Seeing the World

April doesn’t feel too long ago.  The last time I saw a football match.  But from that footballing perspective summer has been and gone and the new season is here.

Today is my first game.  The boys in blue started two weeks back.  Chris clinging onto a Twitter feed to keep in touch.  Then a midweek game in the League Cup, catching up with scores from 39,000 feet now that wifi in the air is a thing.  And the first away game last week.  The excitement of a first half lead being reported.

I’m excited.  Not because I’ve got a 19 day south west USA trip to plan a route for.  But because Oldham Athletic take on Wigan today.

Quite why the excitement levels are so high I don’t know.  Played 3 Lost 3 is the current form guide.  At least they’ve scored goals this season, I suppose that’s promising.

Maybe I’m just happy to get back in the old Saturday routine.  Collect Chris.  Wetherspoons breakfast.  Matchday.  Toby Carvery tea.

It’s a brief return to normality.  Sometimes that can be as much fun as the exotic travel.  Even if defeat is the usual outcome.

Hotel Price Shocker!

It was a bit of a battle.  I think the highest fare I was quoted was £13,000 for two tickets.  Despite my spendthrift lifestyle these days I can’t justify that.  Then it happened.  €3,600 for two Dublin to Vegas fares including three weeks decent sized car hire.

A little bit of fiddling with the routing was needed as the supposed business class fare included economy tickets from Philadelphia to Vegas.  Dublin to Heathrow to Vegas cost an extra €21.  Booked.  Switching the return route via Chicago back to Dublin ensured a more timely landing in Dublin.  Clicked it.  Booked it.

It’s the one part of the world I wanted to return to.  Different hotels.  Perhaps different parts of the same national parks.  And the exceptional – Grand Canyon.  I’ve just got to see it again.  Hopefully both north and south sides.

Vegas doesn’t really do it for me.  Perhaps I’ll slam £250 on number 36 and see what happens.  I’d have loved to say a grand, but I’m not wild enough.  But for me it’s Death Valley, Monument Valley, Grand Canyon, Zion and more.  The most exceptional scenery I’ve ever encountered.

Yes, I’ve still got to book flights to and from Dublin from the English north.  The route needs putting in place – hotel costs seem to be a third higher than they were three years ago.  Thanks Sterling.  But hopefully a more relaxed approach to the schedule, a mini-break at the end, and new visions of the same magnificence that I’ve done before.

Relaxation between now and then might be important!

Finding Cheap Flights

For my shorter European jaunts, this has been easy enough.  Skyscanner.  Type in “UK” to “Everywhere” either for specific dates or preferably calendar month and the choices come flooding out.  If I like one, I’ll  head straight to topcashback and the click through to book directly with the airline.

With long haul business class seats this tends not to cut the mustard.  There’s less flexibility in the search parameters.  Our £700+ a head saving on our Chile tickets nearly didn’t happen.  I switched the search to Google Flights software but finding the right start country was like looking for a needle in a haystack.  In the end I asked the question on the British Airways section of the Flyertalk forum.  One person replied “Italy” and sure enough every airport in Italy was offering a third off the fare I’d have paid had I started in Manchester, London, or even Madrid.  The Madrid irony being that to fly from Madrid to Santiago was over £2,000 and to fly from Milan to Madrid to Santiago was £1,300.  Exactly the same plane.

Why?  Not really sure.  Vague talk about new markets, supply and demand.  It strikes me as something of a screwed up market place with no environmental considerations.  Me neither.  I took cheap, flew more, and the extra flights got me airline status too.

With the USA, Dublin appears to be the standard “cheap” business ticket.  But this seems to be double the price paid three years ago.  Earlier this year Manchester of all places started throwing out cheap business class fares to any destination east of the Rocky Mountains.  Virgin, Delta and American Airlines playing a game that British Airways refused to join in.

For Australia and New Zealand starting in Scandinavia can be cheap.  What costs £4,000 out of Manchester or London is typically £2,000 from Norway, Sweden or Finland.  £1,600 in two recent sales (damn, missed those).  Helsinki for me as I head to the Ashes.

And then there’s the difference in quality of business class seat to consider.  These can vary by plane within the same airline but in my limited experience I’d rank Iberia (A340) and American Airlines (A330) ahead of BA (upper deck 747) and LATAM 787.  I’m looking forward to Qatar who apparently lead the field.  Virgin’s posh seat is meant to be right up there too.  Not quite as good as BA first I’m told.  Which in turn is taught a lesson by Emirates!

My challenge today is to find cheap west coast USA tickets.  Manchester to Oakland (near San Francisco) was a sweet spot a few weeks ago, but it’s gone.  Dublin fares are ok, £2,000 less than many UK fares, but still much more expensive than they have been in the past.  Turkish Airlines are offering decent value, but the 32 hour flying time via Istanbul is more than I’m prepared to submit myself to.

Once I find the bargain I want I’ll then need to cost up the time, effort and risk of getting to the bargain starting point.  Dublin is easy.  Numerous flight options and an overnight airport stay make it a route where, if fog descends, I can most likely get there with a late dash to Holyhead for the ferry or a different airport.  My Avios stash may come in useful to save on last minute fares.  My risks with Milan and Helsinki (when I go to Australia) are a little bigger.

That risk being that I turn up late for the centrepiece flight and lose the whole booking!

The Aches and Pains of Travel Appear to be Easing

It’s now five days since arriving back in the UK.  Six days since the monster thirteen hour flight ended.

My body has suffered a hit.  Whether that’s from the flying or just the energy spent exploring Chile, I don’t know.  Probably both.

Despite the picture, multiple lower back pains are my main issue.  A return of the right leg sciatica too.  It’s been an occasional visitor since moreorless disappearing when the afatinib pills shrunk the pesky tumours but has been much more prevalent in recent nights.  Amytriptoline tends to treat it well, but also gives me a fuzziness in the first hour after waking, despite having extended my sleep.

The exceptionally tight hamstrings started easing a couple of days ago.  It’s amazing how difficult these made putting on socks.  Yesterday afternoon saw the slow recovery from the backache improve dramatically.  No anti inflammatory tablets last night.  First time in a couple of weeks.

I’m yet to book the next trip.  The plan is more flying, driving and sightseeing.  I’m not ready for a sunbed yet.  There’s still a world to explore.  Somehow I need to build in more rest though.  It goes against the grain.

Maybe I’ll need to pay a bit more for a resort hotel that’ll pamper me a little while being located well enough to visit things too.

All thinking out loud for now.

I’ve Stopped Managing My Finances

My historic financial planning strategy has been save before you spend.  Meticulously tracking my funds as they vanish into pensions, share schemes and savings accounts before leaving enough left over to pay the bills, watch the football and book a holiday.

I’ve been the master it all, overseeing everything.  Moving funds on the day they mature to maximise interest returns.  Making sure I never end up with an account paying 0.05%!

This has all changed since redundancy.  I’m still a prudent spender.  I like a bargain.  But my income is a fraction of what it was.

In the past I had more coming in than going out.  Now I run at a deficit which, while I pursue business class flying, will only continue.

Dave Stringer Plc is operating at a loss.  And I don’t actually care!  Yes, I’ll move the cash from savings account and clear the credit card bills in full.  I’ll ensure I don’t pay interest or overdraft fees.  But, until that redundancy balance has virtually gone I really won’t care.

The current plan is for it to run out within five and a half years.  If I’m still alive I can look at drawing pension, claiming housing benefit or possibly part time work <shudder>.  All the exciting trips will be done by that stage.  I won’t have the means for any more and will be living a much more frugal existence.

But then the rule book says I won’t last five years anyway.  And while I’m happy going a little bit mad for the first time ever, there’s still that bit of me that thinks the rule book might not be right.  In that case, sensible Dave will return to play and a more cautious approach to spending will take over.

For now though, I don’t give a flying …

The Man Who Keeps Ringing to Check I’m Still Alive

The letter is quite clear.  No food in the four hours prior to your scan.  Two slices of reheated left over pizza at 11.30am then.  No problem.

Then the man came to take away my shiny BMW for repair, leaving me with a less shiny Corsa.  And no petrol.

So I commenced my trip to Hudersfield world of scanners with a visit to the local Morrisons petrol station.  £6 of petrol.  They’re getting this thing back with an empty tank.

As I went to pay I spotted the Revels.  All shiny packeted and 82p off.  And, without thinking, I paid for them.

With even less thought, I scoffed the lot on the way to the hospital.  Not for a moment did I consider this to be a meal.

Even as I went through the polo mint CT scanner, holding my breath on request, trousers halfway down my legs allowing the machine a clear view of my pelvis, I thought nothing of it.

As the scan drew to an eventual close, one member of staff asked me what I’d had for lunch, as they could see it on the scan.  “Pepperoni Pizza a good four hours ago” I replied.  She didn’t look convinced.

It wasn’t until I got into the car and saw the empty Revels packet that I realised what had been seen.  Imagine the series of brown dots scattered around my insides and what the radiologist is going to make of things when the report gets written.

If they match cancer clusters Oncobabe is going to give me no more than a month to live.

Not my smartest moment.

Midnight Call

I’m suddenly wide awake.  A visit to the gents essential, an experience enjoyed by many middle aged men.

The room is stuffy.  I stretch my legs out of bed trying to decide if the floor is cold tiles or welcoming carpet.  But there’s pain in my hips and my thighs.  The stretch is slow progress until my feet eventually hit carpet.  I realise that I’m not in a hotel but in my bedroom at home.

I take more than a moment to stand.  It hurts.  I’m thirsty. And grab a glass before heading to the bathroom.  Each step hurts a little more.  Not agonising jabbing pain.  But pain nonetheless.

Aftee doing what I need to do I return to my room and open the window.  A welcome draught  blows in.  I reach for my phone and check the time, expecting it to be 4am.  It’s a little after midnight and I’m now wide awake after the deepest of two hour sleeps.  Uncertain as to how I will get back to slumber.

I reach for the paracetamol and take two.  No memory of when I last took them but hoping it was over four hours ago.  Better than the emergency tramadol for this current lower level of pain.

I struggle back into bed, lie down and curse jet lag.  Curse the cancer that’s caused my bone pains and plans to kill me.  Curse the Bell’s palsy eye pain that’s heading towards a full and unpleasant year and slurred my speech, reshape D my nasal passages and damaged my hearing for so long.

Yet, oddly, I still feel happy.  I’m a physical wreck, in pain, looking down the barrel of a gun,  I’ve no wish to die just yet.  Despite the various frustrations my body is enduring other elements of life feel calm, relaxed from drama.  The crises of the past long gone.

I wonder about cures for the incurable.  DNA mapping?  proton therapy?  Being in the 2% who report no cancer after a year on osiminertinib.  Nobody seems to know how many are still taking afatinib six years after starting.  But some are.  Even if most are long dead.

A giggle as my desire for extended life will screw me financially.  And deny my kids a decent house deposit.  Worse still, bring an end to business class long haul flights.

I’d better sleep.  They’re towing my car away in the morning to repair some damage caused by a third party who doesn’t have the balls to admit to it.  £100 excess.  And then an afternoon CT scan to establish the exact nature of my pains.  As oncobabe doesn’t believe the cancer is back.

Result in three weeks.  Slow.

Hectic Return From Holiday Activity

Well sort of.  I woke up at 12.30pm and caught up on the last four episodes of Game of Thrones.

I’ve scanned prices for a possible USA West Coast trip next month.  Posh flights are expensive.  Dublin the likely starting point.

And my suitcase clear out appears to have knocked around 5kg off the amount we lugged around Chile.  A 13kg load will be much more palatable.

Then onto the finances.  National Savings have finally agreed I exist and I’ve got my account online.  A large chunk of what’s left of the redundancy pay transferred over, so I’m now expecting an average of 1-2 wins every month.

I’m feeling lucky because I’ve just won £100 in my union’s monthly prize draw.  Fingers crossed an NS&I £million is due in October’s draw.

The Great Suitcase Clearout – Starts Soon