and now for something completely different

Panic packing! I am going on holiday. Just for a week to a Spanish island to quaff copious amounts of wine, chew the cud and enjoy some yellow stuff in the sky. And I have borrowed a wheely suitcase. For a person generally moving around with one gigantic rucksack attached to my back, a wheely suitcase is so frightfully decadent and rather hypocritical of me - but I think I'm gonna enjoy it for this week away.

I haven't been "on holiday" for about eight years. I realise some people may have the urge to throw their hands up in the air at this point shouting at the computer screen as I am not often in the UK and forever wandering off somewhere like a naughty child. But I always work. I travel, I work, I travel, I work and actually I'm now trying to make the travelling work by settling in my glorious little spot in South Africa. But I always work. I haven't had a real holiday for well over a year now. I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to it.

one of many reasons...

So I found an article today about the quality of life in the UK and it ain't great. 

I have many reasons for moving half way around the world. It really is almost half way - a direct flight takes just over 11 hours whereas if you try and make it to the Pacific islands such as Fiji or Australia and New Zealand it will take you at least two long-haul flights pretty much totally 24 hours worth of travel. 

Sometimes they say that it's not the destination but the journey that should be the focus of travel. Up to a point I agree, but if you want to get somewhere specific because that is where your life journey begins, then travel in this 21st century of soul-less airports and cramped economy flights is really not quite the "journey" we had in mind.

Anyway, the daily treadmill that can be life here is something that I've moved away from over seven years of bumbling gently round the world. And I just don't get it anymore. I cannot fathom this life on a permanent basis. Even though a lot of the time I enjoy it, it's just not enough. It's startling realisation you tend to get in your thirties that comes under the heading of "is this it?". Maybe it is. And maybe I should have studied philosophy so I can at least attempt an academically challenged response to the meaning of life. But I didn't. And I haven't. I enjoy my amateur philosophy of number 42. And my meaning of life is living with no regrets so that pretty much covers it all - taking actions you want to take for the best possible outcome, treating people with the respect and love they deserve (or don't!) but ultimately living life striving for contentment and happiness without any major **** ups along the way.

there is a light

It's not pretty and it's not sexy. For those living with HIV in South Africa, life can be hard. Improvements have been made since my first visit to the country in 2003 when there were no ARVs available in some rural areas - these drugs are essential for maintaining health and wellbeing and slowing the progression from HIV to AIDS.

Last weekend's papers reported a fantastic 25% DROP of new HIV infection rates in 22 countries in sub-Saharan Africa - the combining factors of strengthening healthcare capacity, education campaigns, condom distribution, community workshops and a seismic shift towards safer sexual behaviour. 

The Millennium Development Goal (MDG) 6 is to halt and reverse the spread of HIV/AIDS by 2015, but on this basis it would be easy to surmise on a very basic level that it will take until 2040 to achieve this in sub-Saharan Africa alone, nevermind the rest of the continent and the alarming rise in infection rates being seen across Eastern Europe and Central Asia. All this however is threatened by a considerable drop in funding for HIV/AIDS projects in Africa - a huge humanitarian health disaster that benefits no one since it stands to reason that a healthy and robust population costs far less than one in the clutches of a hideous infection.

I stay optimistic that these essential programmes that run especially in my spiritual home of South Africa, continue to be funded enabling them to carry on their hugely vital and entirely necessary work. There is no choice. They have to.

the beginning...

I am in a minority. And proud. Not only am I blonde (ish) but I am trying to migrate from the UK to South Africa - I think it's usually the other way round if parts of London are anything to go by.


I have many hoops to jump through in order to complete my visa to a different life. On top of a more or less full time job, part-time long distance volunteering and random housework I seem to have another full time job involving hoops... Medicals, x-rays, bank statements, signatures, evidence, copies, scans, copies, scans, more copies, more scans, it goes on and on and on. All to be in the place I love with the person I love. So much admin for such a fluffy concept.


And yet life still continues despite the swirling thoughts, the doubts, the rationalisations (is that a word??), the justifications, the dream. Political sensitivity at work, despite it not in any way involving "politics", brain power and buckets of research needed for the volunteering and deep, deep organisational skills to apply for the visa.

Today I am tired and also slightly despondent. But this is nothing to do with the visa and more to do with my UK job whereI have gone above and beyond many times over only to be told "I don't like your attitude". Eh? WTF?? So game over where that's concerned. I shall work to rule. As the others do. Who are supposed to be in charge. What pants.


Another bright shiny day tomorrow to enliven in anyway I choose. And I choose to start on my visa application form; the easy bits at least. A step in the right direction. A vote for optimism over eejits. Hurrah.