Mr V is Back, Back, Back!

Huzzah! I'm back with you after a rather lengthy hiatus from all things blog. I have endured the frigid wastes of England in winter, witnessed (of all things) a White Easter, played a significant part in both lowering and subsequently raising a 90 foot maypole, lazed in the tropical heat of a Caribbean sojourn, succumbed to a skin complaint that has left me looking like the elephant man and put me on antibiotics for the next three months and, most recently, tolerated the combined forces of some of Mother Nature's fiercest pollen-emitting spawn.

But now, dear reader, I return to regale you with the musings of a rather deluded blogger who's still naïve enough to think that there really are any dear readers out there, so here goes:

We had two thoroughly dull months after getting back from Australia, which were spent mostly whining about the weather, catching cold-after-cold-after-cold and generally bleating about how much nicer it was Down Under. Remember when you came back from that crazy two-week holiday to Ibiza when you were seventeen? You know the one, where you became best mates with some really cool kids from Manchester with whom you exchanged addresses and were going to keep in touch with - like - forever (but never did); where all the bar staff knew your name and were genuinely 'sad' to see you fly home. And when you got home you and your friend (who you'd bonded with considerably whilst you were away together) decided that enough was enough, you were both getting off this treadmill, sticking two fingers up at 'the man' and heading back out there as soon as you got the cash together. You'd get a job in a bar, rent a flat together, and sleep with all the package-holiday-tottie that the tour operators could throw at you.

Then, after a week back at work and a dose of antibiotics for the chest infection you developed shortly after your return (probably brought on by the 40-a-day Malboro habit you had whilst away), you realised it was a pretty crap idea, got your head down and started saving for next year's holiday to Zante. Ring any bells?

Well, we experienced a slightly more middle-aged version of this on our return from Oz: Why on earth were we sticking it out in this ill-governed, wet, dangerous country of ours, over-taxed and down at heel as it is, over-run with ugly teenagers in nylon tracksuits and East European immigrants? Why the hell don't we just pack up and ship out, start a new life in a sunny, happy, safe and optimistic country? Now, whilst most (if not all) of the afore mentioned rant is an absolutely valid reason to get the f*ck out of this diseased isle of ours it isn't, of course, all that easy. I have a business; we currently own two houses (we rather wished we didn't, but have you seen the state of the property market at the moment?); we have parents who - if it weren't for Tizer - may very well wish us all the best and send us on our way, but we do have Tizer and Tizer deserves to grow up around her grandparents and her grandparents deserve to grow old around her. So, once again, reality hits (or at least relentlessly tugs at your trouser leg) and you get back into the groove - or the rut, depending on how you look at it.

It's still massively tempting though. The weather, the food, the people, the lifestyle; Australia truly is a fantastic country. I think that the main reason more people don't try and start new lives down there is the same as us - that it's one hell of a long way and, unless you can take your friends and family with you, you have to accept that you're not going to see a great deal of them anymore if you go. Ah well, maybe we'll bide our time and look at one of our other favourite spots - south-west Ireland. Again, nice people, good food and - lest it go unnoticed - some bloody cracking pubs. The weather is far from ideal come winter, but at least you're close to home.

Anyway, less of such musings. That was then, this is now, and we've had a rather jolly first half to the year all told. We had a fantastic two weeks in Barbados at the end of April - I'll pop some photos and stuff on here in my next post - after which I'll have to give you a blow-by-blow account of our great Maypole Festival. Blimey!