Jim Stewart's Blog

So – I am back in the UK. The journey started with temperatures of 40 degrees (that’s about 105 in old money). How could I stay awake in such high temperatures for such a long journey? Thankfully my first stop was to pick up Gloria. Gloria is a one liter plant spray, which I filled with ice cool water. As I drove I sprayed my face with the lovely cool water – best buy for that trip. By the time I reached northern France all I needed to do was open the window to get a spray.

I am now re-resident in the UK. Slowly things are getting together. My house still looks like a bomb has hit it from the move (the removal guys seemed to demonstrate a lack of common sense – putting bed-sheets in the garage, and moving a dead mouse from Vienna). But I now have an annual ticket for the trains and buses in the whole area – I have a desk (and eventually a computer). So it’s the end of Vienna life.

Five years of my life in Vienna have stopped. People ask me how I feel. Well, it’s hard to say. This is such a dramatic change in my life. A new town and a new house to live in, a new office and a new organisation, a new job. In fact very little stays the same. Life is a series of gains and losses, and I always try to focus on the gains. But in this case I really can’t be sure there are that many gains, so I sort of feel unsure of what I feel. I think if I found a community here to fit into I would feel a lot more positive, but  I think that is some way off.

Anyway – first task at the weekend is to find a washing machine – otherwise I will make the wrong impression on people.

Bottom line – chez Jim – UK style – is open for business. Chez Jim – Vienna style – is only a memory now.

Watching the news about North Korea, you hear what sounds like posturing from both sides. There is an element of wondering whether there really is a wolf at the door – or are people just crying wolf. But there are good people mixed up in all this. Already I know of one guy that has died, nobody knows exactly why, we can’t ask him.

Today I discovered that somebody I know, one of the kindest most gentle people I have had the pleasure to meet, is taking a leading role in dealing with the situation. This guy doesn’t do posturing – he is an honest person that, I believe, is putting himself on the line for us. True, there is nobody shooting at him, but the pressure of the situation must be immense, and I am sure had a big part to play in the death of the first guy.

Hearing he was there has really brought home how serious this is. It really isn’t US rhetoric. It isn’t the politics we have seen elsewhere – he isn’t a supporter of the US political views of the world. I don’t feel like laughing tonight.

So for the next 6 months I will be living in two places. The house near Liverpool is finally mine. I’ve started to move in. Just two bags on the aircraft and a few things bought while I was there on the first trip. First night felt like being in somebody else’s house, but once the locksmith had come round to sort out all of the locks (the front door opens without having to jiggle the key) it now feels more like home. Next trip I intend driving so I can take a few larger items over. But it has certainly made me aware that I need to get to that flea market to get rid of a lot of the stuff that is cluttering up the house.

The difference between the two places is dramatic. In the UK there are open gates that people walk through without invitation. Having lived here for a while I feel a little bit put out by this. Why should somebody think it is right to walk on my property just because they want to make money from me? Just go away unless I invite you! It’s not being grumpy – honest. It’s just something that we have grown up to accept in the UK – that people can enter our property without invitation. I still remember that the majority of the paper I threw out when living in the UK was unwanted stuff that had been stuck through my letterbox. I don’t want to recycle this paper – I don’t want it cycled in the first place.

At least there is a good fish and chip shop nearby….

I suppose it’s either the price or the benefit of working in an international job. I find my picture appearing in magazines that I can’t read. I wonder what the story is about. I certainly remember this one being taken, I like to take visitors to London to this fish and chip shop. Fairly traditional fish and chips – hard to get in the city these days. So now people all over Japan will know where to go to find big portions of fish and chips in London, as recommended by me. Perhaps next time I visit I’ll ask for a discount.