Sunday, 25th October, 2026
As the Blog moves towards the end of its 18th year, we wake up early to a gorgeously warm and sunny morning. Able to go out for a walk at last. Down to the beach. Newspapers over Breakfast and Andy Burnham goes from strength to strength.
Bravery is one of his abiding qualities and, although we’ve know his position for years, he has now been brave enough to open up the idea of going back to Freedom of Movement. It is one of the things that will win him the next General Election.
Down at the beach, the local Bonfire was piled high – maybe 30 ft – with all sorts of wood and the annual Funfare was setting up along the promenade in time for Bonfire Night festivities.
Walking on the beach was blustery and the waves were crashing on the pebbles with a roar as it broke and a scrape as it retreated. For two nights now the sky has been strongly moonlit and tonight is the full moon but I think the winds are having the greatest influence on the crashing tide this morning.
With just a week to go before I leave for Tenerife, I am doing the final preparations. Now the clocks are back, I check the sunrise/sunset times so I can set the automatic lighting. I check the cameras, heating controls so I can maintain the fabric of the house. I contact the property owners so I can finalise our meeting and, although I’ve been to Costa Adeje area many times, I check other people’s ideas for walking.
The Blogs/Guides are not great but it is always possible to learn from others. I am not really going there as a tourist. As I always bore readers with, I merely move my life to another place temporarily and in this case for the weather. I shall be doing all the same things – reading, writing, exercising, walking but without having to worry about the cold. More than anything else, I’m looking forward to a large, quiet heated pool to swim in twice a day. I won’t be seen in the Irish Pubs or cheap eateries down in the town. I won’t be seen at the karaoke or the big screen football over a few lagers but this Blog site above will help me expand my horizons walking.
Monday, 26th October, 2026
We have a battery powered, radio-controlled kitchen clock that automatically sets its time by listening to a radio signal broadcast from a national atomic clock standard. It used to be considered cutting edge at one time. Now, not so. It is one of the three remaining clocks in our house which don’t reset themselves automatically because the rest are internet-based. Almost every other clock, and there are so many of them around the house, is updated over night.
This clock took 36 hours before the update signal was came in. It receives the MSF time signal transmitted from Anthorn Radio Station in Cumbria, near the Solway Firth on the England-Scotland border roughly 500 km away. Amazing really.
I don’t think my body clock has quite adjusted yet. The changing light patterns have made my sleep deeper and more restful. The no-alcohol move has probably contributed towards that too. Anyway, I didn’t get up until 7.00 am (former 8.00 am) this morning and it didn’t feel strange at all. It is bins day. I am responsible for bins which is a pity because it is horrible outside. Cool, dark, grey and breezy.
Because of the weather, Littlehampton Bonfire Society (yes there really is one) postponed the Fireworks Night celebrations from what was a very wet Saturday to last night because the weather was so wonderful.
Had to go out for some shopping this morning and stopped off at the beach where the bonfire was still burning strongly in spite of driving rain. The sea was raging on the beach and breaking on the groynes. It was not a place to stop. I can feel the warmth of the Gym calling. Anyone like to share it?
Tuesday, 27th October, 2026
It is raining in my world. The need to put a light on to get up and shave is depressing me. After the glorious light of Summer, the season is enveloping us in darkness. At least we have light. That thought has been striking me over the past few days. We walk into a dark room, flick a switch and there is light.
It has been making me think about times past before electricity. In Iron Age Britain, for most people, winter meant a period of genuine uncertainty. Darkness was real darkness. After sunset there were only fires or tallow lamps. These gave very limited light, so most activity stopped soon after nightfall. Winter was associated with death and danger. Trees appeared dead, animals disappeared, and crops did not grow. It is not surprising that many ancient religions developed stories about the sun’s return and the rebirth of nature. The shortest day marked the turning point when daylight would finally begin increasing again. Ancient monuments such as Stonehenge had already been aligned with solar events long before 500 BC.
Modern people often think of winter as an inconvenience. For people in 500 BC or 1100 AD, winter and darkness were fundamental realities that could determine whether a family survived until spring. The gradual return of daylight after the winter solstice was not just interesting astronomy. It was a profound sign that life would continue.
In many ways, the excitement people still feel at Christmas lights, cosy fires, and the first signs of spring are echoes of feelings our ancestors experienced much more intensely a thousand or two thousand years ago.
The amazing thing is that although electricity was coming to UK homes in the early part of the last century, for people of my generation, that was only at the start of our parents’ lives. It is almost within touch
And now we have not just light, not just electric light at a switch bringing day to night but we have Artificial Intelligence. I am getting more and more reliant on it for all sorts of sources of information.
An old friend of mine is celebrating her Mother’s 97 Birthday. It is a fantastic achievement and testament to staying power. I wanted to make a card for her and A.I. really helped. They live by the sea in North Yorkshire and I had a photo of them together at a 1940s Festival. I wanted to place them in another scene and I chose the well known and popular Jack Vettriano picture, The Singing Butler. You have to know how to direct A.I. and what you want as an outcome but, in my view, the result is amazing.
Wednesday, 28th October, 2026
Gloriously sunny morning with blue sky but only 10C/50F. The times they are a changing and not for the better. All the more reason to fly to the warmth. Before I do, I have a BT engineer arriving for a third visit in a week. My internet is good but the WI-FI is still flakey and it looks as if the Hub needs replacing.
I’ve only got a few days to sort this out because of the need to access things remotely when we’re abroad. This morning the WI-FI went down momentarily and I’ve insisted on a quick visit to get it resolved. Can’t live like this.
The Office is full of equipment testing the system in multiple ways. I have a Hub Manager screen available and the Log illustrates the problem.
I apologise to regular readers if this is even more boring than usual but it is currently dominating my life and filling my days. I’m just hoping that the visit is done before the Budget is announced. Big day for Labour and Andy Burnham.
Thursday, 29th October, 2026
A grey, wintery looking morning. Yesterday ended without a real resolution to my Broadband problem. I know how to cope with it but ‘coping’ isn’t the acceptable solution. My BT Executive Complaints friend, Louis from Sale in Greater Manchester is still working out the solution. He is lovely and a Man. Utd supporter. I feel as if I am in good hands. However, I have now had three, separate BT/EE engineer visits without success. I am thinking of flying Louis down here to the South Coast to do the work himself but it will have to wait for when I return from holiday.
They say: You are what you eat. I also understand that my body is around 60% water. I think that figure went up recently. For the past 9 weeks, I have been living on 1500 cals per day with no alcohol. It is making a remarkable difference. The majority of my intake is fluid. In fact, it is made up of what you can see here. It is all low calories which is why it has been chosen. It all tastes good and I have ditched the disgusting Shloer which I couldn’t take any more.
Travel preparations continue apace. Pauline’s medical problem seems to be fading into the background. She has seen the consultant’s notes which clearly say that it is not cancer and that the tumours are not worrying and in need of urgent attention. These are positive things. Ironing and packing has largely been done. Because we are staying a month, we are staying in a Gatwick Airport hotel the night before to make life easier. The flight is 4.5 hrs so we need to be rested.
Tenerife doesn’t have the charm and character of Greece but, in the Winter months, it does have the predictable weather. It isn’t cold as Greece can be bitingly so. It has fairly consitent sunshine that Greece can’t promise you in November-December. Yes, you can get some rain in Tenerife but it is marginal and short lived. When we arrive in Adeje, it will be around 27C/81F each day which is perfect for walking, swimming and living outside.
Last week it was the Beautician’s. Today it is the Hairdresser’s. All week it has been this little body prancing down the stairs in one outfit after another asking for my approval on what to pack. It’s very wearing! My packing is 4 pairs of shorts, 8 tee shirts, swimming shorts and my wash bag. The Duplex we are renting has washing, drying and ironing facilities so the minimum will just be recycled for a month. I won’t be taking a suit.
The Budget was low key, as expected. It didn’t do a Liz Truss and didn’t spook the markets. The biggest thing for me was to see that it would cost me about £20.00 per year in extra tax on unearned income from savings and investments. Our house is Council Tax Band E so we don’t get anything to balance that out. My policy of moving money into tax-free shelters like ISAs has paid off. Short of moving to Florida, it is about the best I could do.
Friday, 30th October, 2026
Glorious morning. Blue sky, strong sun and warm temperatures. Up early – 6.00 am – because I have an electrician coming to update the garden lights at 8.00 am. An hour’s work will relieve me of £200.00 which is nice work in the sunshine if you can get it.
Still, he’s done a good, professional job having spent an hour grovelling around the garden cables which is not my idea of fun so it is worth it. We have a network of 8 of these simple spots all linked up to the Hive hub so we can control them from the house or from Tenerife and I can then check the cameras as well.
Everything is now done for a month away. The last thing this morning was printing out addresses for the taxi driver and insurance documents for the Travel File. The electrician is a lovely lad who looks 25 but is actually 40. He has two teenage girls and they have all just come back from Costa Adeje themselves. I just can’t judge age any more except in the very old like me.
This week 16 years ago represented a massive upheaval in our lives. My mother in law’s funeral was held. We spent days sorting out her paperwork and chattels before her retirement flat was re-allocated and we were looking for somewhere to rent having sold our house in the Summer, gone back to Greece and then lived in the Retirement annexe while we were managing her final days.
Sixteen years ago, Pauline was scattering her Mother’s ashes in her final resting place and we were negotiating rental of a temporary resting place in Huddersfield while we found a new home in the South. Much as I like moving house, this whole process was unsettling having come hard on the heels of retirement from work.
It all feels such a horribly long time ago. It is what we build on layer by layer and, as you know, I have to go back and touch those layers over time, reclaiming time, reconnecting times. And so it is just like you said it would be. Life goes easy for me ….
And down at the beach, the old people enjoyed the sunshine and the warmth of 17C/63F in late October. Lovely way to prepare for the Canaries.
Saturday, 30th October, 2026
I’m not sure but I think it is because I am going away for a month that this morning’s thoughts have arisen. I have been thinking about a sense of place. Lots of people have it. Some are born and remain in one place all their lives as was the custom in pre-mass transport times. Some move away but hold a pride of origin even while they are far away. There is something about being far away that makes us more sentimental about home.
But where is home? That’s my problem. Where do I belong? This morning, I found myself reviewing my sense of place. I had YouTube on television and watched a recent film of Repton in Derbyshire where I began. I felt almost no connection. There were the odd moments where I felt a pang of guilt, of failure, of disappointment which I won’t bore you with, Dear Reader.
Next to the market City of Ripon where I spent three years and found myself out of my depth. It certainly holds memories bitter/sweet memories of lost youth and innocence but it was the beginning of a realisation that I was never to be grounded. I had rejected my family village and was always to be condemned to searching, searching for the unattainable.
I was never going to find it in Oldham. It is the depth of deprivation and poverty, of darkness and rejection. I struggle to recall moments of light when I think of the place. I associate some of my most painful times just existing in Oldham. At least they are trying to modernise it now although pessimism is woven into its very fabric.
I moved to Huddersfield and, in comparison with Oldham, it was a pleasant place to live. I enjoyed it although not so much the travelling and the town declined over time which made leaving it so much easier.
Establishing a life on Sifnos was exciting, demanding, stressful, enjoyable for the most part although it had its tensions. I thought leaving would be hard and painful but it has proved liberating and life-affirming. I am finding it impossible to let go of Athens which has increasingly become like an old lover – warm and welcoming but taken rather for granted with the hint of an illict moment.
Surrey proved financially profiatble but emotionally was a mistake. I never liked it. Perhaps my expectations were too high but it was too busy, pushy, cut throat for a simple village boy. I was really pleased to leave and move to Sussex which has proved to be the nearest thing to a place I could call Home throughout my life. Even now, I step outside my door in the darkness and ask myself what the hell I’m doing here and I still worry about people I have left behind across the country and the world but I think I can see myself fading unontrusively into the Sussex sand.
It is ironic but I am returning to my ancestry, to the origins of my Mum’s family, having left that of my Dad’s. Maybe there is something in that. Rivers rise in land and run down to the sea. I have got almost there ….
