maybe I’ll retire to Scotland…

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Well, this is exactly what I was afraid of. ‘MIGRANTS RUSH TO GET OUR JOBS’, indeed.

Had a very odd experience on the train from York to Durham yesterday, and it’s had me thinking ever since. There was a young man sat opposite my mother and me, and he had a series of long conversations with both his girlfriend and his mother on his mobile telephone.

To the latter he insisted that he hadn’t broken up with his love interest, but that she had decided that they needed to ‘…take a small break‘ from the relationship. When he spoke with the former, he pleaded with her that although he’d been a scoundrel, she was the best thing that ever happened to him and really ending things would be a setback he couldn’t fully accept.

His answer to the whole predicament was that they take that little break from the relationship that he’d mentioned to his mother. At least that’d buy him a bit of time until he figured out what might come next. To his way of thinking, this was the only rational solution.

Despite the fact that we could only hear half of the conversation, my mother and I decided afterwards that the young lady was having none of it and had finally wised up. He wasn’t handling defeat well, at all.

What does any of this have to do with those MIGRANTS taking our jobs? Well, at some point in the conversation, we indicated that we might be going to Scotland. He insisted that he loved it there, and that he’d always thought he might move to Scotland when he retires.

Afterwards, my mother was perplexed at what he thought retirement was going to look like. He was in his early 30s and quite freely admitted that he hadn’t been able to hold a job for more than a decade.

I suppose he’d be angry about those pesky MIGRANTS and their job stealing, but I guess he might need a job first before he can get bent out of shape about it having been stolen from him.

belt tightening in an age of exorbitance

Having tea at the Fairmont Hotel Vier Jahreszeiten
(Hotel Four Seasons)

I’ve got bad news for my readers. The funds have run dry. I do a lot of travelling, so this was bound to happen at some point.

My galavanting has led me down a destructive road. It’ll be resolved, but in the short term, I’ll have to be much more careful with money. Which is a shame if you think about it.

What does every vibrant economy need? People who spend. Spenders.

That’s me. When it comes to spending, I’m the 1%. I think about what I want and then I go earn what I need to get enough dosh to then buy that thing. It’s very economical.

If I don’t anymore want the thing I was saving for, I simply find another thing to spend my money on. Quite conveniently, I never have to search for long. There’s always something I suddenly realise I desperately need. Nearly always.

There’s a financial axiom that you should earn more than you spend. This is certainly my financial philosophy. Now it’s time for me to return to the frugal path.

No more tea at the Four Seasons in the near future.

the tea selection and the inviting fireplace

You say, ‘Let him eat cake‘? You mean cake like this?

a chocolate cake, that I made, and a cheesecake from my favourite bakery

No more trips to Nice for a while.

the roofs over the Niçoise

The funny thing is that as much as I’ve loved all of those trips, I have something even better than the little trinkets and t-shirts that most people buy while travelling. Even better than all of the photos I’ve taken.

I’ve got memories that can never be taken away. People often ask how I can afford to travel so much. Well, travelling’s not so expensive. It really isn’t. I’ll be in London and Manchester and Liverpool in a little over a week, and I’ll stay with friends, when I’m not with my mother oop north. It’ll be fine. I’ve got excellent friends.

So? My news.

I’m skint. It’s happened before. I’ll live.

Will it slow down my bon vivantery? I assure you: it will not.