Category Archive

I’ve noticed a slowing recently of many of the blogs I’ve read for years.

It seems that some of the first wave of bloggers are running out of steam. While Facebook might claim to be the “new thing” I prefer to see it instead as a changing of the guard.

I wrote Space Hardware angry. I wrote Our Man in Hanoi in wonder. And I wrote Our Man in Granada with a vague ambition of making cash from writing.

Now here I am writing Our Man in Newcastle.

In the last few weeks I have been sorting out my life. I have all those things now that I fled from when I moved to Hanoi.

I’ve a flat. A new job about to start. A car again.

Most importantly of all my partner, herself new to Newcastle, has joined me. I’m back in normality.

I believe that normality for me is a holiday in itself. This isn’t it for ever. Just for now. The strain of Nicaragua has made me appreciate this normality. Just as much as tropical heat has made me appreciate the cold. I will enjoy both.

Just as I will enjoy gigs, football matches, the theatre, fish and chip shops, family, movies and work.

I am also aware that normality doesn’t make for great blogging. It’s not entertaining reading and it doesn’t inspire me to write. When I was in Hanoi my blog went quiet when life was bad. There is nothing worse than moaning on a blog. Likewise, now, contentment just reads as smug.

But life is good. This isn’t goodbye just notice that I am no longer angry. I’m settling. I am no longer sharing my wonders or woes. Likewise I’m not searching for links nor hits.

So do check back sporadically. I will update occasionally. Maybe mostly with new pics. Or you can simply check out my Flickr.

Also know that as long as I am quiet then I am content.

Life is good.

Just in case anyone has been following the job saga.  The good news is I am now gainfully employed and expect to start soon.

I don’t know what I was flapping about.

When we decided to leave Nicaragua, the plan was hatched to continue to stay only as long as it took to get a job elsewhere. After all, it was cheap living and we could spend our days perusing the internet for that perfect position.

But then one came up. In my home town and the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Suddenly, with the possibility of working back in the Toon, came thoughts of all those things that I realised I did miss after all.

So the job was dutifully applied for. One of those long long application forms that says: “Do not attach your CV“. In other words: “We think we have thought of every single question it’ll take to find out everything about you. Gosh there’s quite a lot but would you mind awfully answering them all?”

And so I did. And heard nothing for a while.

Then I got an email. I had made the shortlist. I hinted that a Skype interview might be an idea but then, well,I realised it didn’t exactly show enthusiasm so I volunteered to fly home.

Long story short: several thousands miles, several hundred pounds and one interview later. I didn’t get the job.

They were good enough to give me feedback. Seems they think I am too much of a free spirit. I’m a little out of the loop too, apparently.

Which is all a little annoying because pre my recent adventures I had a dozen years of experience and office time.

I’d also just spent three years learning more about the possibilities of PR than all those other years combined.

I’d spent time dealing with CNN, BBC World, the Herald Tribune, Lonely Planet, ABC, the (then) British Deputy Prime Minister, various Australian cabinet members, the Vietnamese Communist Party, the New York Times, and even, on one occasion, the White House.

But they wanted someone who knew the business editor of the local paper.

Deep breath. Calm thoughts.

So I’m home now. No point flying back and spending even more of my diminishing cash.

I must admit I hadn’t really anticipated failure in the job interview. My mind had been racing ahead - a flat, a car, a season ticket for the football. The nine to five again but making the weekends count too.

I always always always, enjoy the most incredible luck. A new job? No problem.

And now here I am - hemorrhaging cash on British prices and endlessly job hunting.

There’s one post I am very interested in that is still waiting to shortlist. There is another one on the horizon that sounds great too. But, for the most part people seem to have gone on their summer holidays. The PR industry, it appears, is largely gone till September.

I’ve spent only two weeks on the dole in my entire working life so this is all starting to get just a little bit scarey. But something will come up soon, right? Right?

* Pic is the little men from the Haymarket area in Newcastle - which have also become my new banner. The Tyne Bridge just seemed too cliche. When I last lived in Newcastle they appeared, having been expensively created. They were universally hated and it seemed they’d soon be gone. But I’m back and they, apparently, never went away. I think people might just be warming to them. I think I am.

I thought this would never happen.

It seemed like I’d be on my adventures for the rest of my days.

And then, all of a sudden, it seemed like the best option.

Our last stop, Nicaragua, unfortunately just didn’t work out. Underemployed in my volunteer post and with a non-existent social life it was time to move again.

Then suddenly I wanted that move to be to Newcastle. Back home babies were being born. I hadn’t met three people in my own family.

I wanted stability. I wanted normality. I wanted to be back with old friends I could ring for a beer. I wanted fish and chips. I wanted cold, and sometimes even wet.

So I am back here for the time being at least.  Ourwoman follows soon.

Oh and I have my Newcastle United season ticket back.

Now I just need a job. More about that soon.