Beside the Seaside

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In Which I Hit The Road Again, At Last

July 28, 2007 by Mike

Bournemouth

Route: Norwich - Bournemouth

Yes, Bournemouth. A bit of (my) beaten track, I'll admit. To be honest, I didn't expect to get here 'til I was in my 70s. That's the average age of the people here. But then, after all this time, I think I'm allowed to have been blown slightly off-course.

In brief. Almost exactly a year ago today I left Norwich for, ultimately, Murmansk and the start of this trip. 225 days ago I returned to Norwich in time for Christmas, and to avoid a spell of freezing fog. Less than a month later (after the fog had gone but before I had a chance to do likewise) Ma had a stroke. Two weeks later Pa was in hospital after a fall. And so the last six months have been spent with them.

They're both home now, feeling more strong and more comfortable more of the time. The home they've lived in for 51 years has been adapted. Their lives have been adapted, as have those of me, my sister and brother.

And, although it felt once or twice like I'd been back there for 51 years as well, it has been an incredibly rewarding time. What 41-year-old gets the chance to spend such time with his or her parents? Whatever the circumstances? I had no job, no mortgage, no wife, no kids, no commitments to anything but them. I've had more socially-fulfilling periods of my life but I still managed to cram in a bit of lovey-dovey stuff (and heartache.) I saw Shrek 3 on the opening weekend, the Blue Man Group in that London and T-Model Ford ("T-Model thinks he's 75 but isn't quite sure".. my kind of music). For months I didn't dare get on the bike because I wouldn't want to stop and get off again.

I've become closer to my parents than I could ever have imagined - and they to me.

And we realise that this closeness, this very special relationship, is founded in blood but thrives on friendship. That isn't always part of the deal when it comes to families. It's something to cherish.

So that's my blo- I mean diary entry for the last six months. I also grew a beard a couple of times, tried earrings again (not at the same time - didn't want to be mistaken for a pirate. Or David Essex) but unlike Tony Blair, I saw the error of my ways. I bought lots of shoes but in my world that's hardly news.

And I got tickets to see Sly And The Family Stone at the Bournemouth Opera House. Yes! I know! Incredible! (I realise it's not very incredible if you haven't heard of Sly And The Family Stone. Or Bournemouth. Just bear with me on this one and please go and listen to some Sly: now, now, now!)

DSC04035.JPG Sly Stone made this man DANCE!

Anyhoo, it turned out the gig was on the anniversary of the day I left last year. Ma and Pa were better than ever.. my sister was off work for a couple of weeks.. my brother and his family were in the country.. it suddenly started to look like this could be, should be, a time to get back on the road.

And...? Well, Sly was brilliant. I drank too much and danced even more. Luckily, my good friend Colin was there to confirm all the above, as my memories of the night are a little hazy. Blame the house red.

And I'm BesideTheSeaside once again.

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