Well, I'm here. My new residence is Canada and it has been one hell of a trip to get here so lets rewind a little bit and try to explain how my head turned into a big pile of grey matter coloured blamanche.
The real start of my journey started Friday, 13th August 2010. Not a good day for a life changing start but one all the same. On that fateful day I gave up the one place that I have loved since leaving the Navy, my work. I gave up all the wonderful people who I got along with so well. I gave up a way of life that I seemed to like more and more as I got to know destinations, the roads, hard to reach areas and my skills got better. I gave up the banter with Steve Attwood, Graham Dyer, Mark Stanley, Mark Pickford, Stevie Graham, Heather, Geraldine Lovell, Danny Carter, Dave Bond ect ect..the list goes on, but I gave it up. I even gave up Tonkette, my beloved, beautiful big orange lump of metal, plastic and glass, I gave her up. Anything that was close or important to me, I gave it up.
I tell you now, that was harder than I ever expected.
The following week was just panic, stress, anxiety, questioning what was I doing? Am I doing the right thing? Am I stepping so far out of my comfort zone that my tiny little head wont be able to handle the pressure? All of the above was answer 'YES YES YES.....HELP'. I had to say goodbye to my mum, my dad, my friends at The Volunteers Arms, the leaving do on the Saturday but most of all, my kid brother. That absolutely tore me apart. He was strong for me but it has been a very long time since I cuddled him and cried like a baby.
The Day Of The Move.
Everything had gone. The packers had been the Friday before and taken everything, Scott & Debbie had been up the night before and everything was ready. We all got up early and prepared for the taxi and it was like a monsoon outside. The taxi arrived and the driver, my dad and myself rushed the bags packed with our entire last 17 years through the torrent and into a battered 10 seat Ford Transit coach. I locked the door and we set off. Unless you have done this, I cannot explain how it feels. Everything I explained earlier about letting go of your work, friends, family and the final and out for the count, knock out blow, your home. It actually takes the breath out of your lungs.
The trip to Manchester International Flood zone Airport was pretty uneventful. A few text to a few of the closer people, arrive at Terminal 1 departures, life in bags off the bus, kiss and hug to mum & dad and that's it. It was done. We were on our way and there is no stopping now. We paid slightly more to get premium seats and through check in quicker which was proving a very good idea. Went through Duty Free, Yvonne wanted to do some shopping, I was just an anxious ball of nervousness but needed some food. Went to Burger King (11 am, yuk) and watched that woman putting that cat in a wheelie bin and then decided that I needed to calm my nerves and had the last taste of Strongbow in the form of a pint. Then, through to departures, couple more texts to say cheerio to people and then on the plane. Set off 40 Min's late but no problem really.
Flight was good. Ate well, watched Shrek 4 , drank two miniature bottles of Whiskey and two miniature bottles of white wine with the food and then watched 'Alice In Wonderland' (which was absolute shite I might add) arrived in Toronto on time, went through customs, got signed in as Canadians, walked through o the arrivals lounge to find.........nobody we knew. The website said that we were to arrive at 9pm but we got there at 4. What an anti-climax.
I have written enough for one evening. Tomorrow I will update with jobs, schools, supermarkets and mosquito's.
Love you all
Mark x
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