Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Take a journey with me through my first eighteen years. My first nine years were spent in an Essex council house, happiest only when I was up a tree or with my dog. Life was shite for all of us. Dad knew something had to change. He shunted us off as ten‑pound poms to an Australian immigration hostel for two godforsaken summers. A better life, he said. It wasn’t. My parents endured the torment. I went bush. When we shifted to Christchurch, I was glad for them, but I missed the bush, something fierce. Early high school was a disaster for this shy introvert. At fifteen I tried for the priesthood and failed. I got sacked from jobs and didn’t care. I needed to find myself. Then, I met Cynthia.
Take a journey with me through my first eighteen years. My first nine years were spent in an Essex council house, happiest only when I was up a tree or with my dog. Life was shite for all of us. Dad knew something had to change. He shunted us off as ten‑pound poms to an Australian immigration hostel for two godforsaken summers. A better life, he said. It wasn’t. My parents endured the torment. I went bush. When we shifted to Christchurch, I was glad for them, but I missed the bush, something fierce. Early high school was a disaster for this shy introvert. At fifteen I tried for the priesthood and failed. I got sacked from jobs and didn’t care. I needed to find myself. Then, I met Cynthia.