You may have
noticed it has been a while since my last post. You may even have been worried I had come to
some harm. But fear not, I think I just
had a case of writer's block. Or more
literally, blogger's block. I seem to
have now gone the other way and have written what is perhaps my longest blog
ever.
In truth, it
has been a very busy few weeks, much of what I'll cover in the next couple of
posts. Those of you tuning in, eagerly
hoping to hear of the exploits of Ma Cormack on her antipodean adventure will
be disappointed. This blog will be to
recap on my trip back to the UK and thus, the "Mary in Mosman" blog
will follow in a few weeks.
So the end of
February saw me jetting back to the homeland. The primary objective being to escort mum back
to Sydney with me. An expat's life and
location can be very precarious and I figured that if mum was ever gonna see
the land down under, I would have to go and literally
bring her. I once worked in Dublin
for 18 months, a 40-minute flight away, and she never got across the water. So I was determined to get her Australia
passport stamp!
The timing
couldn't have been better, with my 1-year contract at work expiring at the end
of February, and me flying to England the next day. With luck (scratches
head and wonders if this is the right word), and maybe a smidgen of hard
work, I had secured a further 1-year contract at the same bank, on the proviso
that my current trip stood and I could have a month unpaid leave. A well documented hand-over to my hard working
team (just in case they are reading) and I was off, knowing everything was in
safe hands 'til I returned in April-ish.
Leaving Sydney
did feel very strange. A much different
feeling to when I went home last year. I suppose I was mentally in a very
different place last year and wasn't sure if it was the start of the end of my
Australian odyssey. A year on and things
are very different. I felt like I was
leaving home, to go home. As a good
friend reminded me at the time, "we are lucky now, we have two beautiful
homes". And he is right.
Returning to
Yorkshire again reminded me of why it is one of the most beautiful places I
have been to in the world. And I have
been to a few. I'm not sure there are
many places that compare. Where folk
actually talk proper. And without
getting too sentimental, although it seems to be happening more as I get older,
I have the best group of friends and family a person could wish for. Maybe an eclectic, diverse set of friends. And a hectic, on the edge of crazy, family. But I wouldn't change any of them for the
world. You guys are what make my trips.
Every day I was
reminded of the importance of keeping your special friends in your life. And how those bonds grow stronger despite the
distance between us. It may sound ironic
coming from me, the guy who upped and left, all alone, as far away as he could
possibly go, yet I have never lost touch with people. A phone call here, postcard there. And what we would do without FaceTime and
Skype these days? My Easter got off to
the best possible start with a call from home this morning.
I only had a
couple of weeks at home, not really long enough to do everything I would like,
but long enough to do many of the things I like. Need I mention the food? Those with a keen eye for detail will already
know I have an obsession with fish & chips.
And not the very inferior version I can get here in Australia. But I mean real, proper fish & chips, wi’
bits and curry sauce. A pot of tea and
slice of bread on the side. Fellow
diners in Blakeley’s of Brighouse may have thought I had just been released
from a long stint in prison, at the rate I devoured my plate. Now THAT is what I am talking about.
Of course
curries featured highly in my “diet”, as did Yorkshire puddings, and the now
annual lamb dinner. Thanks sis, what a
great day that was, even though I did end up driving and chauffeuring the more
inebriated amongst us home.
Service at some
of the eating establishments did baffle me, at times leaving me creased over
laughing at the sheer absurdity of it.
On one very memorable morning I thought we had wandered into Fawlty
Towers, and I kept waiting for Manuel to pop out. Breakfasts were ordered, and arrived, upon
which I thought, “hmm, quite an expensive breakfast to only receive 1 slice of
toast”. The waiter then proceeded to
tell us that more toast was on the way, it was in the toaster!
Now, I have not
spent much time in the hospitality industry, but wouldn’t you wait until ALL
the toast was ready, and THEN bring out the breakfasts?
It got
better. I asked for some brown sauce,
and he promptly returned with some, in a coffee cup!!!! Have you ever seen the like? The morning’s shenanigans didn’t end
there. Half way through munching my
toast, another young chap who worked there, approached me at the table, with a
half eaten cake in a box, and said, “before you forget sir, your cake”. By this point I had fallen off my chair
laughing. Just WHO did he think I
was? And why would I have a half eaten
cake in his restaurant? Good grief, I
said take me home. There is only so much
fun somebody can have in one morning.
One morning I
definitely was not laughing was following a fantastic night out in Leeds. One in which catching the last train home was the target.
The last train was at 11.20pm. It
didn’t happen. Even with the female
contingent bringing their posh handbags (which supposedly means they couldn’t
POSSIBLY stay out late).
Cue a very
funny night, finished by drinking England’s supply of champagne, coupled with
some bizarre concoction that my sister insisted on adding to each drink. I think it may have been slightly off, maybe
out of date, as I think that is why I was so ill the following day. Then again, getting a lift home off my
sister, who took a speed bump so fast I thought we wouldn’t land until we hit
Sydney, could have precipitated my downfall.
I was so green
I could have hidden in a bowl of peas.
And once getting in my own car, my attempt at the same said speed bump
was hilarious. Trying to protect my
delicate head, I rolled up to the bump so slowly that I didn’t get over
it. I just hit it, and the car rolled
backwards. It was going to be a VERY
long day.
There are many
other memories from that trip, way too many to cover in what has now become a
very long post. I hope you are still
with me. But needless to say, I had an
amazing time, even saw a beautiful part of Yorkshire I hadn’t been to before, and
had some amazing food. Thank you. Even if I won’t be adding Ripon to my list of
“must see” places next time.
The usual heartfelt goodbyes signalled the end of this trip, not really knowing when I will next be in the country. So there is nothing else for it, it's time to come the other way, to me. Get planning. Sydney awaits.
Well, once more, like my brief trip home, it is now time to wrap it
up folks. I have to dash. I have a Pannini football World Cup sticker album to
try and find.
Anyone for swapsies?
