The Angst takes over, but not for ever!

I've been fighting an ever increasing battle over the handling of my recent accidents, by the police. They have shown an acute prejudice against me, I assume because I ride a motorcycle; probably exacerbated by my own stroppy attitude to authority figures. Despite evidence to the contrary, they have acted upon the other driver's version of events, ignoring mine. With no independant witness' they have decided that I was riding too close to the other vehicle and was, therefore, guilty of careless driving. The very fact they have not taken me to court over this shows clearly they have no evidence, hence only being issued with a warning. (Photo: My Kawasaki (Post accident)- The demise of a fine bike.)

WOW! Wasn't I pissed off then? I went to write this entry before Christmas, and the last paragraph was as far as I got. It set the scene for a really good rant, the only problem being, my heart just wasn't in it. However outraged I felt there seemed little point going off on one. It isn't a question of how strongly I felt, more a point of the futility in venting my anger. What purpose would it serve? Would it achieve anything? None, and no, it would make me feel crap, about myself and everyone else! And life is too short to waste it in such a manner. I'd rather sit back, relax, and have no effect on anything than a bad one on something. That should put the cat among the pidgeons, for my more philosophical friends. (Photo: Yours truly (As Walt Disney's Robin Hood)- New year's eve party at home.)

Christmas can be a very difficult time, emotionally, for many. Is it any wonder I was a touch highly strung on the run run up to yuletide? For sure, it wasn't the first christmas since Cai died; but it was the first at home! I'd only just got rid of my crutches, and walking wasn't easy; even now its a wobbly, dual limping sort of hobble. I couldn't go out into crowded places, it would've been too precarious for me; I couldn't stand for long, or fight my way through crowds. I wasn't fit enough to have any independant transport, so I couldn't get anywhere under my own steam. There really was no alternative, I had to make the most of a quiet time! As always though, my friends and family ensured I wasn't unnecessarily lonely. It was nice and peaceful, there was no stress and I saw a good mix of people. (Photo: Mrs Incredible, Aladin, Minnie mouse and Quasimodo - New year's eve party)

And then came new year! I wanted a party, I wanted to infuse my house with happy, fun vibes. It's felt such a sad, lonely place to be for so long now. On my weekend at home, whilst in hospital, I'd really enjoyed a mate's party. Even in my wheel chair I appreciated listening to the music and having a good dance, despite it being more in my own head than through my body. The hope was that I'd be fit enough to fully appreciate it, and I guess I was. Ok, I stumbled a lot, but it didn't stop me dancing. Mission accomplished? Yeah, I had great fun! The day before I wondered if I might find it too much emotionally, but no, it was fine. The people were last gathered together at Cai's wake, a mix of friends through me and Cai. It was a pleasure to see how well the various social groups inter-mingled. I do enjoy breaking down people's barriers. A good time was had by all, and dawn arrived without us even noticing! (Photo: New year's party, life got blurred)

Life has slowed down a lot since then, I'm expecting to go back into hospital soon for the last operation to reconstruct the ligaments in my left knee. All I can do is keep working my legs, to build up their strength, and wait patiently for the surgeon to become available. At least I seem to have accepted there is little I can do! Or have I? Actually, yes, I have! If I hadn't I'd be pushing harder, I wouldn't be sat around bored so much. So I've lost the strength of mind to keep pushing, my energy levels have been pretty damned low. This is exagerated by the seasonal shite going down, and the length of time I've been recovering from injuries. I'm fed up with it all, the wet and cold weather, which gives me more problems, the period of recuperation, my limitations. I'm well and truly fed up, I've had enough struggle. Happiness comes from our own hearts, it is our own responsibility. It can be hard to maintain without some outside influence though! The knack is to remain grateful, simpley for being alive, whatever your circumstances. (Photo: A likely looking crew of party goers - New year's party)

In all honesty though, it's not good enough for me just to be alive, I need more out of life! I need things to inspire me, I relish change and challenge. The constructive way to look at my most recent setback is that I rose to the challenge, I got back on my feet. Both true, and both far from over. There is still the boring donkey work now, tediously applying myself to my regime of exercises. Great, but it isn't enough! I can't yet train fully, I can't get in the gym and go for it, can't, can't can't.... I think that demonstrates it really, I've been concentrating on what I can't do, rather than on what I can do. Or even better; I should be pushing for what I will be able to do, if I maintain a positive attitude. The rewards will surely reflect the effort put in! Each week, as I push myself further, I walk with more confidence, for longer distances. Hey, I even go for daft walks in howling storms. That was so nice, it feels so long since enjoying a battle with the forces of nature, A shame it's stopped snowing already, it didn't settle enough, I wanted to go out and enjoy it! (Photo: Jamie and Penny - Sleeping off the night before, Port Sunlight, Liverpool)

Wibbly wobbly legs....

No strange coincidence, that each time I mean to start writing my book, it initiates a more pressing urgency to update this blog. It represents my need to update my life, to refresh my mind of where I've been, and where I've got to. Emotionally I'm still in stasis, often it feels only yesterday since I lost Cai; other's it's a whole lifetime away. My accident has forced me to live for today, for myself! Don't ask me why, this is one question I have no answer for! It may well be the most frequent question of my life, the one giving the most dissatisfying answer, but it remains the most evasive. There could never be a satisfying answer as to why Cai had to die, but that is not one I ask myself any more. (Photo: Cai with the world at his finger tips)

Reflection is still a head state which inevitably follows feeling upset, yet I'm still incapable of projecting thoughts into the future. For sure, there are uncountable choices for a future life, there ain't no feeelings of joy though! Thinking of only myself feels empty and devoid of meaning, any value of life seems to be putting my time to good use, for the benefit of others. I'd prefer to have a healthy balance, not forgetting the feel good factor of devoting your life to the well being of others. Of course I need to care for myself first, to make that a possibility. How easy it seems to say screw it all, and sink into my own little world. It would take no effort, do I really care about the world at now right now? Of course I do, in theory at least, not emotionally. Who ever said life was meant to be easy? No bugger I know, everyone agrees, it's neither fair nor a bed of roses. So why the hell do we bother? WHY? Always the same quesstion! Oh, to be blinded by belief, to have sufficient faith to commit your life to an improbable God, to be able to kid oneself there is a point to it all! The head games I can put myself through are unbelievable, maybe it would be easier if I had someone else to blame. God moves in mysterious ways? It's a bloody mystery to me! Hard times are there as a test? I feel I've passed enough friggin' tests; besides, since when has he/she/it deigned to pass any of my challenges. Being one who believes in equality, the onus is no longer on me! (Photo: Cai on Fanfare - Rhoscolyn, Anglesey.)

My hardest thing at present is a focus for the anger, something to release it, a legitimate target. The frustration has been building up and would love to be unleashed! What's the point though? Would it make me feel better? No! Finding myself staring out a window, for how long who knows, can be relaxing, though sedating may be more accurate. It's the times I look at the window and want to hurl something through it, when the frustration, becomes a surge of anger. Which is why I know venting it would achieve nothing, at least nothing positive or constructive. What would be the point? It would only give me reason to dislike my actions, and therefore myself. Hey, what a luxury; being able to spend time analysing life's chaotic ways, and beating yourself up about them! I can benefit by obvious progress, like recognising emotions and realising their usefulness, not reacting but responding. There is no escaping your own mind! Which is why there is no running away from your feelings, deal with them when they occur, hopefully denying them the chance to become yet more baggage. Hmmm, seems obvious reading back over this blog how much time I'm spending with my own thoughts.(Photo: Me climbing 'Breaking the Barrier'. Holyhead Mountain - Anglesey)

A while ago I re-read my journal from touring Scandinavia, it made for interesting reading, was I really that mad? Seen from an everyday perspective, it would appear so! But there again, how aften do we allow ourselves to view our innnermost thoughts with such clarity? It needs time and headspace, at least it does for me! And how often, in our everyday lives, do we allow ourselves such time and space? So many people spend most their time and effort remaining blissfully ignorant. Yeah, I could do with a bit of that at times! The time is ripe to revisit my recorded dribblings, to see the depths to which I plunged, the heights I soared to. I know on all my bike tours there has been some incredible highs, even when grieving for Cai. Maybe by re-living some of them I can brighten my outlook somewhat. (Photo: Cai as Night Crawler - Llaneilion, Anglesey)

A lot of time is being spent at home, alone. Acceptance of this is essential, but doesn't come easy. My legs are becoming more usable all the time, stability and stamina are all that restricts mobility. My wrists and forearms suffer more from the cold, stiffness and muscle fatigue reign supreme. The crutches have gone, I'm now determined to walk on my own two feet. If I get tired I rest, if not I do what I need to. I'm back in my own bedroom, confident of negotiating the stairs. The lounge is a lounge again, not a bed-sitting room. So the mundane aspects of life slowly come back to normal, less effort is required to provide the basic necessities. More of my time is available to spin off into Les's world, self analysis can be heavy going, especially when you're so physically limited. There is little you can do about the less joyous aspects of life, and there I've gone full circle. I have to sort myself out before I contribute much to anything else!

Life has been full so far, there is little reason to doubt the future on this score. Many of the best times were shared with Cai! While he will never be by my side to share more adventures, he will be in my heart though. And this must suffice, we were lucky to share so much! Really, luck has nothing to do with it; we made it what it was. Whilst the depth of my loss doesn't lessen, the frequency does, at least, vary. (Photo: Me as Errol Brown, from Hot Chocolate - Tregarth)

A far cry from independance......

Eleven weeks in hospital has been tough going, there's been a fair share of soul searching, but little dwelling on the past. I may have made a bit of a mess of myself, but right from the start I was determined to recover, without too much delay! Wallowing in sorrow wasn't going to get me anywhere, besides, the nursing staff generally have enough on their hands without needing to run around for me all the time. And so developed a stubborn determination to be Mr Independant! Trying, with great effort, but trying constantly. I had to be like that, I had to struggle, manage to do the simplest of things for myself. Each miniscule task, painstakingly overcome, was a minor triumph. Considering I had to be spoon fed initiallly there was a lot of room for improvement, there was no point in looking back, forward was the only way. Though reflecion on my initial level of incapacity has helped remind me of progress. (Photo's: TURKEY - Mountain pass; towards the Kakar mountains. Rock dwellings; Goreme, Cappadocia. [below] 2 beasts of burden; Nemrut Dagli, ).

The first weeks may have been the toughest in many respects, but my determination was fresh. I was told to look towards Easter for anywhere near full recovery, even now that seems ages away; yet I've come so far! Hey, two months ago I was ecstatic because I managed to wipe my own arse (fanny for US friends. For UK folks, no I haven't had a sex change). And now? I'm up and about on crutches, supposedly using my wheelchair when tired; at least I did while still in hospital. I've persisted with crutches only since getting home three days ago! Today (Saturday) was the first day I've woken and not felt a deep ache in my knees. Not to worry though, it allowed me to be more aware of how much my wrists and fore arms ache. Aah, poor me!! (Photo's [One above and two below]: NORWAY - Jutenheim Pass; on a Guzzi V50. Trondeim; Waterfront propoerties. Lufuten Islands; mid-night sun.)

How many times have I had to relate what injuries I sustained, and how I got them? OK, it involved all my limbs, it happened on my tour bike! Too many details to waste my time writing about them here, catch up with me some day, I'll tell you all the gorey details! In hospital patients give their diagnosis as a means of introducing themselves, even vying for pole position, just who should be pitied most? For the last few weeks I've withdrawn out of this tradition, content to lay flat out, exercising my limbs. At first it felt somehow good to exchange medical conditions, it was the norm, but there is only so much of other people's suffering you can take! It takes energy to heal, as the weeks passed I found I had less for other people, I had to serve my own needs first. What little I had would often be spent leaving the ward, wheeling myself about hospital in search of some head space; the chapel proved peaceful, little chance of being disturbed there.

Other patients could make or break my day in hospital; a constant, good humoured, banter proved uplifting, a real pleasure. But even then it could turn sour, all it took was for one person to introduce a disruptive attitude and the mood could plummet. On more than one occasion did I have to bear witness to this. It intensifies the dynamics of normal life, and you can't just avoid it, you're stuck there, embroiled in the turmoil of others. An exceptional patient was one who would take responsibility for themselves, not thrust it on the various staff. Ok, I concede, the staff are there to care for your clinical welfare; but dammit, not your whole life. It is your own fault if injuries worsen through lack of exercise, or attempting the wrong actions. Suffer the consequences, don't blame your carers! (Photo's [two above & one below]: AMERICAS - Approaching the Glacier fields; Canada. Cliff Dwellings; Mesa Verde, Colorado. Giant cactii; Baja Desert, Mexico).

Laying in an agonised heap by the roadside is not an experience that ever needs repeating, it can have a profound effect on one's outlook of life. It was instantly obviousd I wouldn't be walking away from this one for a while. Once the extent of injuries became apparent my mind went into a whirl, how the hell was I gonna tackle this one? With time, effort and patience was the only answer. Long haul or not, it was up to me to recover and get back to a semblance of fitness. It brought the fight back out of me! I'd about given up on bothering about anything, life post accident meant only one thing, recovering. At last I had to think about my own wellbeing, as the central focus in life; not a guilt ridden claim, spoken but never achieved. This has given me the reason to continue, to accept my life is worth living for myself, not dependant on the affection of others to feel complete. No need to shun that affection, it can be the nicest thing in the world. If you live for that alone you have no life of your own, which is fine if that's what you want! I need to take responsibility for my own life, not hand it over to other people. And I mean emotionally and physically!

All the photos shown above have been taken while touring on two wheels. I don't ride to provide a target for other road users, I ride for the thrill and adventure. Generally, if I take care and treat my bike well, it will do the same for me. But not always, there are few gaurantees in life!

Laying back and thinking of South America

Well hi there, long time no see you may think! My apologies, screwed up again, been in hospital for the last six weeks after another bike accident. No point, pleading innocent, despite the faxct it wasn't really my fault, I'm sick of apportioning blame. It doesn't change the facts, I've mashed every limb in my body and healing isn't likely to b e complete until ksome time around Easter of next year. I ain't got internet in hospital, this is a quicky while they've3 let me home for a 48 hour change of scene. Tomorrow it's back to the rigours of institutionalisation, and the tortures of physio. I'll get back soon!

Caste off, and sail away!

Oh, the relief of ridding myself of my plaster caste! At least that's the way it felt, at first, instant relief from the sticky, mankiness that had been irritating me for the last couple of weeks. In harsh reality I'd been able to use my wrist a fair bit before the caste came off. Once off my wrist was as week and feeble as imaginable, I wouldn't even risk trying to get on a bike. I even turned down getting a loan bike! There really was no way I was going to risk it so soon. Realising there was more work ahead did take away the edge of my excitement, but only a bit!

And of course, I wasn't going to be patient for long. A few days of painful exercise, forcing more movement out of my wrist, coincided with the delivery of a Suzuki 1200cc Bandit. A lot of people have commented favourably on it's looks and, assumed, powerful ride. They obviously don't know what my Triumph was like; it looked stylish, sounded great and had that peculiar quality, found in European motorcycles, character! In comparison the Suzuki looks bland, angular, boring. A potential 1200cc powerhouse, promising a superior ride? That all it is, full of promise and delivering little. Maybe I'm being harsh, though after a couple of months with no transport I'd have thought any bike would suffice: only with no other choice!

Mustn't grrrumble, I'm mobile now. Its enabled me to get out and about under my own steam, although my wrist is too week to hold the bike up properly, if really needed! So more exercise to the wrist and it can only get better. Anyone out there got any magic cures to increase mobility? Pretending there isn't a problem doesn't seem to work anymore; bugger, I've succumbed, I've become a mere mortal, vulnerable to the realities of life. No longer able to bury pain, whether physical or emotional, and continue, seemingly oblivious to the rigours of life. Of course, this is a portrayal of many people's lives.

Really it's just the stiff upper lip attitude, eh what old boy! And whatever is said, it can be a very useful character trait. Letting the pain control you is detrimental, feeling it doesn't need to be. You can, and need to, experience the pain to some extent. I can't be healthy to bury your head in the sand, neither is it to allow the pain to sweep you away. In whatever form it takes, the pain must be accepted as part of life, not the end of life! There is no point in allowing it to be your life, what a miserable existence that would be. But ignore it and the damage may never go away! At the end of the day, if you can still feel pain, you're still alive. So don't whinge about it, or be a martyr, accept it and keep living!

Recently I've opened up to families again, not a feeling I found comfortable when first coming home. It really seemed to heighten the grief already present. Seeing nice happy families when I had nothing, it sucked! Self pity is difficult to bear, maybe even harder to admit to yourself, and extremely difficult to pull yourself out of, especially when the circumstances don't change. I still feel sorry for myself, sorry I had to lose Cai, sorry to be alone; for sure, I wish I wasn't in the position I find myself in. But there isn't much I can do to change things, so the only thing to do is moving forward. So I've been spending time with more families, enjoying the buzz you can get from kids. Its opening up my heart again, it may be slow, but it is progress.

If I hadn't made that step forward I couldn't enjoy my nephews and niece, nor the hoards of kids I went camping with. So I owe thanks to all concerned for contributing to this shift forward. I'm aware these interactions do not have the depth of emotional experience I'd ultimately desire, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I still feel vulnerable, reluctant to open my heart, scared of loving and losing again. I hope this emotional journey is getting me somewhere, above all I hope to regain my full range of emotions, to again find the capacity to feel love without the associated fear.

Home, but where's the heart?

For some obscure reason it didn't really feel relaxing to get back home from Cyprus; it felt an instant drain on my emotional reserves, sucking away any enthusiasm to accomplish anything worthwhile. I felt trapped again, the only significance action was to reduce the asking price for my house. I want out, I want to rid myself of this place, allow myself a new start. My home is no longer my safe haven! Being at home is like voluntary imprisonment, incarcerating oneself to spite yourself. This doesn't mean I want to consciously punish myself, but knowing the effect its having on me, and still not doing anything about it, tends to force a masochistic cycle of emotional turmoil. I guess it isn't so much actively making myself suffer, it's really a matter of not being proactive in dealing with it, allowing it to continue. Awareness is one thing, doing something about it is easier said than done though!

Actually I should look at this more objectively: I've broken my frigging wrist, so I have no transport and walking too far seems to induce my arm to swell and throb in the caste. The use of my right arm is severely hampered, I am gradually increasing the things I can do, though become it's more frustrating the longer I have the caste on. I don't have any outlet for my frustration, which has compounded the negative emotions I've been dealing with anyway. Since Cai died I haven't really released any anger, can't say I've felt much either, but I've known its there. Not far below the surface there has been anger lurking, waiting for expression, release. I've dreaded the thought of being stopped by the police, due to their petty minded bigotry towards motorcyclists, I've severely doubted my ability to keep it all in check if subjected to such an affront. Miraculously whatever adverse situations I have been confronted with have seemed insignificant compared to losing Cai. I've not been looking for an excuse to vent the anger, merely wanting credible focus for it.

For many years I worked at the ever present anger that developed in my formative years, an anger created by the inherent injustice of our world. Much of my youth rebelling against any figure of authority, in particular a narrow minded, intolerant, bigot of a father. His attitude was there was something wrong with me, no matter how harsh he was over my misdemeanors I never learned. There again, if the only attention you get from someone is reprimands, the chances are you will seek that sort of attention; I did! My father told me, in my adulthood, if I hadn't been such a little shit, he wouldn't have needed to be so heavy handed with me. Oh dear, such a lack of awareness, so little understanding! At 14-15 yrs old I was suspended from school, for nothing more than putting a bright red Bowie streak, through my peroxide blond hair. I had little more than one foot in the school gate when the headmaster bellowed from his window, "Les Kay, get up to my office now." I was suspended immediately, I wasn't to be seen there until my hair was back to normal; and he was easier going than my old man! The streak had been put in for a party at my parents house, my mum was working away in London, my father's shift didn't finish until 10pm; so it had to be over before he got back home. It was, just about! Most people were making a move; once an ambulance had been called few wanted to be implicated in my comatose drunkenness. My father arrived as I was being loaded into the ambulance, I was not a popular person! He made my life as miserable as he could, done his utmost to put me down, to belittle me. At least by that age I was taller and better developed than the old git, physical retribution had become a thing of the past, just!

Not once did my father realise, his bull headed manner actually exacerbated the situation. I knew, from a fairly early age; the more shit or pressure I'm given the harder I'll dig in my heals. I understood that, while he never did, and still doesn't! I felt contempt for him rather than the respect he demanded, for me this is a fundamental difference between him and me, in raising a son; you gain respect by earning it, not demanding it! I don't begrudge my earlier life though, it gave me a better understanding of how not to form a close bond with a child. Having lost the chance to form such a relationship with my daughter, Renae, I determined to make up for it with Cai. Almost without exception I used my father as an example, I stood him on a pedestal, anything he may have done I did the opposite with Cai. It worked, it may have been hard, but the bond we formed made it all worthwhile. I made many mistakes, I had to fight against my own earlier conditioning, but when this came to the forefront I would identify it for what it was, explain it to Cai. It gave him an insight as to what I was fighting against, an appreciation of how much effort I put into safeguarding him from destructive behavior patterns. Funnily enough, Cai got suspended from school at fifteen, for having a bit of weed in his possession. He was mortified, it earned him cult hero status at school; he didn't want the attention. Both me and Gabe were happy for him to partake in a smoke of pot, as long as it didn't interfere with his school work! And yes, we did know he smoked pot before this instance! Better than joining the other youngsters at school, binge drinking, getting aggressive and throwing up. I was happy for him to indulge, he showed a remarkable amount of self restraint, he didn't get stoned during the school week, and kept it within reason most other times.

I've learned, with age, to show authority the respect it demands, in most instances. I couldn't face his headmaster and say "so what?" I had to dress Cai down a strip, impress the head with my attitude to pot smoking. Poor Cai tried to answer me back, I had to verbally slap him down, show I would not stand for such behavior. I did explain this after we left, he then realised I had acted in that manner to ensure the police weren't involved. I'd avoided our house being searched, maybe an official caution for him; therefore a blot on his record. He understood and we got three weeks together with no school. He finished the work he was given in the first week, then we enjoyed the rest of the time! Irresponsible? I don't think so; open and honest I call it! He didn't hide much from me, I knew what he was doing in most spheres of life. There was understanding and acceptance between us, I earned a great deal of respect from Cai, and he from me, it wasn't obtained by demanding it!

Photos show us both at 14-15 yrs, and again at 17 yrs old!

Cai ap Leslie 20/02/89 - 03/07/07

My beloved son, my best friend, my confidante - WHAT A WASTE!!

Words could never explain how empty and pointless life has become for me. A year has passed since the loss of Cai, it has been the longest year of my life. I've struggled on, without reason, just because I can/should. All I really want is to be reunited with him, but for some absurd reason that would be giving in.





Cai did indeed have the world at his fingertips, he attained the best grades in his year at college, an achievement he never got to celebrate. He could have studied what he wanted, easily got into medical school and become a doctor. He could have gone out into the world and made that difference he was so keen to make. He believed in chaos theory, how right he seems to be!!



A precious life thrown away because of some idiot's negligence in the preparation of his brand new motorcycle. A pox on that scum, I prey he knows it's him and it haunts him for the rest of his days: I know Cai would disagree! Though I feel my anger should be directed at those responsible, why should it be self consuming?


But today is the day to reflect on a more positive note, something I find so hard. Cai was an idealist, he believed in the good of everyone, believed we could all improve if given the right opportunities. Many of us could learn a lot by considering the views of this bright, sensitive young man. I hope I can prove him right, I hope I can adopt more of his ideals myself!

I know how much he is missed by so many, how much he influenced so many lives. Its rare for one so young to make such an impression, I'm proud to have been involved in his life, so proud of the person he became. He'll be sorely missed forever!

If anyone has ever deserved to be in a better place than our mortal existence I believe it's Cai. I hope there is indeed a better life after death, I hope Cai is to be found happy and beyond pain. I can only hope I will eventually rejoin him and once more bathe in his brilliance!

Karaoke King.....

Its been remiss of me to forget the followers of my blog, whilst my immediate journey may have come to a rest, the emotional one has a long way to go yet. The interest and support over the last twelve months has been a great help to me, in fact at times it was what gave me the strength to continue. For family and friends at home my return has meant a release from their long distant concern, but I've been both short sighted and self possessed. My consideration for everyone else was so much more acute while travelling, since coming home I've lost that, I've been too entrenched in my own immediate world. My apologies, I like to believe I'm a better person than that! I'll make more of an effort, as I would like to continue writing, and I really appreciate everyone who does read my blog.

I'm still in Cyprus and being treated to a wonderful time by my host! I'm not really one for quick two week visits to holiday resorts, but for this one I'm truly grateful. Ain't it nice to be looked after so well, without demands or expectations? breaking my wrist only a week before coming away would have made it a nightmare coping alone, luckily I haven't had to. I can't really cook, drive, clean up or do much else for myself, I can barely dress myself. So its with eternal gratitude I've been catered for, transported to the various beauty spots of the island, accompanied when-ever and where-ever I want, even left in peace as I desire.

Why do I make such a point of this to you all? Because I only know Sandra through my blog! Someone who thought I could do with a short break, hoping it would encourage me to write that book she knows I would like to keep making progress with. And so the poignancy of my appreciation of my blog readers becomes clear, I owe a lot to you all. There are still comments being made from total strangers which bring home how helpful my writing is for some. It feels so good to realise, anew, how useful it can be for others suffering bereavement, to feel they are not alone. I know it has helped me so much, so often. You know such people understand how you feel, they may make judgements on the levels of grief felt, depending on the relationship of those lost; but any loved one lost is torturous!

Another important marker approaches, the anniversary of Cai's death! How I can even refer to it as an anniversary is beyond me; aren't they dates for celebration? Again for this important date I've chosen to be away from home, I've chosen to distance myself from the place we shared so much of his life. It was our sanctuary, our safe haven, our place of happiness. Small wonder I can barely stand to be there, no surprise I know I must move out, move on, to find a new life! Every day the temptation to run away hounds me, it isn't any solution now. It still represents my main stumbling block, I must sort it out before starting afresh! Its fine finding distractions, but they don't get you over the loss; they merely take your thoughts away from the pain. I still believe the only way to overcome this, in the long run, is to face it, challenge it full on and work through it. But I must beware my whole life is not lost in doing so, that is the danger!

Unlike me, I haven't been able to just lay in the sun for hours. Within a fairly short time my wrist and hand swell, the pressure inside the caste gets uncomfortable and I have to sit indoors, with the air con, to cool down. Of course there are quicker ways to achieve this, like holding my arm close to the air con unit and allowing a cool through draft. This has also meant restrictions on driving around, again it induces swelling and discomfort. We have been out a bit, but no luxuriating on golden beaches, no jumping in the water, no swimming and no potentially dangerous activities. The silver lining, as there is to most things, I've sat down and started writing again, which has put me back in touch with myself more.

Last weekend we got invited to a party on the little estate where we're staying. The resident ex-pats were really nice people, the evening was great fun and I sang karaoke for my first time, "King of the Road." Despite being really nervous about it, it went surprisingly well, by the end I'd settled down and actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the company, which made me feel a bit unkind in my criticism of ex-patriots, it doesn't make it less true, maybe unfair to only point out the negative aspects of people. Without exception they were friendly, generous, hospitable folk who went out of their way to include us and entertain us. It was a pleasure to to spend the night with them all, I didn't get to bed until 5 am and I was really hammered.

Goodbye golden dream machine!

So much, yet so little, has happened in the last couple of months. In many ways it seems life has not progressed at all; my ability to cope has improved massively, yet I often feel as bereaved as ever. At these times the severity and suddenness of grief is overwhelming. A couple of weeks ago I was poleaxed, without forethought or warning, brought to my knees by wracking tears, fighting to maintain a grip on my sanity. And I kid you not, I thought I'd moved past such uncontrollable emotions, it really took me by surprise. The funny thing is, I don't feel I want to lose that sense of loss, whether or not I acknowledge the need to move on. I don't want to lose the rest of my life to such harrowing grief, but nor do I want to forsake the myriad thoughts and memories of Cai. I want to turn those thoughts and memories into smiles and lovely feelings for the wonderful times I got to share with Cai.

The presentation of my slide show went extremely well, so well in fact I found it hard to accept the praise heaped upon me. For me it was important to systematically relive my journey, but only the physical aspect of it. I'm not sure it makes sense, there was a need to separate the physical and emotional aspects. While travelling everything was wrapped up in an emotional quagmire, emotions dictated where, when and how everything occurred. Since returning home I've been unable to recount the physical journey without being embroiled in the emotions again. I needed to rectify this, I wanted to share the many wonderful photos, the experience untainted by grief. It done it for me, it seemed to for those attending. So thank you for coming, it was a pleasure for me, very therapeutic!

Despite my Kawasaki being home I haven't managed to get it registered for the UK yet, a combination of me being lethargic and over zealous jobs worthies in the vehicle inspectorate. It would have been lovely for people to have seen it parked outside for my presentation, legalities wouldn't allow though, I didn't want to risk running foul of the law really. As it turned out it was good everyone got to see my Triumph before I wrote it off! Yes, my lovely yellow peril has bitten the dust! It came off so much worse than me, I only have a broken wrist, the triumph is not looking good. A council van swept in from the side of the dual carriageway forcing me into the central barrier, ouch! So, at least six weeks in plaster caste and an enormous amount of frustration at not being able to do anything. Oh well, I guess I won't have to go through the process of selling it now! that is of little consolation. Hopefully by the time I get my caste off the kwacker will be registered, then let the fun begin.

Do I sound complacent about being involved in yet another accident? I've lost my son, done in my knee and now broken my wrist; all due to motorcycle accidents! The common question has been, "don't you think there's a lesson in there?" There may well be for some, I have more resilience though. A crucial question for any accident involving more than vehicle is, "who's fault was it?" Honesty here is vital, if you are not honest you're travelling down the road to certain extinction, especially being a bike rider. There are safe parameters when riding, this doesn't mean nothing can happen, you can never guarantee that. Optimised, these give you the best chance of survival, minimised and you're constantly exposed to serious injury. There are many levels in between these two extremes. I know I have a reckless nature, but I try to keep this within safe margins when riding. I can't always predict what another road user is going to do, as I'm more at risk I try very hard to make allowances for the most incompetent reaction from other drivers. At times I can be slightly more lax, but that doesn't mean I have caused the accident, my only fault being I didn't predict and act according to avoid it.

Disabled or not, I've decided to accept a very kind offer to come away on holiday to Cyprus. A fortnight to kick back and relax, which is good as I can't do a lot more. We're lucky really, our villa is in a very quiet part of the north island. We may well be within a small estate of British ex-pats, luckily most villas have yet to be moved onto and they have all been finished. Driving around the coast there are many areas of really gross development, another victim of massive expansion of rich Europeans taking advantage of cheap accommodation to invest in. As is so often the case, it is fast becoming a little Britain, they rarely integrate or adopt the local language. So the Turk Cypriots who learn English benefit immensely, they get more than their fair share of trade. How long before the local populace realise their culture is being lost to the influx of foreign nationals? How much of their beautiful island has to be lost to foreign money before they realise the environmental devastation.

I must be fair, it isn't just Brits, there is a general exodus from Europe into poorer, less developed countries. It is just happening at a phenomenal rate here, Thailand is the only other
place I've seen it on such a massive level. Both these places sport continuous blocks of newly developing accommodation to satisfy the craving of foreigners. Both seem oblivious to the effect on the general populace, it isn't the normal every day people who benefit here, they're priced out the market. They don't even get much of the work supposedly brought into the country, ex-pats do like sticking together!