Storing my bike in Peru when I return to Brazil

 I have made a separate page about "My Bikes" (link here My bikes) but the only way I could "add" posts to that page was by commenting (there may be another way, but that is beyond my skillset). I added a comment last year about how Oli, my Ronco Demolition, had been abused in my absence and how it had cost a lot to get repaired. I had tried to get to Trujillo to a mechanic there, but the logistics of that proved difficult, and a local motorcycle spares shop recommended a Venezuelan mechanic, who had set up shop at a street corner. Eventually he rebuilt the engine for me, and all appeared well.

I didn't use Oli much last year, mainly to get me back and forth to Trujillo for medical appointments as Chip was occupying most of my time, so never gave him a decent run, but he did appear to be running fine, and I had no real concerns. Towards the end of my stay I was considering where to leave him this time, as I was rather reluctant to go through the same drama again, and happened to notice that a mechanic's premises was open again. I had used this young man extensively in the past, but thought he had given up as I never saw any activity at his workshop, but stopped off for a chat. He had opened a second premises a short distance away, and had been working from there, but was running out of space so had returned. He offered to store Oli for me, and then prepare him for my return the following March.

Three weeks before I was due back I contacted him and asked him to give Oli the once over and prepare him for collection when I got back. However when I arrived he said there was a "noise" in the engine which concerned him, and though it was running he would like to investigate further. 4 days later the pandemic hit, everything shut down, and work ground to a halt!

I was under complete lockdown, due to my age, and for the next three months only "essential" workers were allowed to go to work, and people were only allowed out for food purchases, or medical reasons - and the mechanic was unable to work as most motor spares shops were also closed.

Early June some restrictions were lifted and he said he would be able to continue the repairs, but was till finding sourcing parts to be difficult as inter-provincial transport was still restricted to "essential services" only, predominantly food supplies. I did manage to see him at the end of June, and he told me that when he opened the engine he found some damage, and some issues that had not been resolved the previous year, specifically that the counterbalance was missing! It had clearly broken, and caused some "non-fatal" damage inside the crankcase, and never been replaced - apparently the engine will still run without it, but just runs a little rougher, with more vibration.

Crankcase, showing damage right of centre

These pieces were sitting at the bottom of the crankcase, but fortunately had not done any further damage

Oli, stripped and looking sad

Despite being told the engine had been rebuilt the previous year the mechanic said that many of the damaged parts implied this hadn't been the case, and Oli needed a new crankshaft, piston, connecting rod, clutch and, of course, the missing counterbalance! The damage to the crankcase was not severe enough to require replacement. I gave him a substantial advance to cover parts he needed to buy and left it with him - he also offered to re-paint Oli as corrosion was bad in places.

He contacted me a couple of weeks later and said he was having difficulty sourcing the counterbalance, but that the engine would run fine without it - it would just run a little rough due to increased vibration without the counterbalance - and he should have the bike ready soon, once he managed to get the paintwork done.

I was given a series of collection dates, each which came and went with no sign of completion - paint wasn't dry, there were some missing bolts, a new bearing was needed, gaskets couldn't be sourced, and so on - "nothing major"! Eventually I went round and found him there - he had been ill, but was now getting close, but had had to repaint everything as the varnish he had used had not dried, and caused the new paint to run, and was now waiting for everything to dry!

I was given a new collection date, but when I went round the pieces were still hanging like in the pictures. Now there was a new problem, or rather two - the tank had been sandblasted (all the frame had been) and because of corrosion this had revealed some pinhole leaks, and he was unable to find anyone who could repair it, so I would need a new tank, and also the wiring loom was a mess and needed replacing. This last one threw me as the Venezuelan mechanic had told me he had to replace the loom last year as it had burnt out, but clearly had done nothing of the sort! I was beginning to realise I had been well and truly had the previous year! More money for parts changed hands, and I was given a new collection date.

That, too, came and went, and I was given another - "Guaranteed, I give you my word, I need 7 - 10 more days!" On the tenth day, last Saturday, I went round, and was told it would be ready later that day, but I could collect it on the Monday. I tried contacting him before going round, just to make sure, but received no response, so walked round anyway - only to find out that he was closed until Tuesday (turned out it was his daughter's first birthday and was a big deal), but he did message me that evening apologising, and told me that today, Tuesday, he was going to Trujillo for the final part he needed - a bearing for the handlebars - and would message me as soon as Oli was ready!

It is now 9 months since I first made contact informing him about my return to Peru, and 5 months since I was so confident of getting Oli back that I renewed my SOAT (compulsory insurance). I am currently 2 months past the expiry of my tourist visa (but due to the pandemic and state of emergency here Immigration has allowed all over-stayers to remain until we can leave once the borders re-open), and have spent goodness knows how much on taxi fares into Trujillo for medical appointments, and still, as of this moment, do not know exactly when Oli and I will be reunited!

Being ill abroad - part 3

 When I had returned to my room there was another patient in there in the other bed, and a woman sitting on the sofa the other side of the room, Turned out it was her son who had appendix problems, and was awaiting surgery. I had been told to fast after 08.00, and by 19.00 I was feeling very hungry, and, though I had some water with me, had not even been given anything to drink. An orderly came in with a small jug of slightly yellow liquid with a straw in it, but told me it was very hot and I should allow it to cool - it tasted rather like hot water with lemon in it, and soon after I was brought some food. It was a chicken "soup" with vegetables and a chicken thigh in it, but only a spoon to eat it with - and was delicious, and very welcome!! I also got a visitor!! A friend here, who is a vet and married to a British lady, popped in - he works in the city, and brought a "get well" card drawn by his two young sons, and that was very nice!

The surgeon came to see me shortly afterwards and said he would come in the morning and discharge me if everything continued to look OK. During the night a nurse came in several times and checked blood pressure, temperature and so on, for both of us, and the father of the other young man had replaced the mother, and spent the night on the sofa! I didn't get much sleep, partly due to the discomfort of my shoulder, but also it was quite noisy in the corridor outside, so was really looking forwards to being discharged so I could go home! Breakfast was - well, I am not actually sure what it was. It was a very thin, runny porridge-like concoction, served in a mug, that had a slightly medicinal taste - but I was too hungry to really care that much.

The surgeon appeared, as promised, and gave me the all-clear to go home, and then showed me the amount I owed on his phone, so I had the strange experience of paying the surgeon in cash from my hospital bed! A short while later a nurse appeared with a trolley doing the morning rounds. She was dressed in a protective overall, which also covered her head, and had a mask and facial shield as well as gloves, but, very surprisingly, she did not change the gloves after tending to the other patient first, and then removing my cannula!! 

I was then allowed to get dressed and leave, but was given a prescription for antibiotics and pain relief (opiates!) and had to take my samples, which were in two flasks by my bed, downstairs to the lab for the biopsy! I had to pay for the biopsy, and was told I could collect the results the following week, and then waited by the pharmacy to collect my prescription. It was closed, but I was told they would be back in a few minutes, though after waiting for 40 decided to get my meds elsewhere. I was exhausted by the time I finally got home.

I was told that I should keep the dressing dry, so washing became a bit of a chore, especially hair washing, but fortunately the wound did not get infected - something the surgeon was concerned about due to my age and diabetes - and he changed the dressing after three days, for a smaller one, which did make life a little easier!

As soon as I got the biopsy results, which indicated that Chip, was indeed a benign lipoma, and nothing sinister, I emailed them to the surgeon, and he arranged an MRI scan for me, and the day before I had an appointment for him to remove the stitches, replacing the heavy dressing with a strip of tape.

This fell off after a couple of days revealing the scar!

The day of the MRI I had to fast for 8 hours prior to the 20.20 scan, so no food after midday, and I knew that it would probably be after 22.00 before my next meal - in fact it was 22.30 - so I was starving by the time I got back home and bought in a takeaway! The scan itself was OK, though the noise inside the MRI scanner almost drove me nuts! They stuffed some cotton-wool in my ears, but it just seemed interminable, though probably no more than 40 minutes in total, and I was eventually allowed to go home. I could have waited 40 minutes for my "plates" (X-ray type images) or collect them on Monday (this was Saturday), and they would email (or rather WhatsApp!) the "report" to me on Monday as well. I opted for returning on Monday as I was frazzled and so hungry by then.

After collecting my results the following Monday I forwarded the report to the surgeon, and expected him to ask me to bring in the images (and CD they had also provided). The MRI had also confirmed that Chip was a Lipoma, but called it a Fibrolipoma, a fibrous lipoma, which is hard (a lipoma being fatty is usually soft and pliable), and they also confirmed it was non-malignant. Instead of being asked to see him he arranged an appointment with a surgical oncologist, his professor, and I had to take the results along to him.

He took some notes, looked at the biopsy report, examined Chip, muttering about how hard it was, and how big it was, and then looked carefully at all 8 of the images (each one is a series of about 40 smaller images) - I had shown him the report on my phone as I did not receive a hard copy - and said he thought we might need another biopsy, as he was not convinced it was a lipoma! He said from the images it was very close to my ribcage at the back, and looked as though it was attached to, or underneath, my shoulder-blade, but that he would refer me to the Neoplastic (abnormal cell growth, including tumours and cancer) hospital for further investigation!!

5 days later I got my appointment for 09.00, armed with my biopsy and MRI results, and  I arrived more than 30 minutes early. I was directed to "admissions" and to the "new registrations" counter, where I was asked for "copies" of my paperwork! No-one had told me I needed copies, and do not have the facility at home to make them anyway, but they sent me away to get some done - informing me that one of the "security" guards would show me where to go. This turned out to be a pharmacy outside the gates, and across the Pan-American Highway, and they could "copy" but not "print" - the MRI report was on my phone! So at least I got a copy of the biopsy report, but they suggested I go back up to the roundabout a couple of hundred metres away, and maybe one of the businesses there could print my report - I would have to send it to them by WhatsApp and they could then print it!!

I was starting to panic as my appointment time had passed, so tried contacting both the referring surgeon, and the person I was supposed to meet, while trying to get someone to print my report, with no success!

Both surgeons responded quickly, and both said that the printed reports were not necessary as they could do it later! So back I went to the hospital, and security on the gate were waiting for me - and directed me to a different entrance, where my name was called and I was give a "pre-appointment" ticket and sent back to admissions! The first thing the desk asked was for my copies, so I explained the situation and showed them the messages with the two surgeons, and the receptionist then told me I could send the MRI report to the hospital WhatsApp number and she could print it!! Why couldn't they have done this in the first place??

While waiting for this to go through a doctor in scrubs appeared and addressed me by name, but reception told him I had to be processed first so he wandered off again! I was given a ticket I had to take to the cashier, in another building, and pay for the consult, then return to admissions, and was given a numbered ticket for my appointment. Apparently the 9.00 original time was not an actual appointment time, but a registration time - once processed patients are seen on a first-come-first-served basis - so I had to return to the same area the cashier was in and take a seat and wait to be called. I was number 15, but had no way of knowing how many were still ahead of me, as they called people by name, not number, so I just had to wait patiently - for what turned out to be over three hours!

When my name was finally called the lady surgeon (another surgical oncologist) asked me some historical questions (family history, previous medical history, etc.) then took a look at Chip. Again surprise was expressed at size and hardness (of Chip!!) and then she looked at 2 of the images briefly, before declaring that she was sceptical that it was a lipoma, or that it was benign, and that I needed another biopsy! She handed me three pieces of paper and told me I had to take them to the cashier, then collect some "supplies" from the pharmacy (there is one on the hospital) and then return.

The cashier told me I needed to take one to the pharmacy, but I paid for the other two, and then went to the pharmacy with the "prescription" for the biopsy supplies - it is quite normal here for you to have to provide the equipment needed for the surgery, like needles, scalpel blades, and even Lidocaine - and they produced a typed "bill" which I had to take back to the cashier to pay, before collecting the goods!

Back to the consulting rooms and a brief wait before a nurse came out, took the bag of supplies, and then led me into another consulting room, where the surgeon appeared and performed the biopsy. It was pretty straightforward, and painless, and in 10 days I have to go back for the results, and the circus will commence again!

Being ill abroad - part 2

 I should have followed this up sooner, but very little happened over the next 14 months! I struggled to get my blood sugars down while in Peru, and it was consult, more pills, blood test, consult more pills, and so on, with the biopsy not happening, so eventually I asked outright whether they thought it was malignant or cancerous, and though they wouldn't commit themselves, they did say it was "unlikely" at this stage - so I decided to leave it, as it was not causing too much bother at this stage.

Chip March 2019

Returning to Brazil September 2019 I decided to see if I could get it looked at, as by then it did appear to still be growing, and I decided to give "it" a name - so Chip was christened - "Chip on the shoulder", get it? The dentist in the little town I live in in Brazil rents out a consulting room to various medical professionals, and one was an Osteopath, so I booked an appointment, and he took a cursory look and said I needed a biopsy!!! He recommended a hospital in Salvador, some 400 kms away, but when I contacted them they told me they only dealt with SUS (Brazilian Health Service) patients. A friend suggested I contact a Day clinic in the next town, some 70 kms away, as they might be able to help, or at least suggest a viable alternative, so I made an appointment, and after a short wait was ushered into a doctor's consulting room. I explained that I had tried to get a biopsy done in Peru, but they were concerned about my sugar levels (which were still considered "too high"), but he asked me some health questions and agreed to do the biopsy himself - later that day!!

I had to wait a month for the results to come back from Salvador and went to see the doctor again, and the report (not that detailed) said it was a benign lipoma. He told me that he could not do the removal surgery there, and that there were no hospitals nearby that could either, so I would have to get it done in Salvador, the city 400 kms away, but that if Chip was not really bothering me then maybe I should leave it alone for now.

Chip March 2020

March 2020, biopsy scar visible

By the time I was due to return to Peru in March 2020, Chip was still growing and beginning to cause more discomfort. The "lump" itself was not painful, but was exerting pressure on surrounding muscles and nerves, and causing occasional pain in my right arm, but mostly was making it difficult to sleep comfortably. The place I stay in Peru is close to a very large city, with excellent medical facilities, so I resolved to get Chip treated properly upon my return.

Unfortunately 4 days after my arrival in Peru the Coronavirus pandemic caused a State of Emergency to be declared, and Peru went on lockdown! That meant that people were only allowed out for essential shopping, non-urgent operations were cancelled, and many clinics and hospitals refused to attend to high risk patients, and due to my age and diabetes I was one of those! So that meant I just had to try and sit things out, but Chip kept on growing!

May 12, 2020

Chip also starting becoming more painful - I couldn't carry my shopping in a backpack using my right shoulder, and even just walking at times resulted in pain down my right arm, and sleeping became much more difficult. I contacted some hospitals but unless it was cancer, they didn't want to know, and with the country still under the State of Emergency international borders were closed so I couldn't even return to the UK for treatment there!

August 13, 2020

Towards the end of September, when I should have been leaving Peru, some of the controls here had been relaxed, and some friends here found a surgeon who was prepared to consider surgery, so sent him the picture above. I had an online consult with him, and he sent me for blood tests, which returned incredibly high results, so much so that he immediately referred me to another doctor (a specialist in internal medicine), further blood tests, another online consult, and being prescribed insulin and other meds to bring my sugar levels down. I was also tested for liver, kidney and heart functions, as the sugar levels were high enough to cause further complications (they were all fine!). 

September 22, 2020

Throughout all this Chip continued to grow, and continued causing me problems, and the costs were mounting up! Public transport does not run into the centre of Trujillo, so I was having to use taxis to go for tests, and usually that meant a second trip the same day to collect the results! Eventually my blood sugar levels were low enough for the surgeon to consider surgery, but I needed a "surgical risk assessment" from the other doctor, requiring a "face-to-face" consult, and a whole raft of additional tests, which fortunately could be done at the clinic where he worked, though the blood work had to wait until the next day as had to be done "fasting" - no food for 8 hours - and then I had to wait a few days for a follow-up consult!!

I passed the assessment, though on the day of the blood tests my sugar levels were the highest they had been for days, and 30% higher than my own finger-prick test taken just 40 minutes before the full blood work! I then had my first face-to-face consult with the surgeon, so for the first time he actually "met" Chip, and was rather surprised at how "solid" it was. A lipoma is fatty tissue, so should be fairly squishy, but Chip is rather hard, and he voiced concerns that maybe it was not a Lipoma but something more sinister! He still agreed to attempt the surgery and it was scheduled for 4 days away, at yet another clinic! But first I needed a negative rapid Covid test!! I found out that the "rapid" test here takes 24 hours!

The following Monday I checked into the clinic and was shown to a room with two beds where I could undress, and put on a gown (with broken ties so I could not fasten it closed), and wait to be taken to surgery. I had to wear a mask all the time, and the staff all had masks and face shields, as well as vinyl gloves, but what surprised me was that I was placed on a gurney (hospital stretcher) and covered with sheets and a blanket, and taken up to surgical reception, where they transferred me onto another gurney, where I was covered with different sheets and blanket - but a patient waiting to be returned from surgery was then transferred onto my recently vacated gurney, covered with the same sheets they had used for me, and taken away!!

The surgery was to be done under local anaesthetic, and I was wheeled into surgery and they started work on my shoulder, but after about an hour the surgeon said that they could not remove Chip, as he was extremely solid, and appeared to have a blood supply, so possibly was a Liposarcoma, which is a cancerous tumour! But they had taken samples for biopsy and this would confirm things, so I was returned to the ward/bedroom, and kept in overnight!

Social distancing - I have been doing it most of my life!

Much is being made of "social distancing" at the moment due to the Covid-19 (coronavirus) pandemic - maintaining a safe distance between people to try and avoid the transmission of the disease. This is, in some cases, also combined with "self-isolation" where a suspected infected person, but showing no symptoms requiring hospitalisation, or someone suspected of being infected (returning form abroad, or from contact with an infected person) keeps themselves isolated even from their own families within the same building.
The government regulations vary a lot from country to country, from trusting the public to do the right thing (yeah, that is working in the UK!), to more draconian measures such as I am under in Peru - we have a daily curfew between 16.00 and 04.00, as well as Sunday, and the rest of the week, unless working in "essential" services (particular the food chain) you are only allowed out, and only one member of the household at a time, for food shopping, and medical needs, and we have to wear face masks in public. So no long walks, no drives in the countryside (you need a permit to use a vehicle, provided to "essential" drivers by the local authority), and not even outings for exercise. They even, for a short time, had "gender" days, where men were allowed out (for the essential things above) on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and women on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday - so effectively limiting our "available" out-of-the-house hours to 33 a week (the curfew then ended at 05.00)! Most people are accepting these as absolutely necessary to curtail the spread of the virus, though the police and army are still arresting around 300 a day in our Province for breaking the curfew, and so far in 5 weeks have arrested about 16,000!
All over the world we are reading stories about how people are coping, or not, under lockdown, and what you should do to cope - and many of these are coming from the countries with the least strict rules. In my case it has been pretty much life as usual! OK, I cannot go for my usual long daily walk along the seafront here, primarily for exercise, but I manage a slightly shortened version en route to the market or the shops 5-6 days a week. My usual routine - pre-lockdown - would have included rides on my motorbike, Oli, once or twice a week along the coast to deserted fishing spots, or longer rides, solo, to nearby towns in the Andes, or even journeys lasting a few days to further locations, again solo, and staying in single accommodation (as opposed to sharing a dorm room as many travellers do, for company as much as cost) - as well as trips to the supermarkets in Trujillo, 10 km away. But most of the time I spent alone, but not lonely - never lonely!
While in Brazil (for the other 6 months of the year) my routine was very similar, though I do have a garden surrounding my house, and live in a much more beautiful area, being in a National Park, so my bike trips tended to be shorter, and my walks less frequent (steep hill from my house into town!).
You see the pattern here? Solo/alone - both through choice - I have kept my social distance almost all my life, and so now when it is enforced it is not an issue. I was a very shy child, so much so that my parents worried about it - only telling me about this when I was in my late teens - and though I did have friends, I always (and this was repeated throughout my life, even as an adult) had a limited circle of close friends, rather than loads of acquaintances around me. In social situations I sat to one side, aloof and silent, though in later life I over-compensated by become garrulous, talking too much to fill the embarrassing gaps in conversations. Dating was a non-starter as such a shy person, and living in a small town in Mozambique during my "formative" years, where social conventions were very restrictive as well, meant I never really had a proper girlfriend during my teenage years.
We moved a lot when I was young - to Angola, and later Mozambique, and boarding school in what was Rhodesia - then as an adult I started working in Beira, Mozambique, after one year moved to Johannesburg, South Africa, then a year later to Durban, where I stayed for 3 years. This meant that I never had "life-long" friends, always moving on and leaving people behind, years before social media meant we could keep in touch, so maybe I developed a mechanism where being on my own was the norm, and the safest place to be. After I returned to the UK at 25 I then spent the next 30 years in Norfolk, within a 10 mile radius, but initially working with my family, and then married, I did not socialise that much - certainly not alone. In 19 years of marriage not once did I go out on my own for a night out, partly due to the fact that much of the time I worked night shifts, but also because family life was what was most important to me.
Since my divorce, apart from a few years when my daughter lived with me, I have lived alone - so that is for the past 15 years - and it has never bothered me. I am very independent, and, I think, very capable of managing alone, and do not feel any need to have other people around me. I would like to see my daughter more often (she is in t he UK and I am currently in Peru!), but thanks to social media we can easily keep in touch, and can chat using Skype if we feel the need. On the whole, though, I do not feel any driving need for social interaction, and, in fact, will actively try and avoid social contact on occasion. If I was not under lockdown conditions right now I would probably not do things very differently - I would go for rides on my bike, and longer walks along the seafront, but I would still be practising social distancing, and keeping myself to myself!

Choosing a Career - Part 6. The endgame!

A few months into my time in the Supermarket bakery, and still the lowest ranked baker (all the "workers" were grade D, but wage increments were based on time served, so I was still the lowest ranked and paid) we arrived one week to find that our department manager had been sent on a project (trialling part-baked bread), his assistant was absent sick (long-term), and the Senior Baker also went absent sick, leaving us with no-one in charge. The other younger bakers seemed reluctant to step up, so I did, and basically ran the bakery for the next 4 months! I was first in, and many times last out, did all the ordering, all the production planning, and all the staff scheduling, which was a nightmare as we were three men down, and at times more due to holidays and sickness! Every week I submitted the time sheets which always had a big overtime element for me, and no-one higher up ever queried it! The overtime sheets were supposed to be signed and approved by a manager, but I was doing it myself, and not once did anyone question this! The "fresh food" manager, whose responsibilities covered the bakery (as well as produce, deli, fish and meat) avoided coming anywhere near the bakery, as he "felt we were doing OK"! During this time my wife's sister was getting married in Dubai, and I couldn't go as I had to stay and run the bakery! Understandably tensions ran high at home, but I felt I had no option, and the extra money was very, very welcome - I was sometimes working a 70 hour week instead of the normal 35, with the extra at overtime rates! The situation only improved after a Store Manager "swap" - our manager and another did an exchange for a couple of weeks, and the "new" manager asked me about our staffing schedule - as he could see we were really short - and asked me about my role as he could clearly see that I was struggling. When I explained I was the most junior baker he was appalled that I had been left like that to run the department with no help from above - and two days later he arranged a relief bakery manager relieving me of my unwanted responsibilities! Shortly after that the others returned from their various illnesses and things got back to some sort of normality.
A few months later, however, I hurt my lower back while at work - I was emptying dough out of a mixing bowl, following correct work procedures, when I felt a sharp pain near my right hip. I continued working, but was in considerable pain, so next day off (we worked 5 days out of 7) went to see my GP who told me I had pulled a muscle and best thing was to work through it, but to be careful. However over the next week or so it got gradually worse, so much so that I could not stand still on my right leg, and it used to take me several minutes to climb the stairs to the canteen, so eventually I had no option but to initially sign myself off work, since my GP still seemed unwilling to. It turned out that I had damaged my sacroiliac joint, and by continuing to work had caused further damage, so much so that it was decided that I could no longer work in the bakery doing physical work. This took several weeks to play out, and by then I was back at work but doing like duties in the personnel department, mainly performing filing. When it was realised I could no longer be a baker I was moved to the general office, doing administrative work, including answering the phone, and escorting the cash collections from the checkouts.
I was then asked if I would like to join the newly created stock control team - our job was basically to investigate gaps on shelves once the night shift (no 24 hour trading at our store) had finished replenishment. The stocking system was semi-automatic in that all sales were instantly taken off system inventory, and using algorithms the system automatically re-ordered stock for arrival the following day - so in theory there should never be any empty shelves, and it was our job to find out why there were. There were other factors I will not go into here, but human error was often to blame!
The work was OK, and the working hours reasonable - early starts and early finishes every day helped the situation at home, as I was able to be home by the time my daughter finished school. The pay wasn't that good, but at the time my wife was bringing home more than me so we were OK financially, but both needed to work full-time. I was still keeping an eye on jobs in the area and spotted a vacancy for an Accounts Clerk with a local charity, very close to our home, so I applied and was invited for interview. They were relocating their Regional Administrative offices to Norfolk, and none of the existing staff (other than the Manager) were making the move, so I joined a brand new team a few weeks later.
We were located next door to an Activity Centre owned by the charity, and as accounts clerk I had quite a lot of daily contact with the centre, and we were included on a rota to welcome guests on a Friday night for the weekend stays. It was nice to get back into accounting, and to learn how to use a basic computerised accountancy suite, though I was little more than a bookkeeper/data entry clerk as one of the trustees dealt with the accounts proper. 
During this period my wife had to give up work on medical grounds, and was unable to take on employment for some time, and was medically retired from her current job. This put enormous strain on our finances, and on our relationship, as I was not earning enough alone to support us fully. While on my first vacation, after a year, it was decided that I needed to try and find much better paid work, easier said than done, but upon my return I found out that the Activity Centre Manager's position had unexpectedly become vacant - the person who was supposed to take over the role had issues with his reference, so they were re-advertising. Having seen much of what the job entailed, and knowing the salary and benefits (free housing was one!), my first reaction was to talk to my wife about it, and her family were round that evening so we had a discussion, and it was decided that this could be a really great solution - the salary was much better, the free housing meant we could rent our house out to pay off the mortgage, and my wife would not need to worry about finding work, or she could do whatever she felt able to without any pressure.
The next day, after checking with my boss, and he with the charity's area commissioner, I threw my hat in the ring! They had to go through with a rigorous selection and interview process, culminating in an overnight stay at the property with spouses/partners and two interviews, and I was awarded the position! It was like our prayers had been answered.
Over the next few months I trained as an instructor in Archery, Kayaking, Canoeing, Climbing and Abseiling (Artificial Tower), as well as training staff - the assistant left the same time as the previous manager, and we employed GAP students who we trained as Summer instructors - and working on many areas of the "business" that desperately needed improving. I was finally doing something I really enjoyed, and I felt that I had found my "place" in life, and I really seemed to be good at it!
The supplied accommodation was going to be improved and extended so my wife decided at first to stay in our own home until it was complete, though that was going to take several months, but then she dropped a bombshell saying she had no intention of ever moving, and that I should move back home! My job required me to live on site, so moving back was not an option, and long-term we couldn't afford to run two homes - it depended on us both living in the free housing and renting our own house, but she would not have any of that. From elation about how things had turned out to despair in the space of a few minutes - but I was not about to give up the job of a lifetime, so felt I had no alternative other than to petition for a divorce. Seems a bit harsh choosing my new career over my marriage, but I knew that if I gave up that job I would struggle to find anything paying nearly so good, that I would regret it for the rest of my life, and we would probably lose our home anyway, and with it our marriage, so it was really a no-brainer! I threw myself into my work, and as it was showing positive results I was really enjoying it - it hardly felt like work. I mean what job entails spending time out on the river in a kayak "playing" with a bunch of kids - and getting paid for it!
It turned out that this was my last career move, and I spent the next 8 years there, until one day they decided to have an operational review, which included reviewing all the jobs. Their decision was that the manager needed a formal business qualification, so after doing a great job for 8 years, in their opinion too, I was no longer qualified to do it anymore, so I took redundancy! It also turned out to be my last paid employment (other than a couple of temporary contract jobs) so I moved to Brazil, and have only done a little unpaid voluntary work (here and in Peru) since then. I do feel that managing an activity centre (with 44 beds, camping ground for 600, and a variety of outdoor activities) was my idea of a perfect job, and am so pleased that I managed to find it eventually!

Choosing a career - Part 5

My foray into Engineering had been short-lived, but enjoyable, but here I was back full circle to the bakery I had created, but now working for someone else. Unfortunately a succession of highly paid "managers" had almost destroyed the business we had created, allied to the owner's lack of knowledge how to run a village grocery store. He had learnt nothing form what we had tried to pass on, and grocery sales were much lower as his pricing policy was foolish, to say the least. He had still not grasped the concept that we had to try and compete on some level with the local (5 miles away) supermarket, at least with KVI products ("known value items" or everyday purchases), and the Cash & Carry we used allowed us to do that, but at very reduced margins on those items, and he was unwilling to accept those poor margins (ignoring the fact that we made more on other products).
The quality of the bread had declined alarmingly, too, so correcting that was my first priority, and relatively easy to do, however in order to afford to pay a bakery manager, something we still felt was the job he should be doing himself, he had branched out a great deal into the wholesale trade, but was giving away most of the profit by doing this, and it meant he also had to employ a delivery driver and buy a small delivery van, further affecting his "bottom line"!
I lasted over 2 years in this role, though throughout that time my "assistant bakers" were inexperienced and unqualified, but were there more for "muscle" than skill so it was not too bad. The problem was that it was a 6-day a week job, and the owner was reluctant to allow me any time off for holidays, as he had no one capable of running things in my absence, but offered me payment ("cash in hand" or tax-free, which I declined) in lieu of holiday. The only time off I got in those 2 years was a week I took in order to replace my back door at home, when he stood in to do the work at the bakery.
Eventually, though, I had had enough. If I complained about the hours (which were around 60 a week!) he threw more money at me, if I asked for holiday time with my family, he offered me more money to forego it, and was continually telling me that he had big plans for the business and that I would soon be in a more senior daytime role. When I told him I wanted to leave his response was - offer me more money - but I knew that the business could not afford what he was offering me (far more than any of my family had received as a partnership share before, when the business was taking more money!), but he then tried emotional blackmail, saying that if I left he would probably lose the business, and his young family (second wife) would suffer! It was all to no avail as my marriage was suffering with the time I was putting in, all night shifts, and arriving home around 06.00 - or later if the delivery driver was a no-show so we had to deliver as well!
I stayed in the bakery industry, initially at new supermarket locally, but that was short-lived due to differences of opinion with the store management - my department was never fully staffed from day one, and I was having to pick up the slack so working excessive hours, and every week I was being questioned about the hours I was putting in, and then being told they would recruit more staff, only for them to go back on that later the same week, and then complain again I that I was putting in too many hours!. There followed a period of time when I worked for three different small craft bakeries in fairly close succession, though I use the word "craft" broadly as most of them were not producing a "craft" product, but again chasing turnover. None of the owner/managers had a real clue how to treat staff, or how to make bread (one was even the former bakery manager who had almost ruined the business my family had created), and again excessive hours was the order of the day, though since none of them had given us contracts of employment (a legal requirement they ignored) we had no right to overtime payments, and no right of recourse. At all three my excellent reputation had preceded me and they were all delighted to have me join them, but unfortunately the way they treated staff was appalling, and none of them had the skills necessary to run a business.
During this time I was also looking to move on, though without the necessary paper qualifications it was extremely difficult, and eventually I ended up back in the Supermarket world, this time with one of the market leaders in their in-store bakery. By now (it was the same group I had been with back in 1982) their bread was somewhat better, though still not "craft" quality, but their systems were streamlined, they treated staff reasonably well, and I had no real responsibility so was happy as one of the bakers - the oldest by some way, but the most junior as the newest arrival. I had by now almost given up on being able to find my ideal career, but also knew that I had not nearly reached my potential.

Choosing a career - Part 4

I was around 33 at this time and undecided what to do when I finished at the bakery, so I popped in to a Careers Advice Centre near where my parents now lived - they also had jobs advertised as part of the Jobcentre network. The advisor there suggested I try their aptitude test, which only took a few minutes, and while waiting for the system to spit out some results they mentioned to me that they were trialling a new psychometric test which took half a day!! The next was on Saturday (it was Tuesday) in a different town, but there were vacancies - normally this test would cost about £50 but was free to the invitees for the trial.
There were around 20 of us there and we were told there would be about 12 different tests, lasting different lengths of time - we would be told when to start and when to stop, but not how long we had for each test! The tests were varied, from mental arithmetic, general knowledge, spatial awareness, and even manual dexterity - and the times allowed seemed very short! We did 6 tests then had a break for refreshments, and I found that, like me, the attendees were struggling to complete the tests in the time allowed - that was a relief as I was beginning to think I was thick! When we had finished the organiser explained that not being able to finish each test was part of the test!! It was supposed to put us under stress to see how we handled that - and when he found out that I had actually completed 4 of the 12 tests he was amazed, as no-one had achieved even one before!
While waiting for the results, which would take a couple of weeks, I started working for an Engineering company - a friend worked there and told me they were recruiting short-term workers, and I ended up in the machine shop, working on a power guillotine alongside a 64-year old about to retire! We had to chop up steel following simple drawings, and the work was physically hard, but relatively easy, the pay was OK, and weekend overtime usually available, as well as a productivity bonus! We were initially employed on 13-week contracts, then laid off during a "shut-down" and immediately re-hired for a further 13 weeks (most of us were contracted to do overtime during the shut-down, too!). The government of the day had introduced a job creation scheme where they paid part of the wages of any "new" employees hired for at least 13 weeks, so many companies realised that if they hired and fired at 13 week intervals then they would get a big chunk of the payroll paid for by the state!
I received the results of my psychometric test and had an appointment at another different Jobcentre! My results were excellent, among the best they had seen, and my aptitude demonstrated that I could pretty much choose any career I wanted, and this included professions like legal, medical, etc. However - and there is always a "however" -  entry into these professions was almost impossible past 30, since the years of study and training required meant that many companies would not invest in "older" candidates (I would have required sponsorship from a firm to attend university) since the "pay-back" time after qualification was limited. It left me with very few options at my age to think about starting a new career track, and opportunities in Norfolk limited them further.
By now I had been offered a permanent job at the engineering company, and they were talking about multi-skilling all the workforce, so we would be moving round the machines (there were power presses, punching machines and sheet metal fabricators), and learning new skills like welding, so I put any career aspirations outside this on hold. My first child was also on the way so I needed a regular, steady income, and with occasional stretches on night shift (with enhanced pay rates) and weekend overtime when I wanted, I decided to maintain the status quo.
My colleague retired and I "inherited" his machine with my own assistant, but I was waiting for the multi-skilling opportunity that everyone else, except me, seemed to be getting. Eventually I asked my foreman about it, and he was genuinely shocked - I was the youngest worker with his "own" machine, and he thought I was happy - though rather it was that he was happy knowing he didn't have to worry about output from that machine! They did, however start training me on other equipment, but I never got round to the welding!
The work was hardly high-quality "engineering" as tolerances were pretty generous, but it did give me an insight into a different world of working practices, and in attitudes by the workforce - at breaks (tea break, lunch) and start of day the men would all stand around, even after the "hooter" had gone and wait for the foreman to come and say "All right, lads" before starting, and if he was late (at a meeting, or just elsewhere on the site) we would all still wait until we got the "nod" to start again! "It's his job", they would tell me if I asked why.
My daughter was born just after I got my permanent status and the regular reasonable income, especially on night shifts, though not brilliant, meant I was in no particular hurry to move on, especially as my wife was not yet working again. The company had factories at two locations locally (as well as one in Holland), the other some 30 miles away, and a change in management meant we embarked on a "customer service" training course, to be held at both factories and with some workers from each travelling to the other site for sessions. They were stressing that we were all customers, as well as the final purchasers of the trailers - and that each department was a customer of the preceding one along the production line, so we had to work together, rather than try and compete (and make life difficult for the others!). At the end of the training session we all had a "meet and greet" with a senior company employee, and we got the Financial Accountant, who then opened up a question and answer session. I asked why they didn't give the staff more information about how things were going for the company, as the notice boards were devoid of any company information - his response was that they "didn't think we were interested"! He then went on to tell us the company was doing reasonably well at the moment, with full order books, but that we shouldn't get complacent as it was a very competitive industry.
The next day I started a two week holiday in Kenya (where my in-laws lived), during one of the regular shut-downs, and returned to find that they had just laid off a third of the workforce as business was bad! I was appalled that the Accountant had stood in front of us and lied about the situation - as I couldn't believe that he was unaware things were that bad, but either way the signs were not good for the business. I decided that maybe the time had come to move on, before I was forced out into a very limited job market locally. For some time the man who had bought our grocery shop/bakery had been pestering me to go back and help save his bakery business which was being ruined by highly paid "managers", and I had been rejecting his advances, but a few days later he contacted me again, and offered me a lot more than I was earning in engineering to go back, so I decided to jump ship and change career path again.

Choosing a career - Part 3

My parents had returned to the UK in 1977, the year before I did, and my Dad said he was "semi-retired" at 51. They bought a small village grocery store in Norfolk, and my sister joined them, and they kept on a lady who had worked for the previous owners for many years so knew the ropes, and all the local customers! I don't think any of them imagined how hard running a village shop was, but everyone seemed to enjoy it - this was in the days before Sunday trading was prevalent, so it was only a 6-day a week job, though they all git an extra day off in the week (but Dad generally worked through most of his!).
The plan was that upon my return I would help out, while looking for a job in accountancy, though I soon realised that they really needed my help - Dad was the only driver back then, so had to do the weekly "cash and carry" runs on Monday, as well as the twice-weekly runs to the bank. The business was growing apace, mainly due to the fact that we were novices, so had no preconceptions, and provided the sort of service that we would have expected as customers - and it paid dividends! With 4 "partners" the business still was not really generating enough profit for all of us (Mum, Dad, my sister and me), despite the fact that we all lived in the attached house above/behind the shop. 
I started putting out feelers, and had a few interviews, but soon realised a huge problem that I had not foreseen - in the UK manual accounts was a thing of the past, and my lack of computerised accounting experience was a huge issue! Time and again my lack of knowledge in that field was the stumbling block, and even though I was pitching for jobs well below my experience in other areas, I was being turned down - even for "starter" jobs, as I was "too old" - at 25!
The shop was actually a double-fronted one (it was a converted semi-detached house) and the other half we rented out to a hairdresser, and when she decided move on we looked for ways we could utilise that second shop to our advantage. Initially Dad was keen on a mini garden centre - he always had green fingers - but one of our grocery supply reps suggested a bakery! There was a national bread strike on at the time, and he serviced a couple of small bakeries and said they were doing extremely well. We all fell about laughing as we had no baking history in the family, but the idea caught on - it would complement the grocery business, and also provide a draw to a new customer base. I was tasked with doing some research - a feasibility study, if you like! Eventually I found a local bakery where they would "teach" me the ropes and after only two nights decided that we could make a success of it! To cut a long story short here is the link to that Opening a bakery which we opened in 1979, and traded very successfully alongside the grocery business, increasing shop turnover by an additional pound for every pound value of bread we sold as customers came for bakery goods, and bought other things in the shop!
My change in career direction from aspiring accountant to baker had been seamless, I really enjoyed baking - it was very satisfying to create something from raw materials rather than just being a small cog somewhere along a process! I did leave the family business briefly (for around 6 months) in 1982 for personal reasons, and got a job with a large UK supermarket chain as a trainee bakery manager - they used small-scale industrial processes, with machines doing most of the "manual" work, and with chemical additives to speed up the processing time, resulting in, at that time, a product that could not really be called "bread"! However I did return to the family business, and started developing the bakery side further, increasing our  confectionery range.
In 1986 Dad decided to retire - he had turned 60 and discovered that he was no longer liable for capital gains tax on the sale of the business - and we (my sister and I) realised that we could not realistically keep the business going with just the two of us, if we lost half our labour force, as the cost of replacing both our parents' work contributions would be unsustainable, especially as they needed to withdraw capital also (so effectively we would have had to buy them out!) to buy a house to retire to. So the business was put up for sale. It did not take that long to find a buyer, either, and as part of the deal I agreed to stay on for up to 6 months to help with the transition (as he also had no prior grocery or bakery experience!)
Despite trying to convince the new owner that he, or a family member, should be the main baker - the most "expensive" job - he immediately started looking to employ a bakery manager (after offering it to me first!), who was being paid more than a partner's share had been under our ownership! He made quite a few more changes to the way the grocery business was run, too, most of which had a detrimental effect on customers, as prices started rising considerably. By the end of my 6 month "transition" I was pleased to be moving on, and embarked on another change of career - this time into engineering!!

Choosing a career - Part 2

That first year of accountancy in Beira, Mozambique, was awesome - the work was interesting (I know that accountancy has a reputation for being boring, but not to those who work in that field!), and I got to visit some amazing places as part of the job. We used to fly to clients in distant parts of the country, all expenses paid, including an "out of town" allowance (which paid for drinks!!), though we had to work long hours - often finishing after 22.00, returning to work after our dinner - to minimise the amount of time we were away, and always flying back home for the weekends.
At the end of that year I managed to get a transfer to our Johannesburg, South Africa, office. Independence was looming in Mozambique and an uncertain future, so I requested a transfer and set off on a new adventure. Johannesburg was, however, for an "outsider" a nightmare place to live. I knew no-one, and though the work was still interesting, I felt incredibly lonely - more so than I have ever felt in my life, before or since. Our firm was taken over by a larger firm of accountants, and we all were feeling a bit lost in the new organisation. Some of our senior staff members were "demoted" to semi-senior (each team consisted of a senior (a qualified accountant), a semi-senior (often time served but not yet qualified), and a junior (still in articles), but the team I was allocated was headed by an office manager (our senior, who only occasionally came on the audits), Vincent, who was time served and waiting to take his final exams, and me. It meant that Vincent and I were often the only two at the client's premises, so Vincent was doing the "senior" role, and I was doing a combination of "junior" and "semi-senior", despite my relatively novice status in terms of time served. I was more than up to the task, and was treated almost like an equal, even when Bill, our team leader, did turn up! It did mean that I was learning far more quickly than my peers, and proving my abilities.
I still hated living in Johannesburg, though, and towards the end of that year put in for a transfer to our offices in Durban. I had spent my university years in Pietermaritzburg, some 45 miles from Durban, and still had many friends there, so felt that the move would be good for me. Two days after my request was submitted, Bill - my team leader and one of the office managers - called me in and told me he had denied the request - he felt that I had so much potential that Johannesburg was a better place for me, than a "provincial" city like Durban. I was extremely flattered, especially as Bill was dry-humoured Scotsman not given to lavishing praise on anyone, but I explained that I was unhappy living in Johannesburg, and that I just felt I could not remain there, so would probably leave anyway. The following day my transfer was approved, thanks to Bill, but he stressed that I was always welcome back on his team in Jo'burg!!
There followed two and a half wonderful years in Durban. I continued to progress ahead of my peers, helped in no small part by the fact that I was always willing to take on travelling audits, even from other sections, something many of the young auditors in Durban were unwilling to undertake. Working in an unfamiliar team worked in my favour, too, as they treated me as a more senior member than my "time served", and I always stepped up to the plate and out-performed my peers.
My progress with the university qualification was slow-going - distance learning was not as easy as attending the local university, but was a lot cheaper, though still a strain on my articled salary. I arrived in Durban earning more than similar time served colleagues (and more than the "recommended" salary suggested by the Accountancy Board), and my pay had been frozen for 18 months, so 12 months after arriving in Durban I spoke to the staff partner about cancelling my articles, and giving up aspirations of qualifying as a Chartered Accountant, as the financial cost at that stage was too much for me. I was offered a 2 year interest-free loan, but would have been in the same position the following year, with new fees due, and still a year left on this year's loan! I  intended to swap to a Chartered Secretary qualification (more of a Bookkeeping qualification, but still a serious accountancy qualification - and the one held by my team leader/office manager in Durban), and eventually they agreed to this, and rewarded me with a very substantial pay rise! As I was now out of Articles my pay grade and promotion within the firm was no longer limited by the Accountancy Board rules, and I soon was leading some small audits of my own, and being relied on very heavily by my direct manager - I was always prepared to put myself out, and test my limits, and he appreciated not having to "supervise" me any more.
At the end of 1977 it had been three years since I had seen my family, who had now returned to the UK, and keeping in touch not nearly so easy as now. Mail took around 3 weeks, so urgent communications were either by Telex or Telegram, as phone calls were very expensive, and not that reliable. I was considering a holiday in 1978 to see them, but the cost was a major stumbling block, so I was also wondering whether a permanent move back to the UK might be advisable, continuing my accountancy career there. South Africa was also by then heading towards independence and a somewhat uncertain future for "whites", especially foreigners, so it was possibly a good time to consider a move. I was in a quandary - if I went for a holiday and liked it the cost of returning to Durban, packing up, and then relocating to the UK was prohibitive, so in the end I decided to make the move when my holiday was due, and so in May 1978, I left Durban, and Africa, and my burgeoning career, and returned to the UK.

Choosing a career - Part 1

Choosing your future career is a really big deal - it could be the job you are going to be doing for the next 40 years or so, so is not something to take on lightly. I know that it is always possible to change your mind, and your career path, at any stage in your life, but since some careers require years of study and then specialised training (medicine, law, etc.) making the right choice as early as possible is quite important.
When I was young I wanted to be a vet - I have always loved animals, and felt that working with them would be great, but the realisation that sometimes you might have to euthanize them, or deal with horrific injuries, something I didn't think I could cope with emotionally, changed my mind. I considered marine biology, something I am still very interested in, but I have a fair skin that burns very easily (and very badly!) and decided that an outdoor water-based career was probably not a good idea. That was about as far as my career plans went until I was in my mid-teens.
At school we studied a variety of subjects until "O" (ordinary) level, and then switched to just 3 subjects for "A" (advanced) level, and generally these three were subjects required for the degree we planned to study at university, and this degree was going to be the foundation of our career path, so by "O" level we were supposed to have a good idea of what we wanted to do. I had no idea at all by then! A year before "O" level we were interviewed by a Careers Master who talked through our options, but for a few of us, like me, we sat an aptitude test to help with our career decision.
This test consisted of about 100 multiple choice questions, with things like: What would you rather do? 1. Cook a meal, 2. Read a book, 3. Play sport, and we had to stick a pin through the box next to our selected answer. Turning over the paper at the end (the Careers Master did this) the pinholes had made a pattern on the back, they actually corresponded to points on a graph, and this was supposed to indicate where our strengths lay. Mine was pretty much a flat line! This meant I showed no particular tendencies, preferences or strengths, and was of no help whatsoever! I was told, however, that this was no problem and that we could revisit it a year later on completion of "O" level.
I loved languages, and had an aptitude for maths, but my shyness made me disregard a teaching career, and I could not really see many options open to me. My father was an accountant, so I was gravitating towards that, following in his footsteps, but with no particular enthusiasm at that stage, though by the time I re-sat the aptitude test - a different one - my responses were slightly more focused and indicated that a career in accountancy might be a good choice! English and Maths were pretty much pre-requisites for a degree leading to an accountancy qualification, so that was easy, but selecting the third "A" level subject was proving difficult. I wanted to do French, but it was what they called a "subject block" meaning that, due to insufficient teachers at our relatively small school, French and Maths could not be taken together (at least the year I, and two others, wanted to do them!) - and my other options were limited to History and Geography! I had not taken either subject up to "O" level, and neither held much interest for me, but I chose History, though swapped to Geography after one term as I was struggling and not enjoying History, though didn't fare much better with Geography either!
The first year (of 3) at University studying for a Bachelor of Commerce degree - with a BComm you still had to do 3 years "articles" with a firm of chartered accountants before sitting your board exam - was tough. Subjects like Accountancy, Economics and Business Law were new to all of us (Maths and English made up the other two), and at first might as well have been Chinese. I was really struggling, especially with Law, and at the end of the first year was not doing well, and decided to change track the following year to a Bachelor of Arts with a view to teaching Modern Languages.
Subjects for year 2 were English, French, German (never done it before!) and Psychology (again new to me!), with Maths thrown in as my 5th! I was not totally sold on the idea of teaching, but basically had chosen subjects I felt I could do well in, and then looked at careers' options using those! It was not a good basis for a degree path, and I did not, to my sham, try very hard that year either. I have always had an aptitude for languages and my German professor could not believe I had no prior knowledge, as I picked up the basics very easily, but Psychology was another mystery to me - I prefer right or wrong answers rather than different interpretations!
At the end of year two I dropped out of University and decided to join a firm of Chartered Accountants, going the longer route to qualification - 5 years articles while doing a degree through distance learning (UNISA - University of South Africa), and I wished I had considered this before, because actually working with real life accounts it all made sense rather than the theoretical work in a classroom! I started work in Beira, Mozambique, for the firm that used to audit the company my father worked for, and soon discovered that I had a real aptitude for the work, despite the fact that I was having to speak Portuguese (my second language that I have been speaking since I was 7!) and learn the terminology in a foreign tongue!