Brighter side to cold dark days

What a grumpy old cow I was in my last post, what a whinge! I'm glad to say that I have slapped myself out of it. I have signed up to do a course which will help with my aim to become self employed, signed up with some agencies which may help me move to a job where I can have more realistic hours to enable me to find the time I need to set up on my own. And I've also been to London, which was related to my current job, but gave me a great excuse to meet up with some friends down there who I haven't seen for ages and had a very good night with.

And, inspired by RT's effort to look at cold, dark days in a more positive way, I have even been thinking of good things that winter brings. OK this may be a short list. So far I have:

• I can hide all my flabby bits under big baggy jumpers


• Cold weather is a great excuse to make - and eat - soup every night


• It feels great getting into bed early, snuggling under the duvet and reading


• I do get in touch with people around Xmas time who I don't see or hear from most of the rest of the year


• Cold, dark nights make me less enthusiastic about going on nights out, so saving money


• You know its only a few months til spring.
  

that last one isnt quite in the 'trying to love winter' spirit, but I tried.

And back to reality..

So. You get back from a great holiday. Winter is well and truly here, cold and wet. And did I mention cold. You take the dog out in the morning in the dark, you take him for a walk when you get in from work – yup, in the dark. Things you enjoy like walking and horse riding are severely limited due to lack of daylight. And the cold.

You go back to work to find that it is in fact as bad as when you left it – maybe worse as you have a pile of stuff to catch up on, as well as trying to manage to do the equivalent of two jobs. You realise that you didn’t just take work home with you and spend several nights in the week before the holiday working at home because you had to clear lots before you went away – but in fact that will have to become the norm if you are to keep on top of your everything. A discussion with your boss results in the unhelpful surmise that that’s the way it is because we’re short staffed and we have got a lot on (hmm, really). Your suggestion of actually reducing the amount of work does not go down well.

Can it get worse? Well, yes. You look at your wage slip and realise it’s substantially down on last months. You think it must be an error as you have been in the same job with the same salary for 2 years. You ring your finance department – who blame the Inland Revenue as they have changed your tax code. You ring the Inland Revenue – who blame your finance department for not giving them information sooner (maybe about 2 years ago then??) – but it doesn’t matter anyway because they have indeed changed your tax code which means you are now going to get the same gross wage but substantially less going into your grubby mitts – or bank account– because it’s been decided you have to pay more tax, and there is no point in arguing with the Inland Revenue because it is like arguing with a brick wall.

What do you do?

The Good Times

The holiday was everything and more I had hoped, mainly because the island was such an amazing, spectacular place. Phrases like breath taking views and picture postcard scenery sound cheesy and over used – but fit the bill perfectly.

In one day you could drive through clouds at the top of a mountain, come down through tree lined hills, stop off to look at some historical ruins, sun yourself on a beautiful beach with clean white sand and jewel coloured sea, and eat out in a taverna in one of the little villages, with fresh fish caught that day on the menu.

I loved the lack of shops, noise, traffic – the place we stayed is supposedly the most tourist-y village on the island. It has a choice of about six or seven tavernas and a couple of bars – the café type bars where local chaps would gather – two small supermarkets and a couple of touristy shops with the ubiquitous fridge magnets and take home tat.

I loved the lack of bustle, hassle and rushing – the pace is relaxed, chilled, slow. It took me two hours to hire a car during which the car rental owner and me had great debates about state of Greece, the UK and the universe, two cups of coffee, and several cigarettes (him not me).

I loved the lack of roads, signs, and imposed rules. There is one main road around the island, every other route is dirt track. Some parts of the main road are tarmac lots are not. There are very few signs, the road is a bit hair raising, most corners are scary and occasionally some of the worst have a warning sign. But nothing more. There is nothing to force motor bike riders to wear crash helmets – so they don’t. There is no ‘no parking’ you abandon your vehicle wherever you feel like it (which suits my parking skills just fine)

I even loved driving along the roads and tracks once I realised that driving in the middle of the road is the norm, getting tooted at isn’t a bad sign, and how to avoid goats on the road. You would also swerve to avoid people, usually old people, walking on the road seemingly in the middle of nowhere and heading for the other end of nowhere, or at least miles from any identifiable houses or village.

I loved the friendliness, hospitality and community sense of the place – maybe we experienced it more as there were few tourists this time of year so had lots of time to talk to local people. In restaurants and bars if they didn’t have the right change we were told just to drop the money in the next day. The owner of the hotel where we stayed wanted an early night one night and just left me and a couple of others who’d got into a deep conversation to it in the bar, asking us to turn off the lights when we’d had enough. I asked a lady who ran a local gift shop for 10 years whether she closed for the winter. “I don’t open my shop,” she said, “But because I sell gifts and presents, not just for tourists, everyone here knows me and if they want to come and buy anything they just knock on my door or ring me, and I open up so they can get what they need.”

Most of all I loved the space, the uncluttered-ness, the different priorities people had to those we have here. They have no old people’s homes – they have close family and have different generations living together. People have a house which is seen as a home and just needs to be big enough to live in, rather than an investment, money maker, or for their pension. Just about everyone seemed to have some element of self sufficiency, growing vegetables and fruits, usually with a goat or chickens nearby.

There were no chainstores, business parks, or queues for anything. Shops shut after lunch and opened again for a few hours in the evening – if they felt like it. There were bus stops, but buses were of the infrequently spotted variety.

I know, I know I know – it is a completely different place and environment and comparing there and here is like comparing apples and pears. And I am sure I’m seeing it through a holiday makers rose tinted spectacles – or sunglasses. But it sure has made me unsettled, restless, and questioning everything from what I'm doing to whether I'm living in the wrong place!!

Holiday snaps

Had a wonderful, relaxing, chilled out holiday but the shock of returning after more than two weeks to the cold and dark and getting back to putting in ridiculous hours at work and dashing about with everything else, means for now the pictures will have to speak for themselves!