ateabutnoe.com

It has been quiet on the blog front recently hasn’t it? There’s a pile of very good excuses reasons for that: principally that I haven’t done much very interesting. And what does the modern man with his finger on the legumes do when he hasn’t done much very interesting? He writes about it on Twitter: http://twitter.com/ateabutnoe. I’ve also added a twitter widget to this page so you can see when I’m having a cup of tea.

I hope there’s no bad luck involved in getting your Christmas blogs up after the 6th of January but I say better late than never.

I can safely say I got exactly what I wanted for Christmas this year because on Christmas morning my beautiful girlfriend arrived at Heathrow terminal 3. We had an emotional reunion like something out of a Richard Curtis movie at the arrivals gate and then a hectic 5 days began. Poor Sara was carted around the country meeting friends and family without ever getting a chance to catch her breath. Well actually we did have a couple of hours at home on Christmas Day but that was full of champagne, smoked salmon and exchanging gifts. Before the jet lag could finish her off we headed over to see my Johnston cousins and catch the tail end of their Christmas dinner. We were just in time for Christmas pudding and the dessert wine so it was very well timed indeed.

On Day 2 we headed out to Cambridgeshire. Not only did I get to introduce Sara to the delights of the Trump and Gold families but also the unmatched joy of a drive through the English countryside listening to Test Match Special. It was a lovely crisp fenland day full of bright sun, good food and excellent company.

When the sun departed Andrew produced Chinese lanterns which we lit and watched rise and disappear into the night: a beautiful end to the day.

The next day was closer to home. We didn’t need to make it any further than Kew Gardens to meet Alex and Jonny, Jess and Tom. It was another cool and crisp day and we did the tree-top walkway which I hadn’t done before. I was glad that Sara got to meet the Cottons and glad that Jess wasn’t sick like the last time we all went to Kew (I think there was some dodgy hot chocolate going around that day).

It was then off to the East End to see Peter, Eleanor, Ellie and Richard. We had a lovely meal and excellent chat although we didn’t get too far with the boardgame I had brought. War on Terror - the game - seems like a fun idea but the rules are by no means clear and maybe none of us were in the best state to make much sense of it by the end. Or maybe that’s the point after all? Anyway it’s the thought that counts.

After that we had a day to ourselves and a chance for a romantic stroll around London: St Paul’s, Tate Modern and the South Bank. It was lovely and thankfully the weather stayed dry if still pretty chilly. But a winter trip to Britain wouldn’t be complete without a cold grey day with some rain and the next day certainly delivered that for our trip to Oxford. If the sightseeing was cold at least we had a very warm welcome with my Aunt Anne and her family. On the way home we also managed to fit in a cup of tea and some delicious cake with my cousin Emily and her family so Sara’s visit proved a wonderful chance to catch up with my family.

And then she was gone. The flying visit was over and the countdown began to my next trip to Canada. Since it’s taken me so long to put finger to keypad to the wait now is only 2 more weeks! Joy!!

My first post after getting back to dear old Blighty spoke of my challenges acclimatising. That didn’t last long; after a week or two I was really feeling back in the swing of the things and starting to appreciate what it was I had come home for. It was great to be back with friends and family, great to be back in pubs over 50 years old, great to be back in the culture that I knew so well. I loved getting out into the countryside too. Green fields and rolling hills like the view from my friend Letty’s kitchen or the wide-open spaces of the Fens at Andy and Jo’s new place in Cambridgeshire give me the most profound sense of comfort and belonging. Before you start to  think I’m turning into John Major I was also getting settled into the energy and diversity of London and I enjoyed trips to Manchester and Liverpool as well.

In the very same week that I started to see what it was I had come home for I also had a profound realisation: that none of that mattered as much as being with Sara. I realised that what I really wanted was to be back in Calgary with her! I love her and I can’t imagine being with anyone else. We emailed, we talked it over and we decided to get back together again. We made it official too - by updating our Facebook relationship status! The plan is that I will move back to Calgary next year, probably in the latter half of 2010. I need to sell my flat here and I need to spend some time doing beautiful British things with beautiful British people before I go. And I want to repay some of the support that ThoughtWorks my excellent employers have given me with all these plans.

Ever since that decision was made I have felt a weight off my shoulders. I feel liberated and happy and a strange mix of calm and excitement. It just feels right and it has felt more right every day that has gone past. I’m so lucky to have met someone strong enough to take me back into her life after I left to find out what I really wanted to do. We both agree that I had to do it but it was tough on her and for that I am truly sorry.

Actually right now the calm is giving way to excitement. As I write this Sara is at Calgary Airport and Air Canada permitting she’ll be on her way to London soon! We’ve only got 5 days together but I haven’t been so excited about Christmas for years and years. Just imagine: everything I want for Christmas is flying in over the North Pole to arrive on Christmas Morning. How’s that for a Festivus miracle?

Merry Christmas everybody!

In my last post I mentioned working up in Newton-le-Willows. Obviously it’s world famous as the home of Rick Astley but it has another claim to fame: as the site of the world’s first ever railway fatality on the world’s first ever railway.

Yes folks, opening day of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway 15 September 1830. The popular MP for Liverpool, William Huskisson, is part of the official opening party and takes the opportunity when the train stops near Newton to get off and talk to the PM the Duke of Wellington. At which point he promptly gets hit by Stevenson’s Rocket which is whizzing along the other line (top speed 29mph). What a doofus! However the monument to him at Newton station is rather more prolix (to put it lightly). Check it out..

In the month and a bit since I got back from Canada I’ve worked for three different clients in three different cities, which was about what I managed in my two and a half years in Canada. It’s certainly been a return to the consulting lifestyle - lots of hotels and not many nights at home. That’s not so bad though, it meant a chance to catch up with friends around the country and to see some more of this beautiful island kingdom of ours. I particularly enjoyed the two weeks I spent in Manchester although it didn’t get off to a very auspicious start (and it did rain ALL the time!).

I was in Manchester for some client training. The training itself was in Newton-le-Willows which I know you know as the home of Rick Astley but I was staying with the other ThoughtWorkers near Manchester Picadilly station. I got up to Manchester at about 10pm on Monday night but as the train came to a halt and I went to leave, my suitcase was nowhere to be found. There was another suitcase, of a completely different size and colour, but mine had gone! I have to say the chap from Virgin Trains could not have been more concerned or more helpful even last thing at night when he was done for the day. It looked like my bag had been taken by mistake so he took my details and even rang the previous station to see if anyone had realised having got off that they had taken the wrong bag.

All this concern didn’t help my short term problem which was that I was due in Newton-le-Willows at 8.30am the next day looking smart to begin the training course. I had the jeans and minging t-shirt I had arrived in, my laptop, some jaffa cakes and that was about it. I went round to the hotel to check in (need shelter!) and then asked them if there was an all night ASDA anywhere around. Indeed there was and a taxi was summoned to take me out there. It was just short of midnight when we pulled up outside the most gigantic supermarket I had ever seen, next to the Manchester City stadium. The lights were on and the George at ASDA sign gave me hope that I might be OK.

Oh George! You saved my life.  2 pairs of trousers, 3 shirts, socks, pants and a pair of brown leather brogues all for under £100. Global capitalism came to my rescue that night and for that I thank it. I thought the stuff I’d bought under emergency conditions was actually nicer than the stuff I had lost - the shoes in particular are much more comfortable than my old work shoes. But I still hoped to get my old stuff back - I had my iPhone charger in that bag and a few bits and pieces I would rather not replace. As luck would have it on Wednesday night I was through in Liverpool visiting Alice and having just bought a new suitcase to transport all my new clothes home I received an apologetic call from the person who had taken by suitcase. Actually I think it was his people rather than the man himself but anyway his people were very sorry and said they were coming up to Manchester on Thursday and would drop off the case at lost property. This worked perfectly for me as I was returning to London that night. I thanked him very much and felt vindicated in my faith in my fellow man.

He proved as good as his word and when I was done for the day in Newton-le-Willows I arrived back at Manchester Picadilly station and found my case waiting for me. I got the train back home very relieved to be reunited with all my stuff, a feeling that was only tempered slightly when I got home to find everything was as it had been minus one iPhone charger. People - eh!

The fact that it’s taken me three weeks to get around to writing about arriving home says something about what a hectic and turbulent time it’s been. I meant to share my impressions after my first week, and then I was going to do it after week two, and then I was going to do it last Friday but each time when it got round to it I was just too exhausted (physically and emotionally) to  acutally put my thoughts into words. Which should give you a sense of how its been.

I’m feeling better now though. I’m heading north on the train to Manchester for another week of training courses in Newton-le-Willows (more of that in another post now I’ve got my blogging mojo back). Week on week I’m feeling more settled in if not truly at home yet. I think I need to spend more time actually at home to do that, I’ve been away during the week with work and over the last weekend seeing all my god-children who I hadn’t caught up with yet.

The first week back however was not good. I got home to find my flat seemed very small and dingey compared to what I had been used to for the last few years. And although I called it home it didn’t feel like home right away. My lovely tenant had moved out but she warned me that she hadn’t been able to move all her stuff and would it be OK to keep it at mine for a few days. I had no problem with that in theory, and I laughed when I saw the pile of boxes from floor to ceiling in the hall but in fact that was just another little thing to keep me from feeling settled. As good as her word she shortly after removed everything and that made a huge difference. Opening the door and seeing the hall as I remembered it definitely helped me feel more at home. So did removing the broken futon, getting a new one, getting a new telly and upgrading my wireless broadband. It’s definitely coming together on the home front, now I just need to spend some time there.

Getting used to London again was surprisingly hard too. Walking around in Shepherds Bush (marvelling at the Waitrose - oh joy!) I was struck by how hectic it was compared to Calgary. Everyone walked so fast! It’s funny because I remember walking much faster than all my colleagues when I arrived in Canada. Here it didn’t seem so funny, it felt almost aggressive, especially with the crowds and the rain. Hectic certainly, and maybe I was just tired and jet lagged because I don’t notice the same vibe so much now. Maybe I’m inured to it already!

A number of times during that first week I did think “What the hell have I done?”. I felt the absence of what and who I had left behind in Calgary very keenly without feeling the presence of what I had come back for. If I had thought about it more I could have expected that reaction: I had traded a lot of tangible good things but a lot of intangible notions that I felt were important to me. One of the tricky things with intangible things is, you know, their lack of tangibility. On top of all of that there was some very tangible work stress when I found out I was going to be running a training course at the start of my first week back at work rather than the end. That rather killed off the holiday part of my my first week home as I flew into a massive panic of preparation. Once I’d got through the first part of the course then I was able to relax.

It hasn’t all been bad! Catching up with friends has been great, especially when that’s coincided with some good London stuff to do. On the Tuesday of my first week I went to see the Gabrielli Consort in concert at Christ Church, Spitalfields with Peter and Eleanor. That was wonderful as was the Anish Kapoor show at the RA that I saw on Wednesday with Madeleine. At the weekend I went up to Oxford to see my family there. It was great to see my aunt Anne and Uncle Christopher plus my cousin Trio. I also reclaimed a treasured posession that I had left with them for safe keeping: my dad’s red box. It’s one of those chancellor-on-budget-day things; red leather with gold writing “High Commissioner for Southern Rhodesia”. Yes it’s very cool! Inside I keep a lot of personal mementos of mum and dad and older family stuff. One thing I came across, as I opened it in my Aunt’s living room, was a letter that my mum had copied out in her beautiful handwriting. It was originally written by Sydney Smith to Lady Morpeth in 1820 (according to mum’s note at the top.) Not knowing what it was about I started to read. Turns out it was advice for what to do when you are down in the dumps. Here it is:

Dear Lady Georgiana,

Nobody has suffered more from low spirits than I have, so I feel for you.

1. Live as well as you dare

2. Go into the shower-bath with a small quantity of water at a temperature low enough to give you a slight sensation of cold.

3. Amusing books

4. Short views of human life - not further than dinner or tea

5. Be as busy as you can

6. See as much as you can of those friends who respect and like you

7. And of those acquaintances that amuse you

8. Make no secret of low spirits to your friends, but talk of them freely  -they are always worse for dignified concealment

9. Attend to the effects that tea or coffee produce upon you.

10. Compare your lot with that of other people.

11. Don’t expect too much from human life - a sorry business at the best.

12. Avoid poetry, dramatic representations (except comedy), music, serious novels, melancholy, sentimental people, and everything likely to excite feeling or emotion, not ending in active benevolence

13. Do good, and endeavour to please everyone of every degree.

14. Be as much as you can in the open air without fatigue

15. Make the room where you commonly sit gay and pleasant

16. Struggle by little and little against idleness

17. Don’t be too severe on yourself or under-rate yourself but do yourself justice

18. Keep good blazing fires

19. Be firm and constant in the exercise of rational religion

20. Believe me, dear Lady Georgiana

Very truly yours,

Sydney Smith.

I thought it was amazing - everything that had cheered me up at all during the week was on that list (plus some others I hadn’t considered). We were even standing in front of a blazing fire when I read the letter! In a way it seemed like my mum comforting me when I was feeling down and that in itself was a real tonic.

So with that I carry on. I’m still wrestling with the thought of have I done the right thing but I know that in the end I’ll know and that is ultimately the right thing that I needed to do.

I’ve been meaning to write an epic post reflecting on my time in Calgary and looking to the future but to be honest I’m knackered! Proper cream crackered: physically and emotionally. But my bags are finally packed and I’ve just got some tidying up to do, drop off a few things at the office and I’m good to go. I’m already checked-in, take-off is at 9.15pm tomorrow.

This last week has been a tough one, with lots of good byes. There’s been fun as well - I had a great leaving party last weekend. It was my ideal party to be honest: lots of people came but everyone had cleared out by 11.15 and I was tucked up in bed by midnight! A proper Bangalore night out I used to call that.

Survivors photo: It was nearly 11pm!

Up for the cup with Michelle and Amit

I also had some nice going-away events at work. My car pool buddies met me for breakfast on my last day at the wonderful Galaxie Dinner and then there were drinks that evening after work with clients and ThoughtWorkers. Thursday was the day the stuff I am shipping home was due to be picked up and that was not the most riveting experience. I’d been given a window of anytime between 8am and 8pm for collection. In the end they came at 6.15pm. All I would say to anyone using sevenseasdirect.com is to confirm if the country you are in uses their own people or a partner to collect. If it’s the latter you might be screwed like I was!

One going-away event that wasn’t such a success was a final trip to Punk Rock Bingo at Broken City. I’ve loved PRB ever since I first stumbled upon it about half way through my time here. However when we arrived on Tuesday there was none of the usual crew to be seen. Eventually somebody started setting up but it looked a new caller and generally a new set-up. I was hoping the old magic would remain but it quickly became apparent that it didn’t. That was when they started handing out vouchers for half an hour’s free internet porn. I was seriously unimpressed and we left shortly after. I emailed Broken City to say that I was pretty disappointed in what went on. In the email I wrote “I know everything these days is ironic and post-modern and nothing means anything anymore..” but I said that some things do matter. I did get apologies from the owner (who seemed surprised that any offence had been taken) and the manager of the bar but they both said it had been a joke. Which kind of proves the point I was making in my email. Ho Hum. I was really disappointed that such a brilliant night had fallen so low but then I found (through the magic of Twitter) that the original Punk Rock Bingo has moved to the Ship and Anchor on 17th. The awesome Steve B is your host again and I recommend it to anyone in Calgary looking for Tuesday night fun.

Overall I’ve had an absolutely brilliant time here over the last 2 and half years, even my run-in with Calgary’s white supremacist community was a highlight! I’ve worked and played with some fantastic people. I’ve made some great new friends and renewed old friendships too, all over the continent. I feel incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to come out and work here, and to be able to come home too and stick with my ever patient employer ThoughtWorks. People have asked me what I’m going to miss, apart from the hiking and the skiing (and I won’t be missing that for long: I expect to be back here for ThoughtBoarder in February!). Well I’m actually going to miss the weather for one. Locals look at me as if I’m mad but even if it’s -20 the chances are the sun will be out. Calgary is Canada’s sunniest city and I fear I’ve come to take bluebird days for granted. Most of all I’m going to miss Canadians. They aren’t just friendly, they are positive and optimistic - even the cynical ones! Being that way inclined myself (IMHO) I can’t help but love it here.

Now one reason I’m so lucky is that I love Merrie Olde England too! I am very excited about coming home. Next week is going to be fun: I’m going to see the Gabrielli Consort at Christ Church, Spitallfields, the Anish Kapoor show at the RA, I’ve got dinner with friends and a trip to see my aunt and uncle singing in a concert in Oxford. And if that doesn’t make me feel good about coming back I’m going to spend myself happy by getting an iPhone. You can’t get more zeitgeisty than a Keynesian solution like that. I’m definitely ready to trade the great outdoors for the big city and see how that suits me. And my excellent godchildren I’m sure are in need of spiritual guidance. There’s much to do and plenty to see - bring it on!

It’s been a hectic month. Here is a potted history:

October began, as it always does, on the 1st. I, unusually, was in Edinburgh celebrating with my best friends the 20 year anniversary of starting at Edinburgh University. As well as the reunion party..

I saw my friend Hermione and her lovely son Zac..

and got to stay a night with Smarty in his swinging Edinburgh pad. It was awesome if exhausting and my sleep patterns were destroyed for a week. But my love for Edinburgh was re-affirmed and I left with a feeling that I really want to live there again before too long. [more pics]

A week later I was in San Francisco with Sara visiting my friends Jez and Rani. Well that was the pre-text, what I really wanted to do was to meet their daughter Amu. That did not disapoint. Dial Q for cutey!

We also went for an excursion out to Big Sur which was marvellous: the winding road along the Californian coast and then hills and forest of Big Sur itself. We stopped in on the purple sands of Pfeiffer Beach before lunching at the wonderful Nepenthe restaurant. I saw my second ever hummingbird as we sat on the terrace! That’s living all right. [more pics]

Then back to Cowtown at last. And now I have less than 2 weeks in Canada. With the clock ticking all the little things that make living in Canada so great stand out. I was really struck by just how happy the girl at the dry cleaners was when I popped in last week. I couldn’t help but feel that nobody back home would ever be so stoked to receive my dirty shirts or so keen for me to have a great weekend having done so. I’m ready for the British weather but I wonder if I’m truly ready for the grumbling!

This last weekend was also my last chance for a trip to the mountains. We loaded up the ThoughtMobile with Anne, Sharan and his wife Aksheta and ran to the hills. The weather was far from perfect but the views were still glorious and even better was the smell. Getting out of the car at Bow Summit to see the view of Peyto Lake I was hit by the wonderful fresh smell of sap and pine that I will always associate with the Rockies.

Right now I’m planning my leaving party and saying my goodbyes. Packing will start at the  weekend and then I’m home on the 1st.

This last weekend Sara and I went for a bit of a jaunt to New York City. September 11th may not be everyone’s idea of the best time to be in New York but it was the date that worked for us and we had a great weekend.

The only other time I had been to New York before was September 2001 - I left on something like the 7th - so I had seen the Twin Towers standing. I was really aware of their absence from the Manhattan skyline this time around, you couldn’t help but feeling that something was missing. Coming in from Newark airport on the evening of the 10th under wet low clouds I could see the the beams of light they have shining up from Ground Zero. Rather than shooting off into the nothingness above they illuminated the clouds with two bold bright circles. I thought it was a beautiful but poignant reminder.

I didn’t really notice any other atmosphere or sombre vibe. Life seemed to be carrying resolutely on. On September 11th itself that resolution was tested by the torrential rain all day. Sara spotted that by the evening the dustbins around town were overflowing with discarded umbrellas. Luckily we spent most of the day in the MoMA which as well as sackful of great paintings has a fully functioning roof so we managed to stay mostly dry. At the gallery I learned there is only so much Picasso I can take, I like a bit of Brancusi, I’ve always got room for some Barnett Newman, and whatever country you are in Carl Andre’s piles of bricks really are a pile of shite (I’ll give you Equivalent…..). I was also excited to see the famous Jasper Johns pictures in the flesh, so to speak.

My abiding memory of the weekend was that I have never eaten so well! I also had some interesting drinks too. It may come as a shock to some of you who have known me for a while but I am basically mad for the sauce these days! I’m like a chocoholic - but for booze. Well maybe not quite that bad but anyway - I had a couple of cocktails and I didn’t die. Come on - we’re in Manhattan and let’s face it: you’re not going to get a decent cup of tea anywhere.

Anyway the eating was tops. Sara had been given some recommendations, I’d got a tip from my friend Anne and we scoured the Lonely Planet and the estimable London Review of Breakfasts (which is tiny bit more international than it sounds) for other spots. Everywhere came up trumps from the Jewish Deli near our hotel to the amazing sushi and wagyu beef at Megu in Tribeca. We also got an unexpected treat arranged via some local knowledge. An American friend from Edinburgh days, Sarah Rose, now lives in New York and arranged to meet us for what she assured me was “the best food in New York”. This turns out to be a place on 2 Ave at E 13th St called Momofuku. If you are in those parts then go- it was amazing. And amazingly hard to describe too: we had beautiful cured Tuna and some other asian influenced dishes plus delicious sliced ham from Kentucky with an extraordinary coffee mayonnaise sauce. I can’t properly describe the Crack Pie they serve in the bakery next door except to say it’s like crack - try a bit and want some more!

All in all we packed a lot into 2 and half days. And the final half day was wonderfully sunny so we could do more outdoor stuff. I was really pleased to visit the new park that has just opened in the Meatpacking District called the High Line. A disused elevated railway line has been saved from demolition and turned into a really cool open space, high above the street below.

More photos here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ateabutnoe/sets/72157622373909826/

In the light of the wonderful adventures I’ve been writing about here recently what I am about to say may make no sense to some people but it’s time to announce I am moving back to Britain in the first week of November.

I can safely say it’s been the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I love the life out here; I’ve made some great friends and I’m spending time with a very remarkable lady. Leaving all of that behind is tough. All I can say is that I’ve come to a realisation that I want to be back home. I could go on for hours trying to explain it in more detail but I can’t say it any better than that: home is home and there’s something I miss about my native place. I plan to keep coming back to Canada as much as I can but I feel like I want to live in the UK.

Trying to get my head around what I want to do has been emotionally exhausting and made me much more introspective than I would normally want to be. I also like to beat myself up over the fact that my dilemma is not exactly a hard-luck story: I’m trying to choose between two incredibly positive options. Anyway I feel like I’ve been so pre-occupied with my own thoughts that I’ve ignored other people at times when they could have done with not being ignored [Aunt Anne this means you most of all!]. Hopefully that will pass now that I am aware of it.

Right now I’m genuinely sad at the thought of leaving and genuinely excited at the thought of coming home. That’s a pretty weird feeling.