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The Dream And Other Things.

The Beginning

Home
Living The Dream?
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The Beginning
France - En Passant
Spain - At Last
The End - Perhaps
About Me.
Where I Live Now
Model Railways
Me And My Prostate
Prostate Progress - I
Prostate Progress - II
Prostate Progress - III
Prostate Progress IV
Prostate Progress V
Prostate Progress VI
Information On Spain
Benidorm - Attractions
Benidorm - Caravan Sites
Benidorm - Eating Out
Benidorm - Shopping
Information On Benidorm
Cruise Ship

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Decision time, spring 1990.

The 'About Me' page gives you some idea of who and what I'm about. The time scale there is from childhood to the autumn of 1989.
All previous family decisions had been made for the good of the family as a whole, with regard to future earnings, job security, children's education, housing, etc, etc. You all know what I mean.
I was working in the power industry at the time, winter 1989, at one of the big coal fired power stations, when we became a political subject as Margaret Thatcher decided that our industry was to be privatised.

It had long been our intention to consider Spain as a retirement place when we reached the age of 65. I was now 55 and there was talk of redundancies in the air.
By this time we had done our bit for the family. Kids had finished with university and were making their own way. House wasn't paid for, but whose was? That magical age of 65 for retirement suddenly seemed a lifetime away. Was this opportunity staring us in the face, or a disaster just waiting to happen?
By the spring of 1990 it was put up or shut up time, as the book for voluntary redundancy began to close. Looking back it seems inevitable that we made the decision we did, although what was to decide really. Ten more years at work, or the freedom to have those same ten years doing what we wanted to do.
So, the wheels started turning faster and faster and by the middle of July 1990 I had closed the garden gate for the last time. No job, no house. What we did have was an eight year old Saab car, a twelve foot caravan, a bit of money in the bank after the mortgage had been paid off and a small works pension. Oh, and two pairs of feet just itching to get on with it. First stop Portsmouth for the ferry to Cherbourg and we were well and truly on our way. Bye, bye England.

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