My last Paperchase diary is still in pretty impressive shape when you consider it was in active use for three-quarters of thhe year. At first, I couldn’t understand why I didn’t write anything in it until April 1; then I remembered we’d spent a second winter in Albufeira and didn’t return until the end of March.
For years, my youngest daughter bought me a Paperchase diary for Christmas. These diaries cost a little more, but with the nice chunky ringbinder and good-quality paper, they are heads and shoulders above all others in terms of design and durability. Despite its longevity, my 2018 diary still looks as good as new.
April
My first entry on 1 April suggests I was immediately in full-on ‘back at home’ mode. I certainly got plenty done – a seven-mile run, work emails, blog notes, lentil bolognaise and ironing curtains.
It’s fascinating to revisit what was going on nearly seven years ago. Cryptic notes like ‘training – went terribly’ make me wish I’d journalled properly. Though despite that entry, I went to a Lliswerry Runners training session the very next day and even took part in the Kymin Dash the following weekend (a dismal performance).
I failed to be accepted on upwork.com though I didn’t note down why – perhaps they didn’t tell me? One entry which made me laugh was: ‘Pick up novel again. NO, NO, NO! Scared!’
While we were wintering in Albufeira, my middle daughter bought a renovation property so much of this month was spent sourcing and liasing with various tradesmen, including the memorable Panos – a Greek plumber who couldn’t understand why we objected to him fitting a radiator across a low-level window and demonstrated a serious level of mansplaining.
Other April highlights included joining a group to litter-pick along the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal, taking up yoga and helping my youngest daughter move to a new flat in Cardiff.
May 2018
I have no idea what I was up to in May. I either lost my diary or took off to a place where personal possessions weren’t allowed. The only entries are a note to say Panos was starting work and a reminder to pay my credit card (noting that the balance was large!). I have checked Amazon Photos to see if we were off on a world cruise but it appears not.
June 2018
June starts in a similarly mysterious way: no diary entries.
It all becomes clear on June 12 when I write at the top of the page ‘I found my diary again!’ The previous day, I’d been at A&E getting stitches after a jagged tile first cut through a black sack – and then my leg.
The highlight of the month was a weekend trip to London to see West End Live with my eldest daughter. After hours meandering around Covent Garden, we headed to our central hotel where free wine and nibbles were offered to guests from 7pm. It was a thrill to see the wonderful Ruthie Henshall performing several numbers as Roxie Hart in Chicago and being interviewed afterwards. Will Young was another star on the stage that weekend. It’s hard to believe this event was – and remains – absolutely free.
Bafflingly, on June 18, I posted ‘Piano – practise A# and G# chords’. As I have no recollection of ever attempting to learn the piano, this was clearly a shortlived pursuit.
Towards the end of the month, after lots of hiking, running and blogging, it seems to have occurred to me that we were planning to sell the house very soon. On June 25, I write, ‘Go around every room and list what needs to be done.’
The month ends with a parkrun time of 28 minutes and 14 seconds, which I noted was ‘terrible’ (I’d be delighted with anything under 30 minutes nowadays).
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July 2018
Just looking at my numerous July entries makes me feel exhausted. I was still formatting ebooks (Harri’s hiking guidebooks) and continually blogging. Much time was spent at the renovation property decorating – and at the local tip! On July 9, I wrote (in capitals) that it TOOK ALL DAY to empty an old bath I’d planted with Russian vine and other plants several years ago.
Annoyingly, as it turns out, we were also arranging to have four new windows fitted before we sold our house (a complete waste of money).
Back in the summer of 2018, I seemed to be forever ironing – or not ironing at all and simply moving the task to another day. Either is possible.
My middle granddaughter had her end of primary school concert this month – and I remember being close to tears as she sang ‘Nos Da’, a beautiful Welsh lullaby, with a friend. The following day I ran to parkrun at Tredegar House and managed a more respectable 27 minutes 36 seconds.
The start of the school holidays meant there was now some babysitting inbetween the decorating, garden clearing and blogging. One particularly lovely day was a trip to Usk Castle with my granddaughters.
August 2018
Our last summer in Wales was one of the best I can remember weatherwise, so Harri and I were constantly off hiking when he wasn’t working. On 5 August, we walked in the Kenfig area, a place Nick Davison has fictionalised as Skerrig Mawr in his recent novel of the same name (read my interview with Nick).
Two days later, I completed the last of the GLCL road race series though I don’t record where it took place (I would go on to win third prize in my age group for the second year running). These old diaries certainly highlight what was important in my life back then and I’d say running was right up there with family, friends and earning a living (though paid work didn’t seem to feature much in 2018).
Harri and I enjoyed a long weekend in west Wales with my eldest and her daughters, and we ran the delightful Colby parkrun.
One thing that’s notable is that I was cooking a lot of vegan food in 2018, e.g. bolognaise sauce, lentil dishes, curries, etc. I’ve never been vegan but my middle daughter was still living with us at the time so, as I was out a lot, I think it was easier for us to all eat the same meals.
I did a speedy parkrun – 26 minutes 27 seconds – on August 25 and then it was back to painting and decorating; by now I was focusing on our own soon-to-be-the-market home. Somehow, that same week I also found time to expertly wallpaper a feature wall in my eldest daughter’s house.
All the references to new windows (my house and my daughter’s) make me sad as our lovely window salesman Phil, whom we originally met while he was out walking his dog, died suddenly in April 2019.
September 2018
Things really start happening this month as we finally put our house on the market with Purplebricks (a decision which came back to bite us in the proverbial). I finished renovating the main bedroom, now vacated by middle daughter, and set about staging the house, which involved begging and borrowing furniture and cushions. There was no mattress on the bed as my daughter had taken it with her! Inbetween, I was still working on my daughter’s house and running regularly. Looking back, I have no idea where all that energy came from!
On September 4, I fulfilled a longtime ambition to take part in a three-generation relay. As the slowest of the three of us, I ran the first two-mile lap of the Rose Inn Relay, followed by my 13-year-old granddaughter and finally my middle daughter. Thankfully, those two managed some overtaking and pulled our trio back into a half-decent position. It was a lovely evening and one which I’ll never forget.
I went shopping with my youngest for Doc Martens (for her birthday) then went home to tackle more painting. Notes like ‘take back axe’ remind me just how crazy the run-up to us leaving for Portugal actually was – though for the life of me I cannot remember what I actually needed the axe for. Probably felling vegetation in my middle daughter’s garden!
On September 14, I went to a school reunion at the Potter’s Bar in Newport city centre. From memory, it wasn’t one of the better ones (our friendship group had started getting together most years from our late 40s). There were no seats available and the Potters is always so busy (although great for a good pub meal).
While all this was going on, we were slowly getting rid of almost all our belongings on FreeCycle or donating them to the local charity shop. Oh, and getting a new front door and a new laptop and sorting out the garage roof – and getting a new axle fitted on the car. Vegan risotto and hummous featured on the menu. Around all this, I was somehow running and blogging far more regularly than I do now. Truly, my 2018 diary makes me wonder why I get so little done nowadays. Did I actually sleep back then??
October 2018
With D-day – or ‘departure day’ – growing ever closer, the frenetic activity continued.
October 1 marked a house viewing by the couple who eventually bought our house – after a lot of grief and lies. In August 2019, when our house sale finally went through, I wrote a cathartic blog about the experience (changing names of course). When you’re an honest person, as Harri and I are, it’s difficult to get your head around the depths to which some people will sink to get what they want. They sold our former home in 2024, having transformed the interior beyond recognition and left the garden/fences in a terrible state.
Around everything else, I was now editing a novel by a North Wales author … I guess you’d call it developmental editing (I usually focus on line editing). There were a lot of issues with the novel, not least my growing suspicion that the plot might not be entirely fictional, e.g. the protagonist was an arsonist. I provided positive criticism for months on end, however the author failed to address any of the issues I raised after reading numerous drafts. Ultimately, I suggested he find another editor to look at his prose. He has since self-published the novel on Amazon.
Cryptic diary entries include: ‘Boston’s belly’ (Boston is my daughter’s cat). I am at a loss to explain that one.
One thing’s for certain: I was a regular at the local tip. An entry on October 10 says, ‘Tip – mine on way, Elinor’s on way back’.
Another October highlight was going to see an amateur performance of Mamma Mia in Caldicot with my eldest and her daughters. My youngest granddaughter (who shifted to being the middle one in 2023 when her little cousin was born) was mortified when I sang along to hit after hit as instructed to do at the beginning. Abba is most definitely my era.
On October 14, we dismantled our bed which meant we slept on a mattress on the floor for the next month or so. I missed Tuesday’s training that week, noting I was ‘TOO TIRED’.
If working on two properties wasn’t enough, I met an electrician at my eldest daughter’s house to sort out lighting problems. I also had a go at match betting and made about £100 in a month.
On October 24, there was the favourite annual Prosecco Mile. The idea is that every runner gives an estimated time for running a mile on the track before they run and those who are closest win a bottle of prosecco. Watches and devices were not allowed. Elinor and I both won a bottle in 2014. Lliswerry Runners’ AGM followed.
The final weekend of the month saw my eldest and her daughters heading off to Disneyland Paris. I generally used to help feed her cats when she was away, but there’s no mention of me doing so in my diary.
Strangely, I keep on about writing up Spanish blogs, but I think I must referring to a previous hiking holiday in Catalonia as we didn’t go to Spain in 2018.
Halloween was another super busy day when the lack of joined up thinking in the NHS shone through (years of dealing with my late father’s medication, and GP and hospital appointments had left me in despair). A prescription my GP surgery confirmed was issued on 24 August hadn’t turned up at the pharmacy despite the two buildings being practically next to one another. The medical centre’s satellite surgery (several miles away) then claimed I’d picked it up from there on 19 October despite me spending the entire day at my daughter’s house clearing her garden.
November 2018
The first day of the month and I was still attempting – and failing – to locate the missing prescription. My own GP practice confirmed it had been printed but had no idea if my GP had seen or signed it. There are a lot of notes about this saga in my diary, however to summariseL where GP surgeries/pharmacies are concerned, the right hand doesn’t seem to know what the left hand is doing.
I spend the following day with my eldest and my granddaughters but didn’t write down what we actually did! On Sunday, Harri ran the Twm Barlywm Terror alongside my friend Sharon’s partner, Ian. I recall the weather was misty, cold and miserable. Ian beat Harri, which the latter wasn’t too pleased about.
There were days when an A5 diary was just not big enough and 5 November was one of them. There was more chasing up of my prescription (the farce was finally resolved the following day), a charity shop trip, ironing, match betting, time at middle daughter’s house, some Portuguese learning and, amazingly, I fitted in a run!
Looking back, I can see I was trying to see as much of our family and friends as possible. There was another, smaller and more enjoyable, school reunion at the Greyhound Inn, Christchurch where we all sat around a large table and were able to chat. I recall the weather was awful: the kind of night where you’d prefer to be cwtched up on the sofa … if you weren’t leaving the UK in a couple of weeks. Harri’s mother held a birthday party at her home, while I was busy selling off my youngest daughter’s musical equipment, e.g. Dave bought a cube, which I apparently needed to dust beforehand, and Colin bought a guitar.
As we were giving almost all our own belongings away, there were a lot of Freecycle enquiries to manage and arrangements to make for picking up various items, e.g. a giraffe suit elicited a lot of interest and was ultimately given to the pint-sized Chris, a teacher who also took a desk away. Our buyers had already told me they hated gardening, so I dug up several plants for my daughter’s house.
A week before we left the country, Harri’s parents went off to India on holiday. Then, on November 17, I ran my last parkrun as a UK resident. It was emotional and I managed 27 minutes 46 seconds. I don’t note whether this was good or bad.
November 22 marked our final day in our house and my diary was predictably crammed with entries. Today wasn’t the day to prevaricate – everything that was listed has a tick against it. My ex-husband was a tremendous help. Back then, he had a large car and was able to transport things that wouldn’t fit in ours, like our old washing machine. I gave him our Pier dining room table and chairs as a ‘thank you’. We had no idea the house would still belong to us when I came home in the spring.
The following day we left for the Algarve, sailing first to Santander and then spending several days driving through Spain and Portugal. There are very few entries, other than a few estate agent appointments, which proved fruitless and unnecessary as our buyers were just beginning to show their true colours.
December 2018
And so to our new life in the Algarve. We arrived in Albufeira on December 1 when I write ‘Drank too much in Arte Bar!’
I really was obsessed with running back then because, on my very first full day, where was I going? Off for a run. At this point, we were still deluding ourselves that our UK house sale would soon be going through so I was also busily house-hunting and arranging viewings. We viewed several houses in Vale de Telha on the west coast.
There were also major problems with my website, although my 4 December entry, ‘Carry on retrieving content from The Walkers’ Wife’ is intriguing and suggests I know far more about websites than I do.
I went off to Alcantarilha to see a friend’s new flat (pre-renovation), got terribly lost on the way and nearly ended up on the motorway. Some things never change! I complain to GoDaddy about a list of hosting and malware problems (we parted company a few months later) and, in a pique of fury, ‘Cancel GoDaddy Auto Renew’. In better news, we discover the great local garage that we still use today (PJP Autos).
Our first few days in Albufeira were traumatic because, while we were settling into our temporary home, my middle daughter’s beautiful black cat Boston had gone missing from hers. On December 12, after five days, we finally got the good news, ‘Boston is back!!:)’
On the same day at 10pm there was a vote of no confidence in Theresa May (I have no idea why I thought this was notable enough to write down). On December 14, we went for the Arte Bar Christmas meal, which probably meant a lot of drinking.
Now, I’m remembering details about my website. GoDaddy had pretty much lost it, despite only recently accepting my annual fee. Fortunately, a wonderful Yorkshireman John, who I used to work with, read my devastated post on Facebook and offered to help. He was indeed my hero as he was able to resurrect my website – and moved it to a different host.
On December 20, our Scottish friends Nan and Dennis arrived back in Albufeira and, as I noted, I ‘drank too much wine’.
December 22 marks the beginning of a strange chapter in my life. Harri and I were just about to start walking the popular Seven Hanging Valleys waymarked route when we got talking to two complete strangers in the car park. This couple became good friends for the next three-and-a- half years or so – they even spent two Christmases with us – but everything changed early in 2022. I have a good idea why my former friend stopped talking to me – and ultimately blocked me on Facebook – but it’s not for sharing. Despite the way she’s treated me, I won’t betray a confidence.
Christmas Day was quiet with us hiking all day. On December 27, we headed to Messines to finally open a Portuguese bank account (armed with an introduction from a fellow Arte Bar customer).
2018 went out with a bang as we celebrated Hogmanay with our Scottish friends and their relatives in Albufeira. Harri and I left their apartment after 5am, which makes New Year’s Day 2019 our latest/earliest return from a night out ever (well together at least!). We did have fun though; the Scottish certainly know how to have a good time on New Year’s Eve.
I wonder what 2019 had in store for us. We’ll soon find out.
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