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This was it, finally, after months of planning, injections, packing and emotional goodbyes our dream was finally starting. It was the end of an era and the beginning of an exciting adventure of a lifetime us…..
Before the trip - September/Oct 2011
September 30th and the countdown is on. As of this date both Nick and I are officially unemployed, such a scary thought. It was an emotional day today, every little job reminded me that this would be the last time I would be doing it. Although it was the end of an era it was the start of something new for all of us. Sue, my boss, had bought me a solid silver St Christopher necklace, it was beautiful. My vision was blurred with tears on the ride home from work on my bike. There was still 101 jobs to be done before we could even think about sitting down and relaxing. There were rucksacks to pack and final checks to be made. We must have repacked a hundred times. It’s incredibly difficult to know what to pack when you haven’t had to survive with only the contents of your rucksack. Being a typical girl I have A LOT of clothes so trying to choose what was essential was a difficult task. I settled for the following:
4 x pairs of clean socks
2 x pairs of flight socks
5 x pairs of clean underwear
1 x bikini
1 x pair khaki shorts
1 x cotton skirt
2 x cotton vest tops
1 x cotton t shirt
1 x jumper
1 x light woollen cardigan
1 x light black cotton cardigan
1 x pair of cotton trousers
1 x pair of skinny jeans
1 x pair of sturdy boots
1 x pair of flip flops
1 x pair of trainers
1 x large cotton scarf (to wrap up clothes , cover my head in temples and mosques, wear as a sarong or to protect my head from the sun once it was shaved)
Nick and I both decided to leave our wedding rings and jewellery with my Mum for safe keeping. I was only taking the body jewellery and surgical steel earrings that I wore everyday plus some spares should I need to replace anything. Nick only wore the plug in his ear and took a couple of spares.
Today was our leaving party and also the same day we would be handing over our house back to the Land lady. It was a manic 24 hours making hundreds of sandwiches with all different fillings and on all different types of bread and cut into triangles of course! Triangle sandwiches seem to taste better. Mum cooked a couple of whole chickens and we asked everyone to bring something with them. The spread on the table was pretty impressive, we had sandwiches, cakes, cupcakes, crisps, sausage rolls, pastries, 2 different types of soup, chicken, bread rolls, prawns, sweets and biscuits. Nick and I had to test the giant bouncy twister game before anyone arrived. We filled the place with colourful paper décor and blew up 100 globe balloons which we thought would be fitting given the reason for the party. It wasn’t long before the guests started piling in. One of the girls painted the kids faces and the bouncy twister kept both the kids and the adults entertained. We had a fantastic turn out and it was lovely to be able to have the chance to say goodbye to people we knew we weren’t going to see before we left. The afternoon was over quicker than we wanted and before long we were stood in an empty room littered with used paper cups, plates and trails of coloured paper decorations and popped balloons.
It wasn’t long after the clear up we met Carole, our landlady at our little house on the estate. It seemed so empty without or furniture and belongings in there. We said our goodbyes, handed over the keys and closed the front door behind us for the last time.
Today I was going to shave my head for Charity. There had been a big run up to the event including an article in the Guernsey Press and an interview on BBC radio Guernsey with Andrew Hislop. I had arranged a pre-birthday lunch for my Mum at La Grande Mare hotel because I wanted to have a big celebration with the family since it would be the last birthday we would be celebrating with her for a long time. Nick and I went up in the morning and decorated the table with lots of pink decorations. We had organized a cat shaped birthday cake for her for today and another one for her actual birthday on the 13th October which was to be a small gathering. Lunch was great and the turnout was better than I expected. Just as long as she had a great day nothing else mattered. She had asked if I could keep my long hair for her birthday lunch and then shave it off after that which I agreed to. Once all the photos had been taken, the cake had been cut and everyone had said their goodbyes it was time to make our way down to the Yacht Club for the main event!
A few of us arrived early so we could put out all the chairs, a couple of donation boxes and quickly put up a sign directing people to the right room. Head shaving equipment complete with elastic bands and a grip and seal bag was ready and waiting at the front of the room along with the laptop so our good friend Elise could do a video call on Skype from New Zealand. She didn’t want to miss it so she was prepared to get up in the early hours to watch. There was a slow trickle of guests coming through at the start and shortly after the reporters from the Guernsey Press arrived more and more people started coming in until all the chairs were full and people were standing on either sides of the room eagerly waiting with cameras. I sat down outside the room with one of the reporters and gave a quick interview before the event.
As I sat down in the chair in front of all those faces I didn’t feel nervous like I expected I would. I think it might have been because shaving my head was always something I had wanted to do. I also knew that my hair would be donated to The Little Princess Trust and somewhere out there a child or a teenager would have a fantastic wig made out of real hair which could be styled and brushed. I knew the money being raised, no matter what the amount was at the time would be going to three worthy charities. I heard the head shavers buzzing and I was temporarily blinded by all the camera flashes going off simultaneously. Having never had an encounter with head shavers before it was a strange sensation for me having with clippers run over my head. The photographer from the press would stop Nick and my brother Bo at various intervals so they could take photos at every stage. There were gasps from the audience when I turned my head to show them one half bald and the other half with my long blonde hair still attached. Shaving my head was a long process, perhaps it was a combination of the thickness and the fact we were shaving it right down to grade 0 to try and preserve as much hair as we could for the donation. The boys carefully collected the hair and bundled it up in elastic bands so we could send it off. As soon as they had finished I ran my hand over my freshly shaved head. It felt great, I felt great and I was so happy I had done it. My Mum rushed over to hug me and as she held me in her arms she whispered “I’m so proud of you” in my ear. I felt an instant lump in my throat but I held it together while people had their photos taken with me and we said our final goodbyes to some of the family members. Once we had got home we started to count all the notes and change from the donation boxes and to our surprise we had managed to raise just shy of £1000. I was so happy!
I gave an interview with Jenny Kendall-Tobias from BBC Radio Guernsey as a follow up to my previous interview with Andrew Hislop before the event. She was lovely and made me feel very comfortable as for some reason I was more nervous about sitting and talking to her on the radio than I was about losing my hair. I found the next few days of the general public’s reaction to my shaved head quite interesting. My brother and I had gone to get an Indian Takeaway from our local and I think virtually everyone in the restaurant area was staring as soon as I entered. The poor guy serving behind the counter must have been nervous because he was trying to make very shaky small talk, stumbling over his words. I found I was followed around in shops and given my change at arm’s length or a considerable distance. I don’t know if it was because people were unsure or they thought I was diseased but it was quite unnerving sometimes. However, the best thing about having no hair means no more washing, conditioning, drying or styling! No more afro bed hair to deal with in the morning or wispy bits blowing in your face or sticking to your lip gloss. It was heaven and I loved my new hairstyle. The day I posted off my hair to The Little Princess Trust was so comical. I had to write “Human Hair” on the customs label before sending it recorded mail. The lady behind the counter had a double take when she read the label and looked up at my shiny head.
We were now living at Nicks Mum’s house in one of the spare bedrooms. We repacked our bags several times while we were waiting for the 14th October to come round. The bunker we rented down at L’ancresse was now full of our cars. It was a tight squeeze getting the 4x4 through the main doors. We were now officially without a home or transport! On the evening of the 13th it was my Mums birthday. I had organized another smaller cake for her in a puffin design from my very good friend/adoptive Mummy Mandy Hunnisett. My Mum’s favourite birds are puffins so we thought that would be the best design to go for. We had sent a balloon delivery to her work and we had her cards and presents waiting for her when she got home. Nicks Mum popped in to wish her a happy birthday and my brother and Leah came down to say their goodbyes to us. We were on a really early flight in the morning so we thought it would be wise to say our goodbyes then. It was one of the hardest things to say goodbye to my little brother. I think because we have been through so much together as we were growing up we have developed such a strong bond. I knew the moment I hugged him I would cry and as predicted the tears were there straight away. I wanted to remember the last time I hugged my brother so I held on to him for a while and soaked his t shirt with my tears. Once they had both gone I felt a sudden sadness and a slight tinge of regret. I went for my last bike ride on my beloved Pablo before putting him in the garage with strict instructions for my Mum to ride him while I was away. I left my helmet and riding gloves for her. I went for my last run along the same route I had taken for many months. Our time in Guernsey was slowly coming to a close.
The morning of the 14th came round so fast. Before we knew it the alarm was going off and I was up and making our porridge. My Mum came round early before heading off to work to say goodbye. Even though she had told me not to make her cry just looking at her, knowing this was the last time I would be seeing her for a long time made me instantly burst into tears and she followed. Our goodbye was quick as time was not on her side and before I knew it she was reversing back out of the driveway. I watched her car leave from the lounge window. We put our rucksacks in the car and made sure we did all the final checks. Paperwork and tickets being the most important thing. All the cameras, the laptop and phones had been charged the night before and we had to make sure we actually packed the chargers! Nicks sister Dani came to the airport with us and his Mum drove. Janine, my best friend since school met us at the airport. We had just enough time to have our photo taken in one of the booths and a quick coffee before we were being called to board our flight to Gatwick Airport in London. The hugs and kisses from everyone was all a manic blur or tears and emotion. By the time we had made it through security and sat down waiting for our flight to board my eyes were all red and puffy from crying so much. I hated crying in public but this was an exception! It wasn’t long before we were boarding the little plane to the mainland. I watched out of the window as our little Island of Guernsey, our home, grew smaller and smaller as we disappeared into the clouds.
We arrived in London after a short flight and after collecting our bags from the baggage reclaim carousel we made our way down to the hire car depot to pick up our little Ford Ka. We were pointed in the direction of a tiny silver hatchback, barely big enough to fit our rucksacks but it was ideal for what we needed. After fishing the satnav out of our bag we were on our way to my Dad’s house in Stowmarket where we were to spend the rest of the week with the family.
It was an emotional reunion as I don’t see that side of my family very often. Although we had nothing in particular planned it was great to be able to spent time in a family environment just being with the people we love. The weather was a bit on the cold side, colder than Guernsey. We only had a few items of warm clothes as our first stop was Sri Lanka we didn’t need lots of jumpers and woollen socks. I managed to find a pair of cheap boots from a charity shop which came in handy for the duration of our stay in the UK. We stayed with my Grandma in her cottage in Debenham where I lived before we moved to Guernsey in 1994. I spent a couple of days just walking round the area. Some of it hasn’t changed a bit, especially the Tudor style buildings that line either side of the main street. The school has changed completely and so has the recreational area where we used to play as children. Nick and I made our pilgrimage to the old house where we used to live at number 86, Gardeners Road. It brings back mixed memories and emotions for me. It still looks the same, maybe a few small changes. The hedges are a little bigger in the front and they have taken down the rose bush that used to sit at the side of the house. I always wonder what the occupants of the house must think when strange people stand outside taking photos of their house as its not the first, nor the last time I have stood there. It would be the first place I would want to drive past when I was a child on one of my visits to my Dad during the school holidays. Even then it was a bittersweet experience seeing the family home but knowing that someone else now lived there.
In the evenings leading up to D day I went out for a run while my step brother Max would ride his bike beside me or I would take a run around the village and back to my Grandmas house. Afterwards we would sit and talk for hours or watch cop programmes on TV, part of me didn’t want to leave this safe environment. Her cottage is 400 years old, some of the rooms and walls are crooked. You have to duck your head when going through the many doorways as the beams are so low but there was no other place on earth I would have rather been at that point in time. There is something about the cottage and its surroundings that is soothing for the soul. Nick and I both sleep so well when we are there. I think its a combination of the complete peace and quiet and the fresh air. Grandma is always up at the crack of dawn and even in her eighties she is still going strong, digging in her vegetable patch at god knows what time in the morning to fetch vegetables for dinner. She is an amazing lady.
Time, like usual passed far too quickly and before we knew it the 21st October had come round. The day before we had said our goodbyes to my Step Mum Sophie and the kids and posted back a few things to Guernsey that we knew we wouldn’t need. Dad came round in the morning to say his goodbyes. We packed our rucksacks in our hire car and gave my Dad and my Grandma one last hug and a kiss before we headed off down Great Back Lane on our way to Heathrow Airport.
We had to stop on the way to the airport to fill up with fuel before we dropped the hire car back off to the depot. As usual we were way too early for our flight but then again its better than being way too late. Coffee and bananas kept us going while we were waiting to board our flight to Columbo in Sri Lanka. A few hours later we were finally sat on board the plane waiting to take off. This was it, finally, after months of planning, injections, packing and emotional goodbyes our dream was finally starting. It was the end of an era and the beginning of an exciting adventure of a lifetime us
As soon as we quit our jobs we both felt the time going by so quickly. It was a mad rush to finish packing up the rest of our belongings before handing over our keys to our Landlady. There was something liberating about being jobless and homeless!
