Fairy Hanny

Show up, even when life feels messy.

Show up, even when life feels messy.

Even when doubt and fear come up.

Those emotions are part of being human.

But you must not forget the incredible resilience within you, the human spirit that has the capacity to endure, adapt, and achieve extraordinary things.

You may stumble. You may make mistakes.

But your power lies in the very act of showing up.

With determination and consistency, new doors begin to open and opportunities you couldn’t see before start to take shape.

Do it – even when it’s hard.

Every small step rooted in courage will eventually lead to results beyond what you can imagine right now.

Daily Motivation 15th March 2026

Fairy Hanny Rides Again!

So I was sitting here at my laptop, editing two of my current works of Art. However I just lost focus on both books. I finally found the antagonist behind Inspector Flaanges mystery in Death at the Dick factory, but the prose was just so turgid.

Then I went on to edit St. Neds, the story of a Physics teacher at a boarding school in Suffolk who becomes friends with the Avatars of some Sloths and a Proboscis Monkey, as they ride their vintage motorcycles causing havoc and concern!

That didn’t get me either.

So Hanny crept in! She was there reminding me how much I love the limitless style of the life of a Fairy that lives on Uranus, and gets involved in Time Travel with Mad Tom of Bedlam. She whispered in my ear – ‘ you need to explore the Arthurian legends, and Robin Hood; both great for writing about silly quests!’

And now she is on her way to visit King Arthur and the Knights in White Satin, at the Castle in Albion – that’s West Bromwich.

And as I explored this theme and ignored the others I got a message from Daily Motivation, which seemed approriate. I have attached it here to ponder as I wonder through the great blue yonder of my mind!

“No matter which path you take, it will carry its own beauty and its own struggles.

Even the right decisions may sometimes bring doubt, confusion, and fear.

Every choice comes with a cost.

As you navigate the uncertainty of what lies ahead, celebrate the small wins and practice gratitude for what you have.

The lessons and the joys are found in the becoming.

There will be times when you question whether you made the right choice.

That’s when you need to tune into your heart and choose what feels true to you.

Support from others can comfort you at times, but ultimately, this is your journey.

No one else can walk it for you.

Trust your own quiet inner voice over the noise of the world.”

Buenas Dias Fairy Hanny. Mucho gusto!

Aunty Mary

When we were kids we used to sing this song, to the tune of an old British Army Marching tune (I thought it was the Gay Gordons but I was wrong and will try to find it!)

“Aunty Mary,
Had a Canary,
Up the leg of her draws.
She pulled them down,
And found half-a-crown,
Up the leg of her draws.”

Of course we laughed. But when my Aunty Mary came to visit I was always curious as to whether she still had that canary, and was it still safely hidden within her underwear. One time when she was leaving she gave me a parting gift of half-a-crown and I was highly suspicious of its former whereabouts!

[For youngsters – half-a-crown was two shillings and sixpence, written as 2/6-; in modern Britain that would be 12½p, though the ½p went out of circulation in December 1984 as it cost more to manufacture than its face value! ]

Friday 4th July

Happy birthday to the ungrateful colonials! It’s ironic that almost 250 years after becoming a republic without a King, they have elected a man who would be King! (Apologies to Rudyard Kipling).

Sitting up late last night, chatting away on social media, I think I have a ‘date’ when I get back to Oman. An attractive Indian acquaintance. We shall see…

Not a lot happening today. I finished reading The Thursday Murder club book. Some sad bits in it. I am still impressed that I can become so involved with characters in books and films and they bring tears to my eyes. Does it happen to everyone or am I just a big softy.

Soft Lad, my Dad used to call me when I messed around.

I fell asleep while reading on my bed. I had a weird set of dreams in which I dreamt I was dreaming and couldn’t tell when I was in the real world! The real world is Room 207, Sanur Augung Hotel. I eventually raised myself and went out. The traffic down at the junction is truly terrifying. No lane ever completely stops. It appears that turning left is always open – they drive on the left ere in Indonesia.

I finally went into the Chinese restaurant and ordered Ayam Goreng – Fried chicken. I wouldn’t recommend it. The fried chicken tasted burnt; it was served with chips and a side salad. As an added annoyance a kitten came over to my table and climbed up, watching me eating. I managed to ‘relocate’ it… I liked the restaurant, not so busy inside and prices are reasonable. It’s easy to get a main course for less than £2. The also have the 330ml bottles of Bintang for 25000 rupiah. I checked on my currency converter and it said that was £1.13. Back at my home in Oman, a similar bottle at Sandyz Beach Bar would be about £7. I can see why people retire to this part of the world.

Back at the hotel I was tired but not sleepy. This is day six of being in Bali and there is still that mix of late nights and jet lag.

I was getting into bed at midnight when Aisha came online from Kazakhstan. We are old friends and lovers, though these days I don’t know what she wants from me. I have invited her on holiday to Oman, as yet not taking the opportunity.

After a chat with Aisha I started reading the next book, and became aware of some very loud music. I thought it was from one of the neighbours so I went onto the balcony to investigate. Apparently it was coming from a nightclub located the other side of the main road. The thumping went on to 3 am, by which time sleep was beyond me. Anyone ever get that?

I realise it is Friday night and no doubt it will repeat tomorrow, I think the trick here is to drink lots of beer and fall into bed!

Not a word typed up yet. I promised myself to work on two books while I am here. I have to get the penultimate draft of The Death of Mr Dick, and complete the first draft of St. Neds (I have the handwritten notes with me.)

Motivation.

No sleep at all so let’s segue into the next day…

Thursday 3rd July.

I didn’t go out exploring anywhere!

I got up about 0930 and had breakfast here in the hotel. Continental breakfast – two slices of toast with jam and butter, plus a cup of very strong coffee – thick as mud.

I have spent most of the day reading and doom scrolling – I think it’s called a hangover The news today said that a ferry off Bali sank and there are 60+ people missing. Janet was sweet enough to send me a message to see if I was OK. Popped back to Sunshine 88 at 6 only to discover the chef doesn’t arrive until 7, so an hour of drinking on an empty stomach first!

My internal debate today is whether to buy a car when I get back to Oman. If I am to hire a car for another two years it will cost me between £6k and £7k. If I buy one for about £4000 and sell it in a couple of years for as little as £2000, it means that over the time I will be about £4000 better off. Seems like a no brainer, though I need to find out about tax, insurance, and MOT etc.

It was raining this afternoon and I noticed the swimming pool was empty as nobody wants to get wet… I know that really they can’t sit out on sunbeds but swimming should not be an issue.

I used Google translate at the restaurant and got this;

Ayam – chicken

Babi – pork

Pedas – spicy

Nasi – rice

Sapi – cow

Ayam goreng – fried chicken

Bistik – steak

Nasi goreng – fried rice.

The last one made me smile. When I worked at the Royal Hospital School in Suffolk, every now and again the menu would say ‘Nasi Goreng’ which sounded really exotic. It turns out it just means fried rice. Yet another example of how we can be fooled by language.

“£350 million a week for the NHS” must be one of the biggest lies in History.

Wednesday 2nd July.

Happy birthday to me!

I’m not sure if this makes me a sad old man or an individual – I woke up alone in room 207 of the Sanur Augung hotel, Denpasar, Bali to celebrate completing my 68^th orbit of the planet. Lots of happy birthdays popped up on Facebook and LinkedIn, though less than last year. I don’t think quite as many real friends pay much attention to Facebook these days.

No contact from any of my boys so far – I thought that at least Alex would make an effort. But then, I am 7 hours ahead of UK time and they do tend to get up late morning.

I managed to sleep 9 hours last night so that is probably the jetlag done. Had breakfast at the hotel and opted for the ‘Continental’ which turned out to be two pieces of toast cut in triangles, with a pat of butter and some strawberry jam. Not sure which continent they are referring to!

I sat down by the pool reding for a while, well into the Osman Thursday Murder club. Apparently the books are being made into movies with Pierce Brosnan, Helen Mirren, Celia Imrie and Ben Kingsley. It will be interesting to see how the screen characters match my imagination. I remember watching the first Lord of the Rings movie and feeling my lifelong images of Sam and Frodo were wiped from my memory.

Got into the pool and did twelve lengths this time. A small Indonesian girl had a water gun and decided it would be fun to shoot me when I got close. I’m not sure whether her mother explained to her what ‘Fuck Off’ means. She will live and learn. I noticed that the pool is not used much between 1300 and 1500 – probably locals not to keen in being out in the full sun, which means I now know the best time to get some lengths in!

Didn’t eat much during the day. I notice my feet are still swelling because of the water retention. I am having to try and eke out the medication until I can get a new prescription. They still have not supplied me with my new Insurance card; if I fall badly ill again due to this failure I will be taking legal advice. Imagine travelling around southeast Asia without proof of current medical insurance!

I decided to try another local restaurant just down the road from me. It’s called Betewe – not sure how to pronounce that. That have an electronic sign saying open to 9.30 pm. I went along at 5.45 pm only to be told they would be closing at 6! I pointed to their sign – “That’s only on Monday for Jazz night.”

So back down to KFC for another uninspiring meal.

Tomorrow I will go looking for other local restaurants. I spotted a Chinese one a couple of streets down – go for that tomorrow.

Back at the hotel drinking those big bottles of Bintang…

Happy birthday to me.

Tuesday 1st July

It’s my birthday tomorrow.

Nobody helps me celebrate so I do my own thing. I remember Jane organised a fantastic party for my 33^rd – halcyon days. Last year I went to spend my birthday on the QE2 in Dubai. For my 60^th I went to Grenada and spent the day at the Alhambra; we used to go to a pub of that name way back in the 70’s when I was a student at the Lanchester Polytechnic, Coventry.

The Alhambra was fascinating.

But today was one of those none days.

The jet lag and beer have hit again so didn’t wake up until 11 am. Felt ghastly – what a lovely word! It took a while to get going but a hot shower and some clothing set me off to check out last night’s cash machine again. Still nothing for either card. Am I fucked? Is it the machine?

Did another tourist trip to KFC, bought a meal which included a fish burger and I know I will never order that shit again! Found another cash machine close to KFC and came out a millionaire! This one worked with my UK bank card so I took out three million rupiah!

I am a millionaire!!!

It turns out it was actually £135.60 according to my online banking.

But still – millions!

100,000 rupiah is about £4.50.

I can dream.

I decided to head back for a swim – the pool was full of little kids, so no way. Back in Oman if I ever get in for a swim and there are little kids about I become some sort of magnet – they keep swimming close to me and blocking my lane and being annoying little cunts. So I sat reading the Thursday Murder club book instead.

My legs have felt really wobbly today; not sure if that is because of walking for four hours yesterday of my heart condition. We will see. Shaking when walking downstairs…

I think my birthday should start a new fitness regime – 68 tomorrow. (You know I just typed 58 – a Freudian slip, a failure to admit, or just insane?)

Walking here at night is disturbing – uneven pavement s and limited street lighting. I have no doubt I will get used to it. And crossing this road is taking you life into your own hands – maybe there is a technique to it.

As I write this I am listening to a Led Zeppelin classic Since I’ve been loving you, and thinking of the girls and ex-wives and Aisha. Some day I will get it right!

I only packed one book and then bought two others at Muscat airport. The one I brought is by Tony Robinson and is called Unlimited Power. I have read about half of it then got distracted and put it to one side. I need to start again at page one – it’s full of great stuff.

The Osman and Seymour are pulp fiction (great movie) and I will probably leave them here, or give them to someone. I can see this is an interesting place to hang out. The more I read by these ‘professionals, the more I realise I need to refine my writing style. Yes, I have three books on Amazon but they are not supporting me financially!

So I brought my current projects with me.

Death of Mr Dick. The proprietor of a company that manufactures and imports ‘marital aids and grot mags, is found dead under suspicious circumstances. Inspector Hunter Flaange to solve the mystery.
St Neds. Dr Graham Boreham-Quigley and his life at a boarding school in Suffolk.
The Phuket Incident. Another Flaange story about a murder in Ipswich and its link to a bizarre holiday in Phuket. DS Jason Belvoir can’t say Phuket.

Sitting here I am also considering the courses I have to upload to Thinkific, the o Maybe Aisha? Online tutee, the Maths worksheets which could become a book, the Maths PowerPoints which could become a course…

I need a business partner/secretary. Maybe Aisha – would she be interested?

As I sat at the poolside I realised I was the only one with a Physical book in my hand – everyone else is on a smartphone.

Is that the world today?

Monday 30th June

An interesting and embarrassing day!

Of course woke with a mixture of jet lag and a hangover. It turns out the beer bottles here cost fifty thousand rupiah, which is about £2,20, and each one is 620 ml. A pint in the UK is about 570 ml and costs between £4 and £5, unless you’re a knob who lives in London and happy to pay £7 a pint; still they get paid more in London and pay £1000 a month to rent a box room in a terrace in the East End.

Breakfast was cheap. I asked for a ‘continental’ breakfast, which was interpreted as two slices of toast, scrambled eggs, butter and a sachet of jam! But it was only 70p so I am not complaining.

Nobody in the pool at midday, though it was very busy when I got up at 8. The other great thing to note is that there Arnt any towels on the sunbeds. Last year when I was on holiday in Turkey, the sunbeds were all ‘towelled’ by 0800, though nobody was on them. I think European travellers can be cunts sometimes.

Mid/late morning wandered down the road to KFC – I know, crap traveller. Long queues but I eventually got chicken and chips … Took my life in my hands crossing the road. Apparently this is one of the main roads north out of Denpasar and is always busy. Went to K Circle and bought a six pack of Bintang, the local beer. I probably should have gone back to the hotel and put it in the fridge, but no – Peter is more sensible. Headed off to the beach with it in my backpack. Walked for miles along the beach – I need to go back and sit down to listen to the waves.

Photo by Asad Photo Maldives on Pexels.com

After a convoluted walk I eventually found my way back to the hotel. It turns out KFC is one of my landmarks – bizarre.

Jumped into the pool and swam ten lengths. It’s about 10m so happy; 2m at the deep end. Nobody else in the pool. It appears the hotel fills up mostly with Indonesians and they don’t swim in full sun, Mad dogs and Englishmen…

Back to Google Maps – is there a bar nearby? Well yes there is and it is called ‘Sunshine 88’ and it is right next door to the hotel. Turns out to be a karaoke bar, but they serve food and beer. My first time for listening to Indonesian Karaoke. Some great singers and the girls who work there help to dispel the myth of the petite Asian woman!

At the end of the evening I went to pay with my card – ‘we don’t take cards. Cash only’. I didn’t have enough cash!’ One of the girls offered to put me on the back of her scooter to take me to a cashpoint; I don’t do two wheels anymore – still suffering from the motorbike accident in 1982! So I walked down the road to a cashpoint. Neither of my cards would let me have any money! Both rejected. Which was weird because I had used my NBO card in the supermarket and KFC, without a problem.

Embarrassing.

We went back to Sunshine 88 and there was a guy out there who helped as an interpreter. I offered £15 which was something like ninety thousand rupiah more than the bill. They accepted.

Will I go back?

Probably – beer is less than £3 for a massive bottle and the food was good!

Back at the hotel I did an online chat with my bank. My card is fine, no blocks on it. Must be a problem with the ATM.

Also noted the card runs out at the end of July so how can I get my replacement?

Another mini hurdle!

Sunday 29th June.

Oman Air flight 922 had disembarked at Muscat airport and I was wandering around by half past midnight. The next flight was due to leave at 0220 so less than two hours to sit and wait. It was often the same at airports, a couple of hours between flights. Though there was one time. when I was going out to Chengdu that there was a very quick turnaround at Schiphol airport, only 55 minutes. When I got to the check-in gate they wouldn’t let me board as they said my suitcase wouldn’t be loaded on time. So I had to wait an extra three hours for the next flight. The irony was that when I arrived at Chengdu my luggage was not there and I had to wait a couple of days for it to catch up with me!

There is a WH Smith shop in Muscat airport, always a good place to mooch about. I bought the fourth Thursday Murder Club and a Gerald Seymour. I also discovered that it’s a great place to allow the exhaust gases to escape, covered by a loud voice announcing a departure. I think it’s the constant pressure changes and the crap food they serve on airlines. When I sat in the departure lounge I realised I’ve read the Murder club book already.

I once had an eight hour stopover at Vnukovo Airport, Moscow, on my way back from Kazakhstan. It was relatively new at the time and the only all night place was a Burger King. Being Moscow, it sold beer.

We were able to board the Oman Air flight 849 in plenty of time and were all settled and ready for take-off. A French couple sat next to me – I had an aisle seat this time. Within seconds they had their eye masks on and settled down to sleep; I find it difficult to sleep on flights. Then the pilot announced there would be a slight delay due to a connecting flight from Riyadh being late. We waited another hour and fifteen minutes before we were able to depart. Something to do with all the war criminals like Netanyahu, Trump and the fella in Iran causing flight delays and cancellations as they were swinging their Dick’s at each other. It’s always the same; the big mouthed ‘leaders’ shout bollocks at each other and the working-class soldiers go off to die.

The French guy next to me was trying twat games and man spreading but I would let him do it. Trying to slide his feet under the seat in front of me, leaning into my side to intimidate – doesn’t work. I remember one flight out from London when I had one of those seats with extra legroom and no seats in front of me, only to find I was sat in the middle of two massive monsters – they couldn’t intimidate either; I made sure I was regularly banging my tray and monitor into place.

The flight to Jakarta was meant to be seven and a half hours, and yet despite the delay we still arrived on time! So much for schedules. On the flight I watch both of the recent Dune films. Back in school days my mate Coddo was a big fan of Frank Herbert and persuaded me to read both books. I like them and remember Paul Atreides, the Harkonnen’s, Bene Gesserit and Muad’Dib, but they didn’t capture my soul the way Tolkien had.

When I arrived at Jakarta, CGK, I found I had to collect my luggage and check-in again as the next stage was an internal flight. So back through passport control and up to the check-in desks. The first sign said check in at desks E1 to E6. When I got there it was the wrong ones – it should have been F1 to F6. Maybe my eyes were just tired from lack of sleep. Funny thing was that many of the people at saw at the E desks were on the same flight as me!

There we go, just under two hours on GA420 and I was in Bali! I had ordered a taxi via Booking.com which was sent to meet me at International Arrivals and I was at Domestic arrivals! I was lucky enough to get an airport golf buggy across; not that it mattered as the taxi driver was an hour late. When we headed away from the airport I could see why – the traffic is fantastic! Too much – cars, trucks, busses, and motorbikes chopping and changing and swerving all over the road.

It was about 1030 when I got to the hotel after travelling for twenty-two hours, and I was wide awake. Got to my room, had a shower, and changed and headed back downstairs. The reception area also has a cold fridge where they keep beer, so I ordered some! They are 620 ml and cost 50,000 rupiah, which seems a lot but is about £2.26. Bed just after midnight and tomorrow I will acclimatise and start reviewing writing and publishing plans. Of course this diary will go on my blog!

As I lay on my bed dozing off I realised that somewhere over the Indian Ocean I had crossed the equator for the first time and I am now in the Southern hemisphere!!!

Saturday 28th June.

Going on Holiday!

School finished a few days ago, with an odd ending. From the stary of the academic year it was written in the school calendar that we would finish on Thursday 26^th. (Note – the school is in Oman and the work week runs from Sunday to Thursday). We had forewarning that the Islamic New Year (1st of Muharram) would be around about that date and so the Principal worked on the assumption that the 26^th would be a public holiday. So he planned the last week like this-

Sunday and Monday as normal school days (not that many students turned up).

Tuesday – end of term celebrations at the Sultan Qaboos complex in Salalah. Pupils would put on acts and receive prizes etc. There was also an Art Show. The whole thing was opened by some big wig from the Ministry of Education. It was a nice morning. Staff had to arrive by 0830 and the whole place to be clear by 1230. It meant I had a chance to get in an early swim at my compound in Hawana, though I only managed a dozen lengths, which is 240m; I suppose it would sound better if I said a quarter of a kilometre.

Wednesday – all staff to come to school by 0800 and could leave at 1400. There was a meeting ‘well done, thanks etc.’ Then off to classrooms to sort out and prepare for next year.

It turned out that the spotting of the Moon was at a different time and the public holiday was declared for the 29^th – best laid plans etc.

Now I really did think that I was going to be very busy that day sorting out my room for my successor – and it turns out I am my successor!

Back in April I was offered a job as a Maths teacher at a school in Kuala Lumpur where an old friend of mine is head of the secondary school. Things looked ok though there was a pay cut; I was ok with that as I knew I would not need a rental car in the City, and rents were lower, so I could see that at least half of the pay cut would be reduced. Later on I found that pay is taxed…

Then in May I was offered the chance to move to our new school in Muscat; this will be the third school owned by the company, as we have this main one here an Salalah and another in Duqm (which I never pronounce properly). I was also offered a pay rise to move!

So, being a clever little Maths teacher I sat down with pen and pencil and calculator. Conclusion – because of tax and reduced income the school in Muscat would mean my take home pay would be nearly £2000 a month more!!!

No brainer.

Apologised to John in KL – sorry mate! And stared preparing to move to Muscat.

Then on Sunday 21^st June the Principal hit me with some news – the Ministry of Education in Muscat would not give me a work visa because my degree is in Physics and I would be employed as a Maths teacher! So 4 years to get my Physics degree, of which almost a third of the courses were Maths, counts for more than 40 years of Maths teaching.

Feckin eejits as we like to say.

There we go – 4 days before you’re set to go and everything changes. I’ already told the letting agency I was leaving at the end of the month, so had to get that sorted too – I thought I would get away with not having to pay rent for two months.

Feck it – so I have at least one more year in my five-star resort on the Sea of Oman; life is a bitch sometimes.

I’ve been waiting a while for my updated Medical Insurance card as the current one expires on the 30^thof June. I need it so I can get my medication for the summer – I have a minor heart condition and one day it will stop working… Still nothing so I went to the Pharmacy today to collect everything with the aim of paying up front and then claiming money back when I come back to Salalah. The Pharmacist looked and my prescription and would not fulfil it as it was dated the 18^th. I didn’t have time to see the doc and get a new one. I will probably have to visit a clinic in Bali or Phuket and then contact the insurance company. The girl from HR says she will send me the Insurance document as soon as she gets it.

I packed and drove to the airport and handed over my rental at twenty past seven, three hours before my flight. How to describe Salalah Airport? It’s an airport, which these days means an expensive shopping Mall where bored people will buy any old shit. I know because I bought some Calvin Klein aftershave at a stupid price. There is also a Subway which provided my evening meal.

I sat contemplating plans for my holiday;

Try to work out something with my sons,

Get The Death of Mr Dick ready for publishing,

Gomplete the first draft of St Neds,

Find out about putting the Fairy Hanny books onto Goodreads,

Research more on Thinkific,

And a million other things.

Flight was called on time – I think we get into Muscat round midnight. Then the flight will take me to Jakarta, then change for Bali.

Four weeks in Bali and I have no idea what it will be like!