Leaning life skills

Ok, I’m 45 years old. Born 1972, but you know what, I’m glad I was born when I was, because personally I think I had the best years, no mobile phones, no computers as such, and definitely no internet, we did go out more because we had to, there was no bloody choice. Childhood, I had a grifter bike, my best friend had a chopper which I always thought was an automatic bike due to the gear lever looking the same as my dad car, he then sold it and bought a bmx, my friend, not my dad, he was a typical Volvo driver and a bank manager.

Anyway, we used to ride everywhere, we had tons of parks around us, we also went swimming to the local pool, or go into the nearest town, or bus it into Sutton or Croydon. Going to London was easy too, just get a red rover ticket and spend the day on trains tubes and buses.

It felt safer back then as well, leaving school but still hanging onto certain school friends cause you didn’t know anyone else, I worked for a bank, started the job 2 days after my 16th birthday 1988, in northcote road, Clapham, took the train in until I could drive. Sometimes being touched up by the gay married confused commuters. You know those cheap little thrills

I thought I was a yuppie working London, I had a Filofax (empty) but still had one. I was earning great money for a 16 year old. And I was going out, I was a closet gay, and you had to find out the local gay hangouts to get any action or to meet people. I do a different blog on gay dating as I feel this may go on and on.

The local housing estate where some mates lived were constantly being film by the tv program the bill, only place where it didn’t look out of place and no one battered an eye lid.

But we used to hang out there, drinking, smoking, and when the first one to drive got a car, we went to pubs, and these were proper south London pubs, but I was never scared.

Drivers that won’t driveĀ 

I have 2 friends that are both ok their 30’s, gay male, that have issues with driving in certain conditions, a gay couple we know recently went to lanzarote for a holiday, and Callum took his mum along for her first holiday in 20 years, the day before they were due to fly home she was taken ill and was admitted to hospital. 

Callum and Ant had to fly home without her due to work commitments, and his mum was kept in hospital for 2 weeks, the insurance company in the end were not willing to pay for the flight home or to have someone fly home with her, so Callum booked the tickets to fly out on a Sunday and fly back with his mum on the Tuesday. 

The flights he could get were from Gatwick, which is about 2 hours away, now I would of bought he would of driven up there himself and left the car up there, as a couple of days parking charges wouldn’t have been that much money, but for some reason he got a lift up there. On Monday evening he phoned Kev asking if he could pick him and his mum up on the Tuesday, the flight came in at 1.30am, 

Kev did ask why his husband Ant couldn’t pick him up, Ant once attempted to drive to Gatwick, had to pull over at Winchester services (about 20 miles from his house) as he couldn’t go any further and had a panic attack, Ant does not like to travel over a distance of 30 miles as it tires him out, doesn’t like driving on a motorway, or places he hasn’t been before, he has a brand new car, so it’s not as if he’s worried about breaking down, 

Our other friend Chav boy, won’t go out of it’s raining or if the weather is looking dodgy, and he won’t travel more than an hour as it tires him out for too long! 

In the end Kev picked him up, coming home at 5.30 in the morning, and still going to work at 9am, 

Maybe it’s me, but what is it with these 2 guys?? 

Driving to the south of France for a weekend

We had booked our holiday, 12 days in Millau, in the Midi Pyrenees, it’s the most beautiful place in the world in my opinion. We had booked a tent, a posh tent really, on a camp site, it has beds, cooker, the whole lot. And the camp site we had been to many times before. There wasn’t much on the site but location was perfect. So was really looking forward to the holiday. 

Must of been about 3 weeks before we were going when kevs deputy at work fell ill, and was signed of for 2 weeks, Kev was getting worried, it was only him and her in the office, so he started to think up plan b. I’m the end, she was signed of for 6 weeks, Kev had to cancel the holiday. His firm was very good, and refunded the whole lot. The ferries, the camp site plus extra for inconvenience. 

We had always talked about moving to France and I thought this was the perfect opportunity for me to do it alone, if we had somewhere there I would have to do it anyway. So I decided to go it alone. We had done the journey many times, so I knew what to expect, plus we had just got delivery of a libre-tag which enabled me to drive through the French toll booths without stopping, so much easier when you by yourself and he steering wheel on the wrong side. 

Set of for Dover, all good, and they managed to get me on the ferry that was just leaving so I was ahead of time. The most boring part of the journey is from Calais to Paris, cause you not quite half way there, you are waiting to get Paris over and done with and it’s just a boring route. Paris was easy, I drove about an extra hour and decideded to pull into one of the picnic areas for a rest, it was about 3am at this point, now try sleeping in a 2 door, 2 seater MG, eventually I must of passed out as I woke about 7am. The rest of the journey down south was great, so after 700 miles door to door I was at the site. 

Got there about 11am, had a kip, then went to the supermarket to get some bits in, it was strange not being with Kev, as I kept point things out to him and he wasn’t there, I think if I went somewhere we never been before it would of been ok, but in June all the flowers are out and it’s so pretty. 

The next day I went out a few places, all the places we had been before, but I was too shy to eat or drink anywhere, I just ate back at the tent, even got a McDonald’s takeaway to bring back. but I knew I wouldn’t last the 12 days, I was so bored. And I was also dreading the drive home,

Monday morning I woke about 7.30 and decided I was going home, I was ready for the journey, so I packed up the car, cleaned the tent, said goodbye to the owners who even gave me a refund on the stay, and set off, I text Kev saying I was coming home and keep him updated on the journey. 9 major roadworks to Paris! Paris then took 3 hours to get through, then 3 sets of road works from Paris to Calais. 

At Calais I managed to change my ticket for the next ferry, which was now 11pm. All fine. Then at Dover, I got stopped at customs. Where have you been? Well duh! Yeah France. She was a right cow, then she checked everything, I was here for an hour. 

It takes about 3.5 hours from Dover to home, not this time, it took 5. Roadworks! Then I was about 30 mins from home when there was a road closure. I lost it, I phoned Kev in the early hours, to ask him to pick me and the car up from lyndhurst, incomeletly lost he plot, I couldn’t turn around due to the road closures. He calmed me down and told me he direction to go. And I was home within 25 minutes, 

It took me about 3 days to recover from that journey, 1400 miles and about 2 days in the car for 2 full days in the south of France. I’m glad I done it, just to say don’t ever do it again. 

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