Big Bird Bike Travels

From the Costa del Sol, Jebel Musa and the other mountains of northern Morocco can just be seen peering over the heat haze sitting along the horizon of the calm blue Mediterranean Sea. 

Friends and family send photos and messages of freezing Britain, whilst Ken and I sip coffee/beer/wine at a beachfront cafe as the calm waters of the sea lap against the shore.

It’s times like this that make me think it was the right decision to risk the trip. With pain comes doubt, and in the week prior to departure I had sufficient to sow that seed of doubt, it was a gamble I eventually decided to take.

Travelling is not always the easy option, especially if there are ‘issues’ to deal with. After Rachel passed away they were emotional issues, now it’s very much physical.

Looking back on my journey to the Costa del Sol, and the things I did before Ken joined me for a week, it seems like all went fine, the off road driving, the Spanish fell walks and the sightseeing around Granada all took some effort, but went off pretty much without a hitch.

Down here in Estepona there were places I wanted to show Ken and all in all we did everything we wanted (I think), but not without a hiatus. That was when the question of an early return entered my head. But with Ken’s support I got back on track and am now hopefully set up to complete what I started, so thanks Ken for ‘rolling with it’. 😆

A lot of catching up since the last blog! 😳

Although I wasn’t quite firing on all cylinders for the entirety of Ken’s time with me we still managed to rattle off a few places, so I reckon we gave it a decent shot.

What a contrast in weathers! From a 4×4 drive across a tricky and snowy A69 to Newcastle airport with reports that it was closed due to the weather, to cruising along the Costa del Sol in an open top sports car! Although there were worrying reports of the flights out of Newcastle, it turned out to be not as bad as expected with his flight being delayed just two hours. It ended up being a late arrival for him to Malaga where we stayed the night before cruising to our accommodation in Estepona, there was no rush so tried to steer clear as much as possible of the AP7 and A7.

Ronda

A place Ken’s dad recommended him to go and which I had also earmarked as a must visit. Most tourists who stay in the Marbella area probably take an excursion to Ronda but few in a Porsche Boxster. The legendary A-397 which climbs the 30 miles from San Pedro de Alcantara to the tourist mecca is a driver’s and rider’s paradise and as such the police’s with several warning signs about speed detection. Unfortunately we were stuck behind a lorry for longer than I would have preferred but it may have saved me a few euros. Nevertheless we were able to get some spirited driving in for the most part and, unless I return to a bundle of fines, seem to have escaped unscathed.

After a fairly quick visit to Ronda we returned back down to the coast via some of my other favourite roads, the A-369 to Gaucin and in particular the A-405 to San Pablo de Buceite, en route to the rich person’s playground of Sotogrande.

For some reason the day, or possibly a build up of the weeks prior, had taken their toll and I ended up being grounded for two days giving this ageing body time to recover. I felt a little bad about cramping Ken’s style but he was cool with everything and may suggest he doesn’t have a style to cramp? But I really wanted us to get to Gibraltar……

Gibraltar

Just a 40 minute drive from our gaff, a place I had been to with Rachel but never up the rock as the top was covered in cloud at the time, so this was a visit for both Ken and me.

In the van we had parked in La Linea and walked across the runway into Gib, but as I got closer to the British Overseas Territory I pondered driving in, yes we would do it. The signs approaching the border control were a little confusing so I just plumped for one of the few lanes which looked best. No issues and we were in in no time, the road goes through a tunnel under the runway and we found a suitable multi-storey car park near enough to the hub of activity.

There are pluses and minuses to driving in Gib, fortunately we only experienced the pluses in, no charge for the car park (coz there was a fault) and fuel at just over one euro a litre, we were also able to drive around the rock 👍🏼

It could’ve been so much different though! On our seven mile drive around the peninsular we saw three groups of police officers doing radar checks. I never saw a speed limit above 40kph, although I was reliably informed that there are places where 50kph is permitted. The small dual carriageway on the north side is actually 30kph which is less than 19mph, the police were having a field day, but not with us! Ten percent leeway given, but £300 fine for being 1 mph over that!

Casares (and the vultures)

I have a soft spot for this place, I am just fascinated by the huge birds, maybe it’s because I’m a Big Bird? But whatever the reason I dragged Ken up to the village area so that I could try to get some decent photographs courtesy of a camera Andy (Mills) very kindly loaned me.

To conclude

Early Monday morning I returned Ken to Malaga airport for his flight back to a cooler and wetter England, then I popped in to Fuengirola to briefly meet up with Paul and Chris (who are holidaying here for a few weeks) before I returned to my apartment in Estepona for a few days.

Tuesday 2nd January started with, if not great expectations, then certainly half decent ones. But as is so often the case in this world of travel, expectations are frequently not met, and today was one of those days with the only recovery from an otherwise disappointing day coming at my very last stop, but more of that later. 

The experience Rachel and I gained over our many years of travel should have taught me a lesson but sometimes I think I’ll never be old enough to know better. During our last couple of years of travel Rachel would sometimes say “But will we be able to see that”? It was a lesson I should’ve taken more notice of, but yet I continue to this day falling into the same trap. Still, you’ll never really know if you don’t go, but Rachel’s valid point was based on photographs taken either from a drone, with a fancy lens or had been enhanced to such an extent as to make them seem far more appealing then they truly are, a bit like all the photographs we now see of the Northern Lights, as the camera takes a more dramatic photo than the eye can see.

Back to today’s shortfalls.

#1. Bateria de Castillitos

#2. Las Gredas de Bolnuevo

#3. Cortijo del Fraile

All these places I’d earmarked due to my research on the internet, something that is all part of my enjoyment of the whole travel experience.

Bateria de Castillitos

A 20 minute drive from the main road, the first half of which is on a dodgy surface but hey, I laugh in the face of dodgy surfaces even if Herman doesn’t? Unusually the second half was surprisingly good due to it being recently resurfaced, most strange!

As is typical of my ‘just go and think later’ attitude, I headed up to the highest point which wasn’t actually the place I should’ve gone, but better to do the hard stuff first. There are three ‘sites’ within the site but I won’t bore you with the finer points unless you plan on going?

Briefly I would skip the ‘high’ one and save yourself at least a mile’s walk. In total it took three miles to do them all and I was left a little bit underwhelmed by it, although it’s still in my travel ethos to visit places even if they turn out to fall short.

Las Gredas de Bolnuevo

Two funny shaped eroded sandstone rocks supplemented by a few hundred metres of a supporting cast. OK, not out of my way so worth popping in for a deek.

Cortijo del Fraile

Of The Good, The Bad and The Ugly fame. Another 20 minute dusty drive to a film location which failed to live up to its ‘billing’. The tree has since ‘passed away’ and the building is now fenced off. Oh well, another never to be revisited.

But the day ended well 🤗

No hotel booked so just rocked up at one from the Barcelo chain at Retamar (just outside Almería), very nice indeed and I got B&B for slightly less than off Booking.com, I was well impressed with this one which ended up finishing off the day rather nicely.

Castillo de la Calahorra (3 Sept)

Definitely not a let down en route to my next overnighter. I’m not the sort for museums and the like, my limited attention span doesn’t allow for such things, what really captures my appreciation of travel is seeing places the like of which do not exist elsewhere, or at least not closer to home. In the main I’m a scenery person, but impressive buildings with dramatic backdrops is something worth travelling to see, which was the case with this latest castle.

Herman grumbled a bit on the drive up as his tyres fought for grip even with traction control on, but we made it unscathed (again). Not for the first time on this trip has his lack of ground clearance caused me a little concern! 😆

Today’s a first! (Saturday 4th Sept)

No longer am I waiting for the restaurant to open for breakfast and out before any other guests have surfaced, and no longer am I on the road by 9am, for today Herman’s wheels will not turn.

It’s the first time that I’m doing more than a one night stand and I’m here in Granada for two.

Yesterday’s visit to the Alhambra didn’t quite work out, “No tickets available until 7th” which meant I missed out on the Alcázar and gardens, however it is free to walk around the grounds, so all was not lost after the rather arduous steep 2k walk up from the centre.

The little I’ve seen of Granada I very much like, very busy maybe partly due to the holiday period and this weekend’s Three Kings celebrations for which Spain is renowned.

The place has an air of sophistication about it, as is typical of many European cities people seem to take pride in their appearance and those of all ages get dressed up for an evening out, whether it’s the younger generation going out for a lively evening or those even older than me having just a stroll and late dinner! I feel very under-dressed, and it highlights the cultural differences between the likes of Spain and Italy compared with the UK, it makes me think…🤔

Although the Alhambra is the big attraction to this city, for me the district of Albaicin has been the highlight, possibly because I never actually got into the Alhambra properly? But like I say, viewing it from Albaicin and the contrast of this suburb was worth the trip here alone! I hope to get some better photographs later but for the time being you’ll have to make do with these:

After trying my hand at a mini version of the Dakar Rally, another unexpected treat lay a few miles up the road in the shape of the N420 to Cuenca. If this road wasn’t going to be enough to make today a good driving day, then the A23 motorway from Zaragoza to Teruel certainly was a great hors d’oeuvres to the main course!

How can a motorway drive be enjoyable? It’s surely the worst way to see a country, and in that respect this motorway was no different from any other. But what sets it apart from every motorway I’ve driven in England was the lack of traffic, lack of roadworks and lack of a poor surface. In those hundred miles I’d be surprised if I saw 50 vehicles on my carriageway, no roadworks and a billiard table smooth surface. I would go for mile after mile without seeing anything else, could you imagine such a scenario on a motorway in England, surely not? I therefore arrived at my planned stop fairly relaxed, which was just as well as things were about to change.

Just west of Teruel is Rambla Barrachina, a place I’d earmarked as a ‘must visit’. The very narrow turning from the main road onto a dusty track made me a little cautious, but I had previously viewed the turning on Google Street View, had I not then I would surely have missed it. The satnav did a surprisingly good job and I recklessly put my trust in it. Had I been driving anything with a ground clearance more than that of a dachshund then I have no doubt I could’ve tootled along with gay abandon. But to avoid a visit to Lloyd’s bodyshop on my return, I had to carefully plot a route less likely to create scraping noises from Herman the German’s belly, there was no escape without a scrape, but only underneath.

I made a good decision to park up where I did and continue my exploratory mission on foot. The incredible colours of the rocks really drew me in, it was still cold, maybe around 0c and there was frost on the plants hidden from the sun’s rays. I scrambled up some small hills to get better vantage points and this was when I wished I’d brought my grippy off-road trainers. Walking on the fells in my home county I always wear the appropriate footwear but I only had my ‘road trainers’ with me on this trip and consequently grip on the loose surfaces was poor to non existent. Going up is always easier, coming down I ended up using the 3-point method – two feet and my backside. But I eventually returned to the car unscathed and left with very fond memories of being in such a remarkable natural environment.

Once back on a proper road it was west to Cuenca on what I can only describe as one/two of my now favourite roads. Firstly the N330 squeezes between dramatic sandstone gorges and no frills villages which I could imagine will be baking hot during the summer months. Turning right at Torrebaja I joined what must be a hooligan’s paradise, a 70 mile private race track! It was unbelievable for pretty much every reason a driver or biker would want. Wide 2 or 3 lanes of smooth road surface that undulates on a scale that makes the A6 over Shap seem like a bump in the road. Some great bends and barely another vehicle to be seen, no speed cameras nor police (will check my post when I’m home) and seriously, the 90kph speed limit could be doubled in places, not that I did of course, honestly officer.

All in all it turned out to be another day where I did too much of everything. Arriving at Cuenca I walked much further than I intended and returned to my hotel in no fit state to party all night, but today will be logged under the ‘very enjoyable’ heading.

Not quite Plan B, just a little tweaking of my original idea to trim the driving time down, and maybe not do quite so much walking as I did on Saturday.

It’s an interesting conundrum, pressing on to tick as many boxes as possible yet trying not to ‘do my pan in’!

“Take it easy”, the words of friends and family ringing in my ears nudged me to a little compromise, so I bombed off Hondarribia by the French border but still couldn’t resist knocking off a little coastal drive through this Basque region, before turning south and heading into Aragon. So after taking the nadgery coastal road visiting Lekeitio and Getaria I took the roads less used skirting around Pamplona until I eventually arrived at the hilltop village of Sos del Rey Católico.

Since disembarking the ferry on Saturday morning I had the top down (the car’s not mine) for the entire time I was ‘up North’ basque-ing in the sunshine. But heading into Aragon it turned cooler from the 15c it had peaked at, and I ended up hitting low cloud for the last hour of my journey. I was convincing myself that I was actually destined for a hilltop village and trusted I would see the sun again. I was less than 2 miles away from my destination and still shrouded in cloud as the climb to Sos del Rey commenced. As sure as eggs is eggs there was the blue sky again and I was greeted with the village bathed in sunshine. 😎

But make no mistake, it was quite cool and by the following morning I was scraping ice off the car as the low cloud returned. It was a bit slape underfoot as I set off at 9.30 on Monday morning but again, in no time I had climbed out of the fog to the glorious sunshine at Puerto de Sos. The snow was clearly visible on the mountain range on the other side of the valley to the northeast of me but a long way from the Pyrenees.

Descending from Puerto de Sos I remained in low cloud for the rest of the day which actually served a good purpose as it prevented dust from being thrown up as I traversed the semi desert of Bardenas Reales.

I’m now in Zaragoza, having arrived at 3pm and am treating myself to a good hotel so I can get a decent rest before the next two days of 200+ miles each, which should get me to the Costa Cálida (Cartagena area). Obviously there will be sightseeing en route 🤗.

Cumbria to Cantabria

After spending a night, a day and a night sleeping on the car deck, Herman the German was itching to get his wheels rolling on terra firma, well if he wasn’t then his ‘pilot’ certainly was!

The quick and inexpensive way to get to Spain is how Ken and possibly Andy D will, jump on a cheap flight and be over here in the number of hours you can count on one hand, as opposed to the 50 hours it took me from driving out of CA3 to pulling onto the dry sunny roads of northern Spain. I suppose I could have done the former and hired a car when over here, but picking up a convertible sports car for a month would ramp up the cost considerably and doesn’t have the kudos of doing it the way a proper motoring explorer should, or at least I can kid myself that.

I’ve loved riding Reg my old Rocket to the North Cape and the Canary Islands, hiring a bike for such trips just isn’t on my agenda and so neither is hiring a car, Herman and I do things together 🤗. 

Before I get into today (Saturday) here are some photographs I promised you from the ferry crossing, if you want to see video then (eventually) you will need to tune in to my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@BriKinsella

Saturday

My intention was to knock off a few fishing villages along the north coast and all went according to plan with me eventually arriving at my hotel at Mundaka six hours after disembarking, having called in at Playa de Berria, Castro Urdialles and Gaztellugatxe (good luck with pronouncing that one!)

Mundaka

I would describe Mundaka as ‘authentic’, draw your own conclusions from that, but my take is that it’s a no airs and graces kind of place but friendly and pleasant enough. My one star hotel (even one star hotels by the coast are knocking on £100 per night) surprised me. Walking in through the front door there was quite a commotion in the small bar to the right, it was just down to my timing as much as anything, arriving during the early afternoon at the peak of a lunchtime ‘sesh’. Although reception had the appearance of a small Fawlty Towers setup the surprise awaited me as I walked up the wide polished wooden staircase onto an unexpected modern landing. The bedroom has everything I need, with the exception of tea & coffee making facilities but you know me, have kettle will travel.

Back in Carlisle I had doubts, doubts whether I should go on this latest Spanish trip. It’s only been seven months since I was last abroad in the car yet it seems so much longer, maybe because during four of those months I was preoccupied with all things chemo related?

My doubts about this latest trip were instigated by the return of a nagging twinge in my midriff accompanied by other symptoms which, had I not been diagnosed with this latest cancer back in May, I would probably just put down to getting older which, in fact may actually be the case.

Nevertheless the doubts were there and a week before departure I started to ask myself whether I was doing the right thing by embarking on such a trip?

Life is easier at home, everything just where we want it, and keeping in a routine is much more doable compared to being ‘on the road’. But I’m at odds with the easy option, the comfort zone is not a place which is good for my head, it never has been. Rachel and I always preferred our travels to have a little ‘edge’ to them and I don’t think that I’ve lost that desire. But I wished for somebody in authority to give me a little assurance that all would be well, something I suppose nobody could really do. So on Christmas Eve, when I went to the chemo department for my six weekly bone density injection, I explained my predicament to the nurses, they managed to get my oncologist’s sidekick to come and see me. I basically told her what I wanted her to say and she duly obliged, thereby giving me a sort of self analytical green light that all would work out fine. Armed with this self reassurance, for self reassurance read bull$h!7, I talked myself into thinking/hoping that it will be a venture worth the risk, I’d rather have niggles travelling than sit at home contemplating my navel, or whatever one does when bored?

So Boxing Day I headed south to Portsmouth for the midnight ferry to Santander (almost sounds like a song title). My friend Gav from Guildford drove the one hour to meet me and wave me off treating his dear wife to the pleasure of a Boxing Day evening out, I’m sure she’s had much better ones! It was great to see them both and we chatted away for over an hour before we went our separate ways, Gav & Deirdrie back home and me the two minute drive to the queue for the ferry. 

How do I feel? 

The doubts are receding.

Here’s to the next four weeks 🤞🏼

Who needs the Commodore Lounge?

It wasn’t long after my introduction to solo Euro travelling back in 2021 (when I first met Gav) that I discovered the Commodore Lounge, Brittany Ferries attempt at a bit of upmarket ‘socialising’, ‘you get a better quality of tourist in the Commodore Lounge’, I hasten to add that’s my take on it rather than Brittany Ferries advertising strapline. They must have introduced this option immediately after us bikers had disembarked the ferry back in September of that year, as neither Gav nor I seemed to be aware of it at the time. I returned to the same ferry in spring 2022 (en route to my Canary Island venture) and for a mere £25 there was access to all day snacks and unlimited alcohol. I thought ‘this won’t last once they realise what the Brits are like’! In one sense I was wrong, it has lasted, but without the same terms and conditions. It’s now £80 and the alcohol isn’t as free flowing as it once was! The alcohol side of things no longer interests me as my post operative body has determined that such beverages now sit at the bottom of my desirable list. Nevertheless Gav, who is also a tea-totalling ferry-master recommended it, so I thought I would treat myself for this outward sailing only to be told that it was fully booked. Being the experienced traveller I am I was undeterred, I am well equipped with all the luxuries a Euro-hopper could wish for, I have a travel kettle! Ok, so it doesn’t really compare with all day hors d’oeuvres and canapés as well as access to a more plush lounge and prime viewing area, but what more does a Brit need than the ability to make a brew wherever and whenever he/she so wishes? 

Alone again, naturally 

The words of the curly haired 1970’s pop music icon Gilbert O’Sullivan, for those old enough to remember those ‘heady’ days, seem apt at this moment.

I’ve adjusted to solo travelling over last last few years and had come to appreciate the benefits that come with it. In no way is that to detract from what Rachel and I did, I look back at our time touring as being in perfect harmony, as most other things in our lives were. 

My biking and driving ventures since 2020 are now starting to get split between solo trips and sharing the journeys with mates. Ray, Ken, Paul and Andy D have all either biked with me or rode shotgun in the Boxster and this trip will be no different, if all goes according to plan, but for the next week it’s just down to me.

However, the empty seat syndrome is still something that impacts my life, it’s not a big deal but it is a deal, and requires a little adjustment to my mindset. I suppose the monotonous 360 miles of motorway driving on Boxing Day and killing 33 hours on a ferry is probably the time I’m more likely to think about it? I’m sure that once the wheels are rolling in sunny Spain I will be engrossed in absorbing the type of travelling I really love

So I thank you for allowing me to share my journeys with you, it’s more rewarding than talking to myself! 😆

PS. Photographs will have to wait until I hit dry land due to the speed of the on board wifi!

I always welcomed hearing the friendly female Geordie accent of my specialist nurse Claire, regardless of what she would tell me, which often turned out to be not such good news. She just has this friendly and comforting tone to her voice that can make even bad news seem palatable. We could laugh together even in circumstances which, on the face of it, we’re not matters to be taken lightly. Maybe it was black humour, which people often use to deal with difficult situations, possibly something I perfected during my 30 years as a police officer, and no doubt is in the armoury of those who are at the sharp end of the health service!

So this particular conversation went something like this:

“Hi Brian, it’s Claire, is it ok to speak”?

“Yeah sure, go ahead”

“I’m afraid the biopsies we took showed traces of cancer cells”

“I’m not surprised, I was expecting that to be the case”

That was the introduction to a longer conversation which took place during my last European venture back in May, when I was driving north through Austria en route back from Tuscany, aaah…. memories of Tuscany! 🤗

My return to England was greeted with a scan, the results of which were described as “Worse than we expected”, which led to four months of palliative chemotherapy. That took me until the end of October, but during that ‘down time’ I couldn’t help but ponder when I could embark on my next Euro trip. Despite thinking inwardly that ‘I’m not going to get ahead of myself’, midway through chemo I couldn’t help but start to plan. I’d got into my routine of the chemo cycle and could deal with that, but was prevented from European travel until this course of treatment was completed. What lies beyond for me is very uncertain, the cancer is deemed as inoperable and my oncologist foresees periods of treatment and periods of non treatment until…..well, your guess is as good as mine.

So I set to dreaming of when and where I could go once the shackles were off. During the winter months a return to Spain was the obvious choice, so I got back on my planning horse and did the necessary research resulting in a ferry from Portsmouth to Santander at midnight on Boxing Day. My final destination would be the Costa del Sol, but unsurprisingly for me, you may think, I had plenty of other ‘must sees’ across the country well before I arrived at the warmest and driest part of mainland Europe.

My biking mate Ken has agreed to meet me out there in early January, so for him, we booked a week’s return flight Newcastle to Malaga and I would time my arrival there to coincide with his, which would give me eight days of meandering down through Spain’s interior, perfect.

I’ve rented the same apartment that I stayed in at Estepona a year ago, I’m familiar with the area, not only because of that last trip there, but many years ago Rachel and I spent ten weeks in Andalucia in our motorhome. Hopefully the weather will be very favourable and  I can show Ken some of the places I know, with the car’s roof down we probably can’t avoid the (unfounded) assumptions of passers by!

I have plans for after Ken returns, which at this time are ‘subject to change’. All will be revealed in due course, but in any event I’ll be back in Blighty late January.

Watch this space…….

Survival

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a blog as I’ve turned most of my ‘downtime’ into creating YouTube videos which, if interested, can be found here. 

https://www.youtube.com/@BriKinsella/featured

However, I’ve returned to the keybored (sic) due to a podcast I did with a Polish lady Anita Odachowska. She had been directed to my YouTube channel by a friend and Porsche enthusiast who watched ‘Cancer in me, but me in a Porsche across Europe’

Anita has vast experience in the media and working for government agencies, I can’t seem to successfully embed her website into this post so if interested search anitaodachowska.pl

But her podcasts are based around the following:

• “On This Side” , the subject of which may surprise listeners of my verbal columns from the podcast Fabryka Słowa, because it is woven around death, mourning, trauma, depression, and my mission is to wisely accompany people suffering after the loss of someone close, helping them find a new meaning in life, and to make those who have not yet experienced anyone’s death aware that it is right next to us and to teach them to accept that it will come someday, and to encourage them to take better care of the quality of their lives.

Her friend, having watched my video and got an insight into my present situation, thought that my story ‘fitted’ with her podcast profile.

The podcast was done about a month ago and although my thoughts haven’t changed I still have had plenty of thinking time whilst my European touring wings have been ‘clipped’.

Having just completed my first course of six chemotherapies, who knows how many more lie ahead, if in fact any? But I suspect there’ll be plenty more treatment lying in wait over the horizon, that’s why I don’t look towards the horizon, any thoughts other than my immediate future lie tucked away in a box which I keep the lid firmly on.

So what’s this ‘survival’ thing all about you may wonder?

Whilst lying awake in bed during the early hours, let’s blame the steroid dexamethasone, or as my great friend Andy refers to it ‘Dexy’s Midnight Runners’ 😆 I got pondering what I’d been through last year which took me to the title of this blog post.

Since the birth of humanity, I think I may be right in thinking that the basic survival needs, discounting being attacked by an animal, were to be able to eat, drink and stay warm. Those basic needs are still present today, not living in a flash house, having a Porsche 😉 or motorbikes 🙄 , having the latest mobile phone or biggest telly, earning vast amounts of money so we can be the richest person in the graveyard, these are maybe nice luxuries to enjoy but are far removed from our survival needs.

We don’t give these needs a second thought because for the vast majority of us they are a ‘given’, we’ve had them all our lives, it’s been natural so why would you even give it a second thought? Until………. it’s taken away!

Now that applies to most things we have which we take for granted in life, from a loving relationship which is lost, to things as minor as “The internet’s gone down”! Or there’s no mobile signal, OMG how are we going to survive?

Last year, as many of you know, particularly those close to me, things got a bit dodgy. To use a footballing term ‘my life hit the post’ or at least the ball was cleared off the line 😬.

Yes I was warm, but the other two basic needs of being able to eat and drink were taken away from me, the tumour in my oesophagus had quickly grown to such an extent that they struggled to get the feeding tube past it and into my stomach. I hadn’t’t eaten or drank anything for five days and for the remaining five weeks survived solely on a ten hour daily liquid feed. I lost two stones (over 12 kgs) in two weeks and aged ten years. Fortunately I survived my nine days in hospital straight from my first chemo, in no small measure due to the intervention of my great friends Joe and Andy who could see that I wasn’t being properly cared for and instigated the obvious administration of saline. That may just have saved my life!

The combination of the three chemotherapies I had eventually allowed me to swallow again, the tube was removed which was one of the best feelings ever, and I could increase my bodyweight by actually swallowing again! 

I had seven weeks before the robotic assisted full day’s operation was due at the end of June. I was told that after it my life would never be the same again (and they weren’t wrong there) and that it could take a year to recover, which obviously takes me to June 2024. Yes life isn’t the same and I will spare you the list of things that are ‘not the same’ but it’s a great life, there are moments in every day that I am completely comfortable and pain free. And when I’m not, I know it’s only temporary and will pass in an hour or few.

Of course the oesophageal cancer I no longer have as the tumour was removed, so just for good measure I now have it in several places in my body but hey, that’s life (for some) and any daily uncomfortable issues I have serves as a reminder that being pain free and comfortable is yet again not a ‘given’ but something I would imagine most healthy people don’t give a second thought to because it’s natural of course, until it isn’t.

So why am I rambling on and what is the point of this blog post? Maybe that I want you to know that despite the physical challenges I have, and still enduring, I am very fortunate. At present my mindset is very good and again that isn’t a ‘given’. Some people really struggle emotionally and mentally through cancer, maybe I’ve developed a coping strategy or I’m just so thick that I don’t concern myself with anything other than this moment?

I ended one of my videos with a time-lapse of the setting sun over the Mediterranean with these words which remain my present take on life.

“There are too many positives in my life to list, from my lovely and supportive family and close friends, simple moments in life like being physically comfortable, being able to eat and drink, ride my bike and drive my car, go for a walk in my beloved Lake District, to watching the birds on the feeders in my garden. Maybe experiencing the emotional and physical traumas I have over the last four years has raised even further my appreciation of what I have? It seems that suffering has become the catalyst to enhancing my life even further. I know that challenging times lie ahead, but I’ll deal with that when I get there. I am not going to spoil this day, hour or minute worrying about the future, it would be a waste of my beautiful life”

Here is the YouTube of the podcast Anita did with me:

https://youtu.be/eNXlltsIBMs?si=pfY-VJb3jj6doiUT

I’m confined to the barracks until at least November, well barracks is maybe a slight exaggeration but certainly the UK mainland. I’m not expecting the green light to head abroad again until I finish my present run of treatment, after which I’ll be scanned yet again (I think they’re going to give me a barcode it’s been done that many times!) and if all seems Hunky Dory then I suspect I’ll be off for some winter sun, whether it’s car or bike we’ll have to see.

I know that I’ve been very quiet on here but I haven’t been idle, I’ve been busying myself on my YouTube channel 😳. Despite it attracting a surprising amount of interest (even enough that I could now earn a few pence from it) I wouldn’t yet class myself as ‘an influencer’ 😆.

Here is the link for those interested, the videos probably fill in any gaps that you don’t already know:

https://www.youtube.com/@BriKinsella

I intend to jog/walk/whatever I can of the Great North 10k on 7th July to raise money for Newcastle Hospital’s Oesophagoose charity. Details contained in the link below:

https://www.justgiving.com/page/brian-kinsella-1718303300899