One week on from my last postcard to Newcastle Herald readers and I am sitting at another stone bench top, this time a lovely country house in Bredbury, on the outskirts of Manchester, in England.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Today is the day my football-loving daughters and I have been waiting for, for months. We have Premier League tickets for Manchester United, the club I have followed since I was six years old, against Crystal Palace. Although I am still in quite a bit of pain and discomfort from the ribs I bruised nine days ago in a fall off a narrowboat on the river Thames, I cannot wait.
To be among 73,000 fans inside one of the world's most famous football grounds, Old Trafford, where I was once a standing regular (including going to every single home and away match one season) is super exciting for us all. It's a ground where some of the sport's greatest players like George Best, Cristiano Ronaldo, Bobby Charlton, Eric Cantona and David Beckham once regularly graced the turf.
I hope we win, but I'm worried about cheering goals as every sharp movement, intake of breath, sneeze or laugh, is agony!
This home is the fourth and final of our swap houses of our England trip. When planning this 24-day trip to Europe, I quickly realised that, aside from flights, accommodation would be the greatest cost, especially as a single Dad travelling with two teen daughters is not the easiest combination to find rooms for. So, about five months ago I started working with LoveHomeSwap.com and homeexchange.com to try to secure swap houses across England.
All the homes we've stayed in have been excellent. The 1792 Bury St Edmunds cottage where I recuperated immediately after my boating accident provided a real balm and we got to see a little of the ancient Abbey ruins and historic town with local guide Terry O'Donoghue. Over a thousand years, Bury St Edmunds has seen more than its fair share of battles, beheadings, persecution and the coming and going of great wealth. It is a gripping story.
After that, we had two days by the English seaside, staying in a three-bedroom chalet on the beach at Pevensey Bay, in East Sussex. It wasn't the best weather but we enjoyed beach walks and takeaway fish and chips, including the tastiest cod ever.
On the second day, the owner, artist Donna Christman, took me for a local tour while her 17-year-old daughter Elsa escorted my teen girls to the shops and Starbucks, an outlet for which they have an incurable and quite baffling obsession. It was perfect for them to have some same-age company and for me not to worry about entertaining them for a few hours.
Now, we are in the home of a former professional footballer, Joe Thompson, and his wife Chantelle. Chatting with Joe on arrival yesterday we discovered an extraordinary life story, beginning with him being recruited to the Manchester United youth system at nine, before being released at 16, then spells playing for English football league clubs Bury, Tranmere Rovers and Rochdale.
Joe's career was interrupted at 23 by lymphatic cancer and ultimately, sadly ended, in 2019, by a second bout of the life threatening illness. Having survived cancer twice but lost his career doing what he loved, Joe is now a mentor to young players across the country and a motivational speaker.
It's the stories behind the homes we are staying in that make house swapping a much richer and yet much cheaper form of accommodation than hotels or even Airbnbs, which are often anodyne spaces.
My travails with the English health system continued last week. The scene at Emergency at West Suffolk hospital, a small regional facility, on Monday, were shocking. At least 50 people waiting, and a wait time of up to three hours to be triaged. With my insurers TID (NIB) nearly constantly on my back, and with seemingly no idea or understanding of the situation in England or what it is like travelling as a single parent responsible for two kids, I have had no alternative but to go private to see a GP, get a referral for an X-ray and a "fit-to-fly" letter from them and get an X-ray done, privately.
The cost is close to $1000 and the insurers have stated they do not cover private treatment, in spite of demanding I have the X-ray done, because there is a reciprocal health agreement with the UK. Go figure.
Having said all that, our experience of the train system since I last wrote, in spite of the blanket strike that is on today and the overtime ban that was in place yesterday, has been really positive, with all trains running on time and friendly service from ticket collectors and guards. It reminds me how much the Australian east coast could benefit from a fast, efficient rail service.
We still have to see if the hangover from today's full-day strike will affect our journey tomorrow across country to Sheffield, and down to Bedford (north of London) before we'll need to take a $100 taxi ride to Luton Airport, to avoid long waits for onward travel and a replacement bus service.
From Luton airport we fly to Santorini, for six nights of sun and relaxation.
Postscript: United lost 1-0 in constant drizzle, an inept and toothless performance.
