thought who needs a protective good luck troll more than my friends who are doing a PhD? So at least H105 is protected by 4 strong Icelandic trolls! Who no offence to the trolls…are incredibly fugly! While the rest of the tour sat inside warming up I ventured out onto the beach that was a short walk away from town. Nothing but me, the crashing Atlantic waves, the stunning fallen cliffs and the deep black beach. Walking on black sand felt like another planet. The fallen arches from the cliffs and the black sand beach looked like something out of Star Wars. A first order ship floating past would not have seemed out of place at all. Simply stunning.

A planet i mean a village called Vic

After plenty of pictures it was back on the bus to our next stop, Reynisfjara which is basically the most famous black beach in Iceland. It was very busy here with Tourists and it’s no surprise why but as I just explored the black beach in Vic I was happy to spend my time just taking in the view with my own eyes rather than the camera lens for once…well besides this picture anyway!

Standard i’m trying to look like a Geographer photo

After half an hour it was back on the bus and by now the rain had stopped and it looked like it might just clear up for once! As amazing as Iceland is I was sure it would be even better in the sunshine! The drives between these places were amazing within themselves. If I paid to just be driven around I still think it would have been good value for money. I can’t stress enough how beautiful and how happy this place made me feel. My mum loved Iceland when she went, Han fell in love with it and they both warned me that I would fall for its beautiful charms. They were right and it kept on giving as the day went on! After the black beach I traversed the Sólheimajökull glacier (another stunning place) and the sun appeared as I walked behind the Seljalandsfoss waterfall.

Sólheimajökull Glacier

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I got utterly battered and soaked by the water but what an amazing experience to walk behind such a large waterfall. Getting wet was all part of the fun! To warm up I bought some Icelandic Soup which is basically lamb, carrot, onion and broccoli in a vegetable broth. It burnt all the way down and seriously fucked my tounge up because I ate it too quickly but damn it was good! I sat down on the bench looking out at the waterfall, miles away from home with a big smile on my face. Today had been…so me. Exploring and travelling is all about experiences and moments like today. I played over the things I’d seen and done today on the drive back to the city, still admiring the views.

It turned out a lot of people on this mini-bus were going on the Northern Lights tour tonight. I had told Oshsckah that I was going on the trip tonight and he assured me despite the weather, the forecast was a KP 6 a very strong storm so chances to see the Northern Lights were high and that having spoken to his colleagues the weather was to clear up for a few hours late tonight. It will go ahead he assured me. Sure enough an email come through to my phone confirming this. I was over joyed. I didn’t come to Iceland to specifically see the Northern Lights because I know how unpredictable they are but if I saw one of Mother Nature’s most beautiful gifts then of course I would be happy.

By time I got back to the hotel I didn’t have enough time to go out to eat so I ate my final cookie, got a quick shower to warm up and charged my camera gear ready for tonight. The rain began to fall again and despite the KP index still being 6 that excitement and hope began to slowly fade away. My weather apps said rain and overcast all night. I doubted my tour guides knowledge. On time I was picked up by a bigger minibus this time but again only holding around 20 people and again I was one of the last to be picked up due to the location of the hotel. I found a spare seat and off we went into the night. I can’t even begin to type our Northern Lights tour guides name but he was a lovely guy who gave a brilliant explanation of the Aurora Borealis and how to take pictures of them (I knew how to as I’d been practicing for weeks in my back garden on my technique so I was fully ready should they appear to capture them). He assured us all again that local knowledge it will clear and he was adamant that tonight would be a wonderful show. We drove for over 50 minutes away from the city and deep into the heart of the country, close to the airport. He pulled over and switched off the lights and told us he could see them. We all got off the bus and he pointed towards the sky.

My first glimpse of the Northern Lights

There they were. Those charged particles racing across the sky. What a wonderful sight. I snapped away and bingo. I got an in focus shot of the lights. “Back on the bus guys”. I was like really!? But not to worry he said they’d get better and this was only a preview. We drove for a further 20 minutes away from any roads and down a dirt track. You could barely see your hand in front of your face as we stepped off the bus and I was glad I brought my torch! I looked up and stood mouth ajar. The stars were so clear and vibrant, I don’t think I’d ever seen so many stars. I was in awe as I looked towards the horizon and saw the snaking shimmering northern lights. It really does take your breath away. It’s hard to explain how it feels to see such raw natural beauty. I got to work taking pictures of them. They constantly changed, constantly giving new colours and new patterns, a dazzling free light show right over your head.

It felt amazing to be in complete silence away from any civilisation, hundreds of miles from home, looking up at the night sky speckled with diamonds and mother nature’s wonderful gift of the Northern Lights over your head. What a truly spectacular experience. Not only did I get to see them, my luck continued as the KP 6 storm meant I got to see purples and reds and as the tour guide pointed out I was very lucky to witness and photograph the Angel. I’m not a religious guy by any means but there is something spiritual about nature and the northern lights. You feel connected, you feel at home, you feel energised. I feel very privileged and very fortunate to have seen such an amazing display. I know people go to Iceland 5 times and never see them. My mum and sister have been twice but only saw them static and a dull green. I was so lucky to see such a vibrant display and the very rare angel. In life I often find the universe gives me little wins from free upgrades to luck like that. I’m so glad my photo practice worked as I snapped away getting shot after shot to capture the memories.

The Angel

Not everyone can see the colours in the sky and I was one of them. To me they were a grey waving cloud it was only on the back of the camera could I truly see their bright vibrant colours so I was so glad to have my camera gear with me. After a few hours the clear sky was replaced by advancing rain and cloud and we headed back onto the bus for the drive back to the city with tales of trolls and stories of the lights. Everyone was buzzing and today ranked up there with one of the most special and most amazing experiences of my life. From walking under waterfalls, to walking on glaciers to experiencing the Northern Lights, how could you top such a day?

I got back to my room at 1 a.m and I didn’t get to sleep till gone 3ish as I was still on cloud 9, how could you not be? When I woke up at 8 a.m (I allowed myself to break my out by 8 a.m rule for once) I repacked my bag, something I’d grow tired of doing eventually on this trip and I headed back out to explore the city before my bus picked me up at 1pm to take me to the airport for my late afternoon flight to Halifax, Canada. My next stop on this wonderful adventure. I walked for 8 miles around the city taking in the sights and going up the Hallgrímskirkja church, Iceland’s most famous landmark.

Hallgrímskirkja

Again a travel tradition of mine. Go up the tallest thing there is to go up and enjoy the views. From the top I could take one last look at the fabulous city and the views. Before long I was on the bus to the airport with a heavy heart, something I’d grow used to on this trip. Each place from here on in was amazing and it was so hard to leave each place but each place left its mark on me. I vowed I’d return to this beautiful Island one day. Han was right…I would fall in love with this place!

Bye bye Iceland! You are beautiful!

That sadness to leave was replaced by excitement as I checked my bag in, got immersed in the utter mental chaos of Keflavik airport and waited for my flight to my favourite country…next stop Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada!

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September 28, 2017

Who Killed Mr Archer? Part Four: The Detective closes in on the Killer.

Mr Archer

Part: four – closing in on the killer

Eleanor took another look around the Archer’s home, she visited the stateroom and the kitchen and talked to the servers and the Chef. They all confirmed what Maxwell had told her except the two servers Paula and Gerrard mentioned another piece of the puzzle. “He wasn’t happy at all was Mr Archer. I came in at the end of dinner to clear the plates and he and his son were finishing an argument, they never saw eye to eye”. Eleanor discovered the fractious relationship between father and son, something any of them had failed to tell the two investigators. He was happy and content last night, that’s what his wife had told them this morning. Lie. Why did all three cover up the argument at diner? More questions to ask as she searched the grounds to talk to Michael. Her explorations took her to the outdoor gardens to where the bunting fluttered in the peaceful wind, an area that should have been full of guests, instead an eerie silence engulfed the area as if holding its breath for the truth to come out.

There he is! “Michael, can I have a word?”

“I’m busy looking after my Mum, if you want to talk you’re going to have to walk and do it” he was blunt and sarcastic. She instantly disliked this young man, an arrogance he no doubt picked up from his father.

“I believe you and your father had a fight last night?” she enquired to him, he just rolled his eyes “Father? Yeah some Father. An alcoholic who didn’t care about anyone but himself.”

Eleanor was taken aback by his response, “So what was the argument about?”

“Look Emma…El…”

“It’s Eleanor”

“Of course it is…Eleanor look, when you have a Father who does nothing but resent you for not wanting to look after the estate and see’s you as his problems at the bottom of a bottle, every day is an argument and a struggle!”

Eleanor pulled out her trusty notebook. “So you don’t want to take care of the family estate?”

He stopped in his tracks, the blazer blowing in the wind over his shoulder “I love Art and I love University. There is so much more to life than heritage and family entitlement. I can’t stand this place and feeling of being privileged. He never understood that and he never will. He just steam rolled everyone, he didn’t care what you thought unless it’s what he wanted” he began to walk again back inside the house “Eleanor I hated him but not enough to kill him. I have nothing to gain, I don’t want to take on this place. God knows what my mother saw in him.”

She offered a warm smile to Michael as Mrs Archer could be seen sitting down in one of the rooms out of the corner of her eye. “You’re close to your mother then?”

He took a deep breath as he fought back tears that had caught in his eyes, Eleanor noted the first real true emotion from him. “She’s my world. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She is nothing like him. He’s not my father. No father hits their son when they’ve had too many drinks. He is dead to me. If you’ll excuse me, I have to attend to my mother.”

With that he disappeared into the room with his mother and wrapped her up in a blanket. Eleanor closed her notebook and continued her walk around the house. She went in and out of rooms until she was back up the grand staircase and found herself on the top of the long carpeted hallway again. Maxwell was in and out of one of the far rooms cleaning still, trying to keep himself busy. To her right was a large office and she slipped inside to have a look.

Besides the book cases, the view of the gardens and hills beyond and the stack of papers and envelopes on the mahogany desk, it was like any other home office. All that was missing was a computer but she suspected Mr Archer was not one for technology. Instead in place of a computer was an empty bottle of Whiskey and a tumbler. So this is where he was before her went into the bath? She asked herself. She looked around trying to find any sign of a murder weapon or any hint that the murder had taken place. There was nothing. She looked in the draws and under the desk, nothing. She was starting to get frustrated with herself, too many questions and not enough answers. While on her hands and knees on the thick carpet something odd caught her eye under the desk. A lone white petal of a flower sat nestled in the strands of the carpet, standing out against the blood red. The smell of the flower was strong and stuck in the back of her throat as she coughed, banging her head on the desk above. There was no sign of any vase or flowers in the office and she hadn’t seen flowers in the house at all. Where did this come from? She looked under the pile of envelopes and what she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Half a mile away Detective Locke was questioning Jim and Julie Bradshaw in their home. Their estate was full of wild flower beds and meadows, a marsh and a lake to which a variety of wild birds and animals darted in and out. It wasn’t hard to see how a windfarm would ruin this idyllic location.

“Look, I didn’t kill him Detective. It was a heated argument and I know I shouldn’t have said I’d kill him but he was a very frustrating man to deal with! This is our livelihood!” Jim sat opposite Detective Locke, an exasperated look on his white grizzly bearded face. Jim and Julie where not like the Archer’s. They were very much at one with nature and any money they did have went into caring for animals. They were passionate about wild flowers and birds, enough to kill for? Julie spoke up for the first time in a while “Why would we kill him Detective? We were about to make a substantial profit from Mr Archer.” Jim shot his wife a wide eyed look “It was going to come out eventually Jim, we might as well tell him.”

Alec sat forward in his chair “go on”. Jim elected to answer this time “Yes we were opposed to the windfarm and we were very against it but he offered us a substantial amount that we couldn’t refuse. It’s enough to build our new bird sanctuary we’ve always wanted. Look, we’re not proud to be bought off but we have to survive! We have to look after the animals!”

Julie chipped in at the end “you may think of us as bad people Detective but we wouldn’t kill him. We’ve already compromised our morals enough” she took a long sip of her herbal tea before continuing “we were going to sign a contract and pick up the cheque at the event this afternoon. We wouldn’t kill him at least not before we got the money!” she laughed, her misplaced humour was not well received by Detective Locke. His gut believed them. “His assistant…Sarah, she came around last night to give us the final contracts. We were going to sign them and pick up our money today. Look here…” Julie fetched the signed contract from the table. They were telling the truth.

“What time did you say Sarah came around?” the cogs starting to work in his brain.

“8.30 for about an hour, I always water the plants in the greenhouse at 8 and it takes me half an hour to do. She arrived just as I was finishing.”

Alec’s phone rang, he excused himself and left the room as he took the call, it was Eleanor “Alec, hidden under the envelopes are death threat letters. I think it’s the Bradshaw’s but I don’t know how they could have got in to kill him”

“It’s not them” he replied bluntly. His famous brain working in overdrive. He knew who had killed him just not the how. “He bought them off. There is no way they were going to kill him Eleanor.”

“Who did then? Who would send the death threats from inside the house?” she still had something to learn in the Detective world and how to connect the dots. Eleanor provided the final clue. “They had an argument you know? The son and the Dad that night…I don’t know why but something else I found and I can’t get it out of my head. I’ll send you a picture. I’ll send over pictures of my notebook too, I had a look around”

Alec eyed the scene in front of him of the office and took a closer look at the petal that was stuck on the carpet. He zoomed in on his smartphone but not on the petal but another objected buried deep in the carpet under the desk. Bingo! That’s the murder weapon!

He called Eleanor back on the phone, asked her to do something for her and hung up with “gather them in the stateroom. I have the killer!” the excitement evident in his voice.

End of Part Four

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The Day in the life of Tony Cliffe

Tag: Writing

July 28, 2020

100+ Days of my Lockdown Journey

100+ Days of Lockdown

A prelude to lockdown

Lockdown

Negatives and Benefits of lockdown life

March 27, 2020

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

December 31, 2019

2010-2019 the decade of change and achievement

August 18, 2019

Autumn is around the corner. My four likes and dislikes of this season.

Dislikes

Likes

August 16, 2019

A dedication to the mentors

August 6, 2019

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

February 5, 2019

Another Single Valentines day

January 6, 2018

North Atlantic Adventure: Halifax, Canada

Evolution of a sunset from FL380

December 22, 2017

North Atlantic Adventure: Iceland – Part Two

September 28, 2017

Who Killed Mr Archer? Part Four: The Detective closes in on the Killer.

Part: four – closing in on the killer