26/10/2023 - Running down a dream.

Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?
                Morpheus:-  The Matrix 1999

    The next few days were mostly a continuation of the feelings experienced the night before, but on an amplified scale. Whichever part of Bangkok that I retread, my first impression was that everything was mostly consistent with how I had left it in 2019, but there was something amiss. It was like when you recall a particularly vivid dream that seemed to accurately portray a person, place or event at first, but soon you think about those bits that just don't tally up with reality. For me, having been away from here for over 4 and half years, I began to wonder how much of what I was remembering was an accurate portrayal, and how much was my subconscious filling in the blanks. 

Thankfully I had taken plenty of photographs over my previous stays, which went some way to backing up the accuracy of the particular details that I was remembering.

      It took me a while to get my head around the differences that I was finding out had been made. Extensive internal changes inside of the MBK and Siam Centre were thankfully not extended to the Siam Paragon or Terminal 21 Malls. The latter 2 locations were of particular use as upon arriving in Bangkok I had decided that many of the clothes I had packed to bring with me were not going to be suitable for the conditions I had put myself back into. The pair of replacement shoes that I bought on the first day was the item that I had planned on getting before I left the UK, but several t-shirts and short-sleeved shirts I felt had more than served their time. So far a total of 6 new t-shirts, 1 polo shirt and 2 short sleeve tops of a much lighter fabric type have been brought in as replacement. This may not be over yet. 

    I have caused myself a mild bit of frustration with my final packing choices before I left the UK, That nagging doubt that had plagued me in the final run-up, that I was not ready or more that I was taking too much had led to a few items being pulled out and discarded in the final hours before I left, despite my baggage weight being comfortably within my allowance. One of those things was a white USB-A to USB-C cable which specific trait was that it enabled my phone to fully charge up in just over thirty minutes. A particularly useful feature for travel I thought and one of the reasons I ended up going for this particular model. I did bring a different white USB-A to USB-C charging cable with me, but this is just a standard cable with no underlying party tricks. All efforts to track down a suitable replacement have as yet failed. The old Pantip plaza that used to be great for electronic devices is (as is maybe getting predictable by now) no longer.

This particular frustration though, may now have been given an end date
   

25/10/2023 - Settling back in (or not)

I'm not really used to suffering from jetlag, well not when travelling on a west-to-east leg at least. On this occasion however, it feels like I may be on the receiving end of a potentially brutal two-footed challenge. 

The flight had been long and tiring, and I had expected it to be as such when I booked them judging that the extra few hours flight time was worth it to try and claw back some of the extra costs I had been subjected to. Fortunately those hours passed by mostly event-free. and thanks to the added comfort afforded by exceptionally good performing noise-cancelling headphones, those 18 hours from Bristol to Bangkok only felt like about 20, thanks in part to a heart that felt about ready to pull a John Hurt in Alien on me (I may have become hyper-aware). The plane touched down in Bangkok at 12:15 p.m. Immigration was as simple and as straightforward as it could be and a short time later (when I had collected my overweighted bag from the carousel and picked up a local sim card accordingly), I was on the train from the airport towards the city centre. Here I  switched onto to the BTS (sky train) line, which then in turn enabled me to get within just a couple of minute's walk from my first hotel, which I arrived at dripping with sweat.

After sorting everything out at the hotel, I had a shower and headed back out into the heavy, overly humid evening air. Silom, a place that I first visited 10 years ago and had subsequently felt quite comfortable in, had changed. Some buildings had been knocked down or altered, with shops and landmarks that I once knew and recognised no longer existed in their once familiar forms. For the first time in a long time in that particular part of the city, I found myself becoming lost, with those absent navigation points leading on more than one occasion to me fully losing my sense of direction. One of the few things that I had left that had been resolutely reliable in the past (except in New Zealand, but there is probably a scientific reason for that somehow)

After getting some street food sorted (so good even when lost), I found my way back to the hotel, stopping only at a 7-11 store for some supplies for the fridge, enough to carry me over the next few days. Back in my room, I set about trying to write, either to make a start on an entry for the blog or reply to some messages that I had received over the past hours. Unable to keep my eyes open doing either, I gave in and embraced the cool night that was at the courtesy of the room's air conditioning unit. 

It may not have been silent, but in truth, it was close enough for it not to matter. 

24/10/2023 - The long way around

I didn’t think that I was going to sleep the night before I left, but in the end I was just too tired not to, even if it was only for a couple of hours. I did however sleep with the light on and also set 7 or 8 alarms across several different devices to try and avoid missing the coach that was due to depart Bristol at 5:50 am, in order to make the flight out of Heathrow at just after mid-day. Sometimes I can, and have, slept through pretty much anything, probably due in some part to having a bedroom located above a busy pub during my preteen years in (with early 80s jukebox hits booming through the boards at night alongside the sounds of drunken crowds). In the over-tired state that I was in, my being unresponsive to any sound when under is always going to be a bit of a risk.

I had booked the flights just a few weeks earlier and had undoubtedly underestimated the amount of effort and stress that this latest trip was going to cause. Perhaps it was a delayed knee-jerk reaction to the various trials I have gone through over the last few years, stumbling through one final hurdle at the eye hospital as they (eventually) concluded that the condition of my right eye was no immediate risk. “We shall see you again in 3 months” the consultant remarked at the end of my latest appointment there. “Can we make it 6” I asked politely, I’ve been trying to get off of this damned rock since 2019 now without much success (or words to that effect at least).

The price of the flights themselves were much costlier than those on the last pre-covid jaunt of (2019), however it was the quotes for insurance that I was getting that I found to be pretty mind-blowing and totally unjustified, with initial prices hitting about the £4500 mark, These figures really did start me further questioning the feasibility of what I was doing, weighing up whether it was an idea that, with all the delays incurred and subsequent personal developments, was now just something that had gone past its sell-by date. Would I be better served cutting my losses before I got too deep into the travel abyss? My frustration is that the massively increased cost is mostly a result of the heart operation that was deemed necessary in 2022, but this is flawed logic if you kind of think about it. Of course, it isn’t flawed if you are sn insurance company that wants an excuse to squeeze more money out of people. Shortly after my heart operation (I need to clarify now don’t I!?!), the consultant at the hospital excitedly declared “But we have fixed you!” and ”we will next see you in about 25 years” when I said about feeling a little down and frustrated with everything, especially as I had put so much effort in previously in trying to stay fit and healthy against the diabetic backdrop. The hard truth is that I know the condition of my heart (I have the scar to prove it) and I know that it is in good condition and I will take the meds to prevent and potential further complications down the line, How many people out there don’t have the benefit of having that level of understanding? yet still I’m the one that insurance companies deem as as a higher risk? Should it not be the other way around, maybe?

Anyway, I booked the flight on October 5th, for departure on the 24th. This was almost immediately after I had received the all-clear to do so from the eye hospital. 19 Days might seem like a long time to prepare, but truly it didn’t feel that way. The last time I travelled away was back in 2019. Now it seemed that everything had become harder and more complex. I found an old list of things I had packed previously, but this time the list seemed to be twice as long, and with it my bag (when finally packed) felt twice as heavy. The departure date came around quickly and the night before left I was still trying to cull the contents to balance the weight and bulk between the luggage to be checked in at the airport and the smaller amount that would be taken into the cabin with me for the flight. My medication took up a sizeable amount (I couldn’t risk losing that in a lost luggage situation), and then there was the laptop, tablet, camera, spare batteries et-al that left little room or weight to spare. I woke up at 3:30 to get ready for an early off, but even then I still tried to rearrange everything again before I left, pushing my timings dangerously close to the limit. As I rushed to leave the house and close the door of the place where I had been living for the past 2.5 years for the final time, a most welcomed phone call came out of the blue. My uncle, an early riser by nature I think, was calling to see if I was away or if I needed a lift. I don’t think that I would have made that coach without him. It’s almost as though I have had previous!

With his help I arrived at the coach station with time to spare and boarded the coach to Heathrow. 2 hours later I arrived at the airport and entered the terminal, ditching the hoodie I was wearing alongside my waterproof jacket. I still felt like I was carrying too much baggage for where I was going, but I would have time enough to sort more things when I settled on the other side. But before that I had to get through check-in, get a coffee and a bite to eat and then endure one hell of a trip to Shanghai then back down to Bangkok. 

The long way around to try and claw back just some of the losses I had incurred, mostly due to being knowingly fit and healthy. 

2020 to 2023 - The drag on years.

Damn, I was only 19(ish) years from retirement.

It's been a tough few years since my last post. COVID-19 introduced itself and had a devastating impact all over the world, and whilst challenges brought by its arrival could have added more complexity around any thoughts I still harboured of pastures new, the personal impact was in truth, minimal. As efforts were made with immediacy to try and control the spread and impact of the virus globally, I was doing my best here to get my vision restored to a workable level, in the hope that when the situation calmed again both at home and abroad, I would be in a position to leave without unnecessary delay.

Eye, Eye.

At consultations in 2020, as I prepared for cataract surgery to be undertaken, I asked whether it would be possible for the lenses that were going to be inserted to be ones that would leave me a little bit more short-sighted. I reasoned that as much of my work had been screen-based over the years, this choice would give me more of a chance of spending longer periods spectacles-free. It would also be useful for reading any food labels close up as I like to check the nutritional values where possible. It's kind of a diabetic habit. 

The operation on my left eye ended with the minimum focal distance being set long, evidenced by the watch that sat afterwards stubbornly out of focus upon my fully outstretched arm. Not precisely the outcome that I was after.  So when the time came for the right eye to be operated on a few months later, I again stressed my desire for a lens with a shorter focus to be used. I had read that the brain was able to tolerate a certain amount of variation in eyesight strength, so it was my hope that by having one eye slightly longer-sighted and the other slightly short, the brain could adapt to use whichever is most appropriate at any given time. For one day that theory worked beautifully in practice. The following day however would bring discomfort and a distinct lack of definition through that same eye. 

A hospital trip found that the internal pressure had become severely raised, and I was soon given tablets and drops to bring it back in line with where it should be. As the pressure dropped down and the sight started to return, it became apparent that the vision was now less capable than it had been on the day after the operation. Further inspection found that the new implant had shifted, and this had introduced some double vision, with only the slightest dilation of the pupil needed for any bright object in a lower light environment to catch the edge of the lens in its new position. Reflective double yellow lines became lines of three or four, steps with reflective strips became a game of trip chance and crossing the road in the rain would mean taking a punt against an indecipherable mass of lights, all moving at different speeds and different directions. I can recall being in Ha Noi (I think in 2016) and noting how visible traffic could be when large portions of it were just ambiently lit by the city. When not everyone was riding with their headlamps on full blast or every vehicle was competing to throw beams so intense that they could blind or cook a small rodent at 50 paces. At that point in time I would have rather been taking my chances there for sure despite its chaotic reputation. Mine is an edge-case scenario obviously, but I can attest to the fact that more and more bright lights do not always make everything more visible. Blindingly obvious.

It would take several months for a replacement lens to be fitted, but whilst an improvement in some crucial ways, it also brought with it some more problems. The position once again is not exactly correct with a small amount of diffraction due to it being off-centre, and there is a dependency on multiple drops daily to try and keep the eye pressure from going too high. Some internal haemorrhaging can also happen from time to time, but it is as yet unclear whether this is linked to the aforementioned problems or not. An upcoming operation that has been scheduled in a short time from now should allow for further investigations to take place, and whilst not that hopeful of a permanent fix or cure, it would be good to gain a better understanding of how it can be managed more effectively going forward.

At this point in time, I really can not remember fully the list of broken bones and other medical issues that have made themselves known during my nearly five decades on this planet, but it's a list that keeps on growing.

Anyone for cabbage?

The heart has also required a little work, which came in the form of a coronary artery bypass graft, or CABG for short (often spoken as cabbage on the wards) in 2022. There was no real drama into the run-up for me needing this, no grabbing of the chest or severe gasping for breath. My symptoms were overall less severe than one may imagine when hearing the term "Heart Attack", but the end result was no different to many who have suffered such discomfort. Notably, there is now a sizeable scar that runs down the centre of my chest, a reminder of where the surgeons cracked me open so that their particular brand of black magic could be performed. It had been decided previously that the using of stents would not be suitable given the overall condition of the artery in question. Besides, a graft could be a longer-term solution anyway as potentially it could be something that could last for 25 or 30-plus years.

Several months into recovery, the wire holding my sternum in place either loosened or broke which led to parts of my chest being able to move around in a way that was less than ideal. With this additional movement came a level of discomfort that I wasn't entirely at ease with, but I was assured by the heart specialists that whilst it may have felt unpleasant at times (and that was on a good day), the situation was one that wasn't overly dangerous. The decision then was completely mine as to whether I wanted to undergo another operation to sure things back up internally, or just stick with where I was. As the proposed procedure wasn't risk-free to begin with (as ever), and would mean being opened back up again in order for the old wire (or wires) to be untangled, removed and replaced, I wasn't exactly keen. This was despite of the many sleep-deprived nights that I was having to cope with at this time.

The first question that had been put to me after the scans had been examined was “Can you feel any wires poking out of your chest?”, which I was happy to confirm I could not. My first question in response was whether, as things currently stood, there would be a limit to the weight that I would be able to carry, and I was assured that any limit would not be because of the condition of the chest. Having had to adhere to such strict limits for many months following the surgery, I questioned again, pressing as to whether maybe 25kg would be acceptable. This was as direct a question as I could muster. 25kg would have been around the most that any of my backpacks would have held on my longer trips abroad, so when he stated a "no limit" limit, my mind was made up. I decided that I would not go for a second operation. I would deal with the intermittent discomfort if it meant there was a better chance of leaving sooner and hope that over time, that level of discomfort would diminish.

Besides, sometimes it's better the devil you know.

So now what??
Many things have changed in the past few years and it seems like such a long time ago that I was set on leaving. I would still love to get going for sure, but it's difficult at this time to see how I could forge that long-term future away from the UK. Aside from everything else, or mostly because of, my travel insurance quotes have gone through the roof. Surely all of these premiums should be decreasing in price the more of me that gets repaired and/or replaced. Could there be a gap in the market for a new kind of insurance type somewhere between medical cover and mechanical breakdown (with or without home start)? Part man, part machine, all crock.  

Maybe I should just concentrate on leaving first and then seeing exactly how things evolve. Away from this place, either when travelling around or being planted firmly in a location less familiar, I always felt more productive. Now, that boost could well have been the result of some naughty sugars hidden away in my dietary intake, one where I was not fully aware of the contents at the time of consumption, but that's doubtful. It is more likely that I am in need of something else to better fuel my interests. Something different than what I currently have here at my disposal. 

I am feeling again that I need to get away, and soonish. Before the UK has another go at tapping the heels out from under me. The time may now be upon me to start thinking about book three of my unlikely-to-be-written trilogy. 

Open to suggestions at this point.

  

2020 Vision. New Decade, New Challenges, Older Me - January 2020.

The travel bag that I brought lays empty 100 miles away from where I am currently located, propped against my old bed and still wrapped in the same plastic sheet that covered it when it was delivered. The urgency of wanting to embark on (what I hoped would have been) a more permanent adventure before I reached the age of 46 years has now passed. Time has trundled on relentlessly and I've been left somewhat in it's wake and it may now be a little while before I get the chance to get going again, or regain the desire and energy to do so. I'll just have to see what happens.

The eye situation carries on. It was the beginning of August that the sight in my left eye was deemed ineffective enough to warrant the non-renewal of my UK driving licence. Nearly 5 months since and it's still debatable depending on who you ask, whether an operation to remove the still forming cataract is possible and/or beneficial. The fact that with glasses on I can read the letters on a chart at a certain level means that I have yet to reach the point where the operation is deemed necessary, but of course this doesn't take into account the demise of the peripheral vision which in my case is the aspect that has got progressively worse. The last consultant that examined the eye was amazed that I could see as well as I could through it, given how thick the cataract has become over time, but suggested that there could be a slim chance that the case could be made for the operation to be funded given the circumstances. The case would need to be made through the respective medical channels and the same consultant was also keen enough to point out that he's not known of such a case that has successfully had funding approved as yet.

Oh boy.

So whilst I wait to see how this saga unfolds, I am working in front of a screen all day, staring at texts for long periods and straining my eyes further. The impact has been that my visual acuity has diminished sharply over the past four months that I have been back in my role, which now perhaps understandably, is leading me to question just how much longer I can, or should, keep pushing on. Initially this was going to be a temporary role until I could get away and it was a situation that suited both parties, the workplace itself being busy but enjoyable most of the time and the people (generally) good fun and affable. There is no shortage of tea to be drunk and "so poor they are funny" jokes being made, but there have been days recently where I am feeling more Donald Pleasence than Steve McQueen. Moments have arisen where briefly, with or without my glasses, my vision hasn't been sharp enough to comfortably do my job and have required me to break away from my screen for a while. These blurry moments whilst admittedly rare are an unfortunate development and this again is giving me some food for thought. Not  nice, mouthwateringly succulent food thoughts, but more a dry leathery chewy meat type affair that may eventually need to be spat out. Now all I need is Dickie Attenborough to stick his foot out and trip me up and my work time will be complete.

So what now?

I've endured a bit of a poor few months health wise, either from the recurring effects of a flu type virus that I just can't shake off, or what feels like an ongoing barrage of smaller (but no less effective) illnesses which have managed to leave me flat. This bombardment has not only hit me physically, but has also drained almost all enthusiasm from me for wanting to learn or push new ideas forward. The last couple of weeks however it does seem to have lessened it's grip enough for me to make small steps forward. For now this involves me making a concerted effort to restoring my health back to where I feel it should be and this task has already begun. I am heavier than I have been for about 8 years or so, which hasn't been helped by a small spike in weight that has happened since putting myself back into training. In the coming weeks and months however I am determined to lose just over 2 stone and whilst this might seem hopeful, it should be doable. It may just take a bit more determination and effort than it has done in the past.

When this first part of the puzzle starts coming together, hopefully I can then think of new ways to move forward. If I can get a decision one way or another on the eye then perhaps that will free up some mental resource and enable me to work towards something else. I have thought of a few projects that I have almost forced myself into, but none have enthused me in the way that I need to be in order to make any new venture worthwhile. Perhaps I haven't yet hit on that one thing that is a big enough kick to get things to whirring properly again.

There is the possibility of course that this fabled "thing" doesn't exist anymore, lost in time against an ever grey skyline of dirty rain, dull buildings, uninspired graffiti tags and the endless smell of dope that hangs in the Bristol air. I hope beyond hope that this is not the case. Whilst I'm not as yet overly worried about what I could do if I ever found the means or desire to leave for a different existence, I am more concerned about what should happen to me if I don't.

Perhaps I could become an Olympic Ski Jumper...

       

Jazz Club..Nice...20/10/2019

It's been a month. Not a funny month, an interesting, dull or an exciting month. just a month. The most accurate description I can give it is the one with which I started. It has all been rather non-descript. That in itself isn't necessarily a bad thing.

I have rented a room. This is more difficult than you might imagine at this point in my life as many of the rental spaces are for young professional adults, or students, and I no longer fall into either category. Despite my best google searches for variants of "awesome but reasonably priced rooms for middle aged grumpy diabetics", the market does not appear to be awash with such places. In light of this I loosened my search criteria a little. I am now an awesome grumpy diabetic in an expensive room.

I have committed myself to staying here for the next six months. Many people my age have a different set of commitments than I find myself with. Whilst some may have things such as mortgages, marriages and children to be wary of and/or responsible for (or even the odd poker night or football match to attend) I now find myself with something far more serious. I have a pricey gym membership with it's own card and everything. So far I have been a member for just over 10 days, attending 6 times, leaving my wallet behind once and my membership card behind another. I have found in the past that losing a wallet tends to be the easiest way to lose a few pounds, however this time everything was returned intact. I'm just going to have to go about losing it all the hard way.

again...

6 Months I thought would give me the time I need to drop 2 stone/10 kg and get myself back to where I really should be. I have dropped 2lb in the first week so I know that with my regime it's going to be an achievable target. The problem at the moment, as always, is that it's getting the diabetic control and insulin levels to a point that I can really hammer myself productively in an exercise sense. I am, maybe rather surprisingly, by no means unfit. I can go in a do 2 or 3 hours cardio in an evening when my sugars allow it. It's just at the moment my base insulin level that runs in the background is resulting in the need to drink an excessive amount of energy drink to stop myself from crashing. I would like to be less dependent on these going forward, although technically not going forward as the majority of my work is being done on treadmills and stationary exercise bikes. Still, being full up on cherry or orange lucozade sport to the point where you want to be sick just to avoid  collapsing whilst exercising is something that I could really do without right now.

I'm also hoping that these hours will help me to formulate an idea, or even ideas for moving forward. I have been working back in-front of a screen now for just under 2 months, but it's amazing how quickly working on the monitor all day whilst squinting at code has reduced my visual acuity. There are days now where I feel that wearing glasses is beneficial, where over the previous months and years that I have been away from such work, my vision had returned to a point where glasses were not really that necessary. It's clear then from the fact that things are ultimately getting unclear, that my future should probably involve something away from what I am currently doing, or maybe at least for the amount of time that I am doing it. It's a shame really as I do quite enjoy it sometimes. It's nice to be able to lovingly take the piss out of people in a safe environment, where everyone knows that's all I'm doing.

In 6 months here the winter will be almost over and whilst I have no real doubts that it's going to be (on a personal level) a long hard one (whehey?), I hope to have in that time, gained an idea about where I can go from here. The U.K it seems has gone quite mad. Brexit has divided much of the population, people wear shorts in the cold along with bobble hats at the same time to keep warm and this morning I saw people lining up to buy cheese toasties in the local market that were priced at £5.00 a time.

It's not the madness that gets you...

it's the utter, utter madness.

now back to the overly expensive beer, which is unfortunately, worth every single penny at the moment.

...and a bit of jazz.

05/07/2019 - Something old. something new

It was over five years ago that I first thought about teaching English in a country other than the one that I had been born in, or had the experience that would eventually lead to that idea.

That day (Sunday 27th October) I had been recovering after travelling through Cambodia on a group tour. I had been spending some time just wandering in Ho Chi Minh city with my camera in hand, taking in the sights and the sounds of somewhere new before being approached in one of the parks by a few people who wanted to practice their English. What started out as a small group turned into something a bit larger in only a short period of time. I helped them with their pronouciation of words, and they passed on tips about staying safe in Saigon. It was an enjoyable experience and one that seemed like a worthwhile use of time and it was great to feel that I was helping people directly for a change.

It was very different from the jobs that I had been used to doing up to that point. It wasn't being worked to meaningless deadlines, ticking meaningless targets off a meaningless spreadsheet. It wasn't closing off a project ready for the next almost identical project to start immediately after. It wasn't work to me obviously, I was travelling at the time, just experiencing new things and heading towards the big Four Oh, but that wasn't to mean that it couldn't be work at some point. It was enough to get me thinking about the future.

Back in the U.K early the following year I settled back into a job and went about saving up for another trip away. During this time I put my life on hold, spending an inordinate amount of time in the gym on evenings and weekends in order to stay fit for the next adventure. I completed a 120 hour online TEFL in order that I could at least try a short teaching break when I was away to see if it an I were a decent match. I would travel for three months before in order to acclimitise to the different environment before embarking on my evaluation period, but unfortunately just before this was due to take place, I suffered a fracture in my foot whilst in Myanmar and upon getting it checked in Bangkok, decided it was better for me to withdraw from the placement and rest up for a bit to try to let things heal.

After I returned I carried on thinking. In order to work in some of the countries which I had been drawn towards, a degree qualification would either be deemed to be beneficial or a a legal requirement. To this end I embarked on one in a subject that followed my interests, a tool for storytelling and one that I found a little dark humour in given my eyesight issues in the past. At the end of this period I have now achieved a BA (Hons) qualification in Photography. It's taken almost 3 years, but I am now a Bachelor of Arts.

The problem is now is "what do I do with it?"

Five years has passed since that original encounter in Vietnam, a lot of water has passed under that bridge. I would be lying if I was to say that I didn't feel that passage of time. I feel older, perhaps less energised than I was and I am no longer sure of the path I should take.

The other thing that has muddied the water is that I have turned into a bit of a photographer. The final project I completed on my course was undoubtably the best module that I undertook and it is one of which I am a little bit proud, receiving positive feedback on it overall. I feel that I should be trying to carry this forward also, but again I'm not entirely sure the best way to go about it.

There could be a way to marry the two together somehow of course. Perhaps there is a job out there that would benefit from my particular set of skills. I will have to see if anything that fits, and if so find a route that can be taken to it.

I still feel I need to go somewhere. There's still stories to be found and perhaps re-told.

And if it happens you can all come for the ride.

Maybe...