After my ideas of pitching up at Riviera Radio or buying a bar in Lanzarote were tabled, and I’d hit pause on event planning and starting over in New Zealand, there were other ideas to ponder:

5) Bristol – Heading West was really the ideal option, I owned a flat there after all, although petrifying because I had no idea where I’d find a 9-6pm where my very specific London experience could apply.  I spoke to a recruitment agency – who interviewed me and offered me a job, with them, not really what I had in mind – and did a fair bit of Googling, printing and scribbling, but it was ever so slightly half hearted.  I didn’t want to get to the stage of realising that I couldn’t go back, going back has always been my failsafe.  So for now, I kept it there, safe in its little box of fantastic memories and the idea that one day, maybe, I’ll go back and it’ll be just the same as it ever was.  In the meanwhile, I sold the flat; I don’t know what I’ll do with the money, it’s certainly not part of my sailing plan fund, not now anyway.  As an aside, I have already started looking at yachts for sale, and concluded I could buy two…. getting ahead of myself, just a tad.

6) My job in America – My company is cross Atlantic, and therefore a natural consideration was to follow my colleagues who have made the transition from London to the land of enormous portions and even bigger personalities.  I browsed the housing market in Chicago, and wanted to cry (why do we pay so much rent in London, and accept it as just the way it is?), and pondered how to broach the conversation with my boss.  Fundamentally though, even though this got the parental “tick”, I wasn’t sure it’d be enough of a change.  For the same reason I rejected the idea of applying for another job in my industry in London; I have it really good where I am now, if I want to stay safe then why move at all?  Plus everyone says that working for an investment bank just isn’t the same as it was back in the day, and I can always come back – why not do something a bit different first?

7) A pub in Bristol – 11 years ago, this was the plan.  All through uni I worked in pubs and bars, working 11-7pm and then 7pm-midnight seven days a week in holidays (placements aside, then I bar worked evenings only), and some days in term time too (Philosophy degree day one: we agreed with the lecturers we’d have lectures Tuesday through Thursday, and Wednesday afternoons were sport) (mine was mixed lacrosse, if you’re curious).  So bar work is in my nature, I also like wine, and pubs, and people.  It would be something I could put all my effort and my heart into and be proud of; at the end of the day step back and look at what I have achieved, and it be more than just an excellent, informative and pristinely put together pdf.  A freehold would be too expensive, but a leasehold – which is what I was in the process of applying for back in 2005 when I was persuaded to give banking a try for three weeks…. – would suit me just fine.  A five year term, 25k buy in, 100 covers, garden, landlord’s residence, somewhere just outside Bristol.  Perfect!  Tick!  Time to buy a car.

And that’s where we were in January, when I accidentally happened upon my dream pub…. little did I know at the time how that was going to turn out and that my licencee coursework would find itself relegated and my sailing books dusted off.

Anyone have a spare set of protractor and dividers?