Where the HELL is Paddy?

Interview with Paddy in BA:

Q. So why did you pick Buenos Aires as a destination for some time out?

Well the wife is from here for one thing. Although to be honest the driving force for the new unemployed me was cost of living but since she has family here it was an easy idea to sell. Latinos are famous for being family centric and the regular 3 hour lunch with relatives is commonplace.

Years back we'd talked about how great it would be to do a few months backpacking so that dream became a reality (link). Quality of life here for an expat is higher than I've experienced anywhere else.

Q. Will you settle down and stay in BA?

I'd highly recommend it as a retirement option but unfortunately, unless you are lucky enough to earn pounds, euros or dollars the local salaries are not that good and your A$peso doesn't go far when you leave Argentina. A ten day trip to Europe would cost several months salary.

Q. So what's the plan and what was the big 'change' you've been waffling on about in recent posts?

Well as the post title suggests I'm not in BA right now and I may not be back.

*Pauses for dramatic effect*

If I'm successful in my quest to find a job I'll be relocating and the missus will follow once I've paved the way so to speak.

Q. So where in the name of jaezuz are you going now?

Right now I'm actually in Houston, Texas waiting for a connecting flight. I'm going to be zipping around a bit for the next few weeks so you'll just have to revisit the blog to see where I am. I'll also be doing a bit of soul searching and reflection so it might even be interesting! ;-)

Q. Do you honestly expect us to keep coming back to read this drivel about your nomadic poncin' around the globe?

Well you've obviously got nothing better to do if you're reading this right now!

Q. Are you going to make a video of yerself doing a silly dance in famous places like yer man Matt Harding and post it on YouTube?

Nope - no silly dance - I have two left feet and about as much rhythm as a goldfish in a bowl of cornflakes.

Have to end the interview here as I have to board a plane (be bored on a plane!) - wish me luck and tune in real soon for next port o' call!

Tags: ..Where the hell is Paddy?, Irish Rover..

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Irish Rover - Part 8

....continued from Irish Rover Part 7 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways (finally bringing you to how I got ended up here in Buenos Aires.

New York was great but I still hadn't found what I was looking for. After a bit of pleading, heaving and pushing for a transfer, a potential work opportunity with the bank I worked for presented itself to move from New York back to London which would put us nearer to at least one family (mine).

After giving notice on our apartment lease, abandoning the wife's application for US residency, buying air tickets, paying for a moving company, the unthinkable happened. A management reshuffle at work meant the transfer was put on hold until further notice. The 'Man from Del Monte' who said yes no longer had the power to say yes and we were left up sh!t creek without a paddle. I was a tad fu(ked off with the corporate machine to say the least.

The exit wheels were already too far in motion so the missus had to head solo to the UK and hopefully I would follow shortly. The movers packed all our stuff and the missus boarded a plane and I ended up having to sleep on a sofa of a good friend waiting for the politics in work to settle down. Any illusions I had about 'the company has your best interests at heart' were dashed. I still feel bitter about the whole way it was handled. I gave the company 110% - they gave me the middle finger up the arse!

If it weren't for the consistent lobbying of my boss back then, I probably would never have made it, but she pushed and pushed until the powers that be finally relented (thank you 'R'). After four months haggling I finally moved back to London in April 2005.

London had changed a lot (for the better) since my time there in the 80's. Irish were no longer third class citizens. Quite the opposite - we were riding the high waves of the Celtic Tiger. We spent two fantastic years spending a lot of time with family and friends and exploring the near and far flung corners of Europe on the Ryanair cattle shuttles.

In June 2007 after much deliberation and consultation I decided to walk away from the company and 'secure' job I'd had for 13 years. No redundancy package - No golden parachute - just me heading off into the sunset for a wee bit of R & R, to be a bum and do this kind of stuff. I needed a break. I needed a sense of purpose.


Is life just about 9am-8pm Mon-Fri? Wait for a bonus that rarely meets expectations? Take conference calls at 10pm? Have that sinking feeling in your stomach on Sunday afternoon - "Oh fuck - work tomorrow!"

A lot of people (most of them have mortgages, kids and debts up to their eyeballs) did and still do think it was an irresponsible move on my behalf. The plan was for this exodus to be for one year sabbatical. So we packed our stuff once more and this time headed to Buenos Aires for some down time. The cost of living is cheap and the missus has family here.

After living the 'life of Reilly' for a year, a little phenomenon known as the global financial crisis has popped up it's ugly head and so my re-entry to the rat race has been somewhat delayed. Now I find myself trapped in a strange but fascinating land with little or no job prospects or earning potential.

Do I regret the choices I've made? - NOT ONE FUCKING BIT!
Do I need to find a job? - unfortunately yes - I didn't get paid the silly bonuses some of these Wall Street shafters pillaged for years - I live a frugal - thrifty lifestyle down here to make ends meet.

What will I do? Where will I go?

WATCH THIS SPACE! - Change be a coming in less than 5 days!

Tags: ..Irish in Buenos Aires, Irish expat in Argentina..

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Irish Rover - Part 7 (almost over!)

....continued from Irish Rover Part 6 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways (Don't worry this series will be done soon - I just need to get it outta my system).

Living in New York was a bit of a challenge as a new arrival. It was exciting to see all the stuff you'd only seen on TV before like the Empire State building, Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, Park Avenue, but there was a cultural barrier to be overcome. Unlike London, Manhattan isn't that big and getting around is pretty easy via public transport but New Yorkers talk to each on public transport? WTF - I was used to the more conservative London tube approach ala - bury your head in a newspaper and above all never make eye contact. New Yorkers will strike up random conversations with strangers and make no attempt to conceal the fact they are leaning over your shoulder to read your newspaper .

I was only there a few weeks when I went to turn the page of the newspaper I was flicking thru on the subway and a guy tapped me on the shoulder and said "hold on buddy - I'm not done yet ...uh ok ... I'm done now - How 'bout those Yankees last night?"

I thought "Huh? - You talking to me? - I see 200 other people here so PLEASE say you're NOT talking to me?" - He was, and I abruptly informed him, I didn't watch baseball or any other weird US sports which immediately shut him up (no easy feat to quieten a yank let me tell you!) although he continued to mutter to himself what I presumed was abuse about my ignorance of US sport.

After a year in Queens, I moved to Manhattans upper east side. Now, finally, I was a true blue New Yorker! Everything you need is a few blocks away - 24 hour deli, pub, supermarket, laundry, cinema, restaurants, police station, subway, park etc. No wonder they're overweight! I used to have to walk 15 minutes to the supermarket in London with my arms dropping off with weight of the groceries. Everything is picked up and/or delivered in NY for minimal charge or effort including laundry, groceries and food. My favourite was the Mexican restaurant, that besides great food also delivered GREAT frozen margaritas.

Bars in NY are open until 4am, so gone were the days of binge drinking as 11pm closing time approached and having to pay a club admission to have a few more drinks. Then there are the illegal but plentiful lock-in bars where you knock on an inconspicuous door and enter after 4am. The subway is open 24 hours which comes in handy assuming you can wake up at the correct stop and a max fare at the time of u$d1.50 lets you take subway all night long from A to B and back to A (been there - done that) .

Warning - Work sometimes interferes with and frowns upon these social activities but is also sometimes responsible for said activities and in some cases has been known to sponsor them.

All cultural differences aside - Good bunch of peeps the New Yorkers! So much so, I ended up staying ten years, got US citizenship, got married and developed a beer gut. I've managed to hang on to those 3 things.

More (but not much) of this drivel to follow.....

Tags: .Irish Rover - Part 7 (almost over!)..

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Irish Rover - Part 6

....continued from Irish Rover Part 5 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways.

I had a great Xmas back in Ireland that year, reconnecting after 3 years with family and friends and Guinness (ah the Guinness and it's after effects!) but I needed to earn some cash and get the necessary paperwork together before I could avail of the lottery green card to get me into the USA. One of my closest friends lived in Liverpool, UK so I headed there in the new year. I figured the home of the Beatles would offer me ample opportunity for work so I could save some funds for the upcoming adventure.

I figured wrong! - 'Strawberry Fields Forever' it was NOT! - More like 'Penny Lane' - After 6 months I had to reluctantly admit defeat on the job search. With the exception of making some great friends and getting to explore the nearby amazing countryside, what a god awful depressing city it was (especially in Winter) - I hope and pray it's improved.

I have one vivid memory of two Liverpudlian lasses beating the holy crap out of each other, over an argument about who was next in the taxi queue. I think it scared me more because I knew they would have kicked the sh!t out of me given half a chance. Ruff-ruff working class city!

I moved down to London (again) and got a job as a temp in a US based bank within a week. It was another 6 months before I got all my paperwork in order that I finally got on a plane (on New Years day) to the USA. The Big Apple - New York City was to be my next home.

I found a tiny (very tiny) studio apartment in Forrest Hills, Queens and with a bit of luck the same US bank hired me in NY so I walked straight into a job. Well, walked straight is not quite true, as one of the worst snow storms on record hit the north east coast of the US that January so the walk was thru this little obstacle course.

New York Snow Blizzard 1

New York Snow Blizzard 2

This delicate little pasty Irish lad had never experienced anything quite like the cold in NY. My ears would freeze and actually hurt with the cold after a minute outside. My snot would freeze and block my breathing thru my nose. I was the proverbial brass monkey with his private bits in a freezer. But it was an exciting time and a new beginning. A new world to be explored and more adventures ahead. I figured I'd give it six months and see if I liked it. If not, sure there was always somewhere else to move on to.


Sorry but I'm afraid there's more of this drivel to follow....

Tags: ..Irish Rover ..

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Irish Rover - Part 5

....continued from Irish Rover Part 4 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways.

After my exodus from Oz I decided I'd catch a few highlights on the journey back to Ireland. First I spent 2 weeks in Thailand for some R&R and traveled on the cheapest bus from Bangkok to Phuket (non air conditioned - non reclining seats) which is highly recommended if you're into a 12 hour self inflicted S&M session. The locals traveled with all sorts of goods they bought or wanted to sell including massive refuse bags full of WTF and live chickens so there's not much room to spare.

It was a beautiful beach spot, but also very disturbing due to the number of local young girls who worked as prostitutes. I took a wrong turn one night and walked into what I thought was a nightclub. There were about a hundred girls behind a glass screen holding large white cards with a number. Quite a few old fat ugly tourists were drinking and chatting in a lounge and deciding which number they'd pick. Very seedy - not my scene - I exited stage left.

Next, I spent a week in Nepal and traveled a ridiculously dangerous and memorable hair pin bend road from Kathmandu to Chit Wan national park for a 4 day safari and a close up view of rhinos (not to be messed with), elephants (ditto) , crocodiles (ditto x 2) , monkeys and even a tiger (ditto x 3) - Absolutely amazing trip.

Next stop was India and the hustle and bustle of Delhi and on to Agra to see one of the 'seven wonders of the world' the Taj Mahal - spectacular! - an amazing structure that defies belief and beyond the descriptive abilities of this blogger. You need to see it to believe it!

Next stop London to catch up with old friends for a weekend and finally Dublin. The date was Dec 24th 1993.

I hadn't told anybody including the parents I was coming home for Xmas. I hadn't seen them in almost 3 years so wanted it to be a big surprise. As I pulled up in a taxi, I started to imagine the wild reception I would get - Jumping, rejoicing, fireworks, beer! After I rang the front door bell - I could see the silhouette my Dad making his way to answer the door. I started to shuffle my feet in excitement. The door swung open and as he eyed me and then the taxi pulling away he said....

...."Yeah I thought it might be you alright - Gobshite - why are you wasting your money on taxis when I could've picked you up at the airport?"

Not quite the warm Irish welcome reception I was expecting - but good to be home nonetheless!

Tags: ..Irish welcome, Irish hospitality, Irish humour..

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Irish Rover - Part 4

Some of the folks that comment regularly here missed my previous post - as there were RSS issues
- one of my few serious posts ever :-( scroll down to the previous post or click here

....continued from Irish Rover - Part 3 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways.

Having worked like a dog for 12 months straight after arriving in Australia in 1991 (without a holiday), I had more money in the bank than at any other time in my life. I decided to chuck in my job so I could explore the vastness of Oz. I went backpacking up the east coast which was an amazing experience.

This pasty white Irishman had seen nothing quite like this before. White sand, turquoise water for mile after mile of coastline. The nightlife in the hostels was great with a diverse cross section of people from all over the world.

I stopped in a small undeveloped town called Mission Beach near the Great Barrier Reef and did the diving / snorkeling thing which was incredible. I ended up staying there for 2 months and worked in a hostel. For 2 hours work a day, I got free dinner and free accommodation in a dormitory. I went white water rafting, abseiling, skydiving, you name it I did it and of course I had the occasional wee tipple as you do.

I continued the journey and visited Darwin, Kakadu, Alice Springs, Ayers Rock, Adelaide, Melbourne and eventually back to Sydney. The trip took about 6 months in all but I've always regretted not making it to western Australia.

I rejoined the rat race and worked for another 9 months before TWO significant immigration issues had a major impact on my life.

First, a phone call from Australian immigration.

Hi Paddy,

We notice you've over stayed your visa ........

...long story for another day, but short story is I left Oz within 7 days (not a happy camper) but the alternative was a detention centre with Chinese boat people.

Second, a letter arrived from the US embassy.

Dear Paddy,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for a lottery visa to work in the USA has been randomly selected by our computer and if you complete the necessary prerequisites and paperwork you will have the opportunity to enter and work in the United States of America.

Sometimes by a stroke of luck, as one door closes, another opens and so it was in this case.

....to be continued

Tags: ..Irish immigration, ..

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Irish Rover - Part 3

.....Continued from Irish Rover - Part 2

After an extra big night out in Camden (bad idea but inevitable), I poured myself onto the plane at Heathrow at 8am for a twenty something hour flight to Sydney. I'd never taken a long haul flight before. In fact I think my longest flight prior to this marathon was 3 hours but they had non stop free beer who could argue with that - certainly not me.

I finally arrived a bit green around the gills and jet lagged but was lucky to be met by some friends where I had reserved a sofa to crash on. They lived in Bondi beach as many expats did (and still do) and within 2 hours of arrival, I'd been introduced to the nectar of the Gods - Victoria Bitter (VB beer to the heathens) and the Silver Spoon Thai restaurant (2 ingredients that I still crave today). Penang chicken is on my mind as I write. The quality of Asian food in Oz is phenomenal as is the wine. The system of B.Y.O.B. (bring your own booze) is genius. Who wants to pay 100-200% mark-up on wine / beer when you eat out - not the Aussies - proper order too.

Thru my Bondi sofa donor I got in contact with a work agency where I secured a 3 month contract as a bean counter / techie geek with a company that made weighing scales and meat slicers (GEC Avery) - The company was miles out in the burbs of Leightonfield and they were on their way under when I joined. It no longer exists today but they a great bunch of people and we would end in the R.S.L (Returned Servicemen’s League) club for cheap beer on many an occasion.

I really got into horse riding back then and I actually got pretty good at it and practically every weekend was spent galloping the plains in the west of Sydney near Campbelltown followed by some crazy nights back at friends who lived out there where impromptu karaoke sessions in the garage would ensue (I still have the videos!)

I shared a house in Bondi beach with some travelling Israeli's who couldn't cook so I perfected a chile con carne / bolognaise hybrid that I still use and packs a wallop and was our staple diet at least 5 nights a week. For obvious reasons the loo was to be avoided back then and probably still is off limits now.

I eventually moved to the more happening neighbourhood of Paddington. Oz truly was a land of opportunity. A land of sunny weather, outdoor activities and golden beaches. A land of endless possibilities and they loved the Irish. It was a far throw from the cold, grey, dark, damp, London I had left.

I remember spending Xmas day on the beach (which was surreal) and going for a BBQ afterwards. As a pasty Irishman my skin was not used to this heat and sun and I got sunburnt quite a bit. Laid back is how I would sum up Oz - Very Laid back!

The 3 month work gig turned into 12 months and could have kept going but I had yet to see the country and my itchy feet needed a scratching, so I decided to pack it all in and go walkabout.

..more of this drivel to follow!

Tags: Sydney, Australia, Oz, Paddy, POME, Prisoner of Mother England, Paddington, Bondi Beach, R.S.L. club

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Irish Rover - Part 2

......Continued from Irish Rover - Part 1

After Tooting in South London, we moved as a group of 6 yobs to Colindale, North London. It was once again on the Northern line tube (subway) and yet again, one hours uncomfortable journey to work. The location was even more remote than Tooting and besides the Kings Arms pub there wasn't much to do. Truth be told there was nothing to do - boring as HELL!

The house had a garden which was a luxury, but it was English weather, so it didn't get used that much. I remember tube strikes which made travel to and from work a challenge. I remember really bad pizza delivery and trips to the supermarket (Asda) to buy a weeks supply of boil in the bag rice and boil in the bag fish - yeuch! - It's true my culinary skills had yet to be honed!

I had ditched the shi-te construction company and landed a good spot in a telecommunications company, where I met some great people that I'm still in contact with. I think this is where the travel bug kicked in. I was bored of London and I had a few pounds to spare (money - not kilos and a beer gut as now!) , so I spent it on long weekends to discover nearby European cities. I found some old photos recently of a weekend in Amsterdam where we couldn't find a hotel so we resorted to renting a Volkswagen van to sleep in (5 of us).

In London, I kept moving to different neighbourhoods in search of ...I don't know what... To Archway (Northern Line), then Hackney, followed by Camden (Northern Line) before I made my 'BIG' exit from the UK altogether to Australia. I had scored a 1 year working holiday visa to the 'Land Down Under!' - The world was indeed my oyster - (whatever the frick that means?)

More to follow.....



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Irish Rover - Part 1

Tooting Broadway, London

I graduated college in late eighties Ireland and what awaited me was, well......... nothing! - No job opportunities, no prospects - nada! This was long pre Celtic Tiger and the dole was looming but London was just a hop skip and a jump away, so off I went like the multitudes of others to seek my fortune or at least pay may way.

I knew some college peeps in Tooting Broadway in south London, but their house was full, so I rented a bedsit (one room) nearby in Big Mama's house. She was from Jamaica and although a bit strict, she was fun for a seventy year old. Tooting was a very ethnic community at the time (still is by all accounts) and if you were Irish, you were assumed to be working in construction or terrorism.

I over heard her speaking to her daughter on the phone who warned her Irish people were drunks, smelly and trouble (a stereotype that in fairness wasn't completely undeserved at the time). At least she didn't mention the IRA!

I hated London back then. I had a shit job as an accounts clerk/dogsbody/ tea maker, in a shit construction company, in a city that was not very fond of the Irish (mostly due to the IRA troubles back then). I found out that I replaced a woman who was fired because her and the boss (my new boss) were found 'doing the nasty' on his desk and were caught in the act by the CEO. The bloke that interviewed me did a runner a few weeks later after embezzling a small fortune.

A slot opened up in the college peeps house, so I moved in there and bid 'Big Mama' farewell. It was an hour on the Northern Line tube (subway) to and from work which was like being squashed into a sardine tin which stopped for no apparent reason. Suicide (people throwing themselves in front of the train) turned out to be a common delay factor.

My salary barely covered my rent and expenses, but I was now an independent individual, free from the shackles of eighties Ireland, but not a happy camper in any way shape or form. My cooking skills were non existent but it was a case of learn to cook or starve, so I coped as best I could. Beans and toast was the staple diet!

Many a weekend was spent in the Swan in Stockwell or Biddy Mulligans Pub and followed by the National Ballroom in Kilburn. They were rough and raw spots where fights broke out regularly. Batter burger n' chips was our idea of eating out back then.

.....to be continued!

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