A Season in Saudi Arabia

In the midst of a now typically heated argument with my mother about whether God had abandoned us, I shouted I need a job now! You see, I couldn’t wait any longer. McDonald’s was killing me physically and mentally a little more each day, but we needed the money too much for me to just quit. We’d already suffered catastrophic financial losses in the wake of the super typhoon, endured a total loss of peace from the merciless Chinese developing a five-star palace in front of our Siargao home and I’d personally experienced the horror of multiple melanomas. All these terrible things had already shaken my faith to the very core. Now, just day to day living in England was becoming too much to handle. That’s why I had shouted. I wondered if God might finally listen to the desperate cry of a broken person and actually do something good about it.  Amazingly, within days of the argument, I received a call from a local guesthouse. I had applied for at least 25 local jobs in the wake of the ter...

As autumn approached, I realised I'd need additional employment alongside my surf shop duties to get us through another year. You see, the surf school more or less closes down every November and the surf shop only remains open at the weekends for a few hours each day (sometimes closing early if it rains) until it closes between Christmas and Easter.  Anyway, late summer I passed the interview at Cromer McDonalds and scheduled my first shift for late September. From the very beginning, I found everything incredibly hard. Instead of training you to be a master of one or two processes, they move you around the floor like a yoyo. I started on burgers but soon got moved to fried chicken, drinks, sorting orders, fries and washing up. I was crap at pretty much everything and working alongside teenagers who laughed their way through every shift. And while they didn't take it that seriously, they were far, far faster than me!  One evening, a guy ordering on the drive through called me ...

Following our move to Cromer, life had settled down into a familiar routine. I continued my work at the town's only surf school (now just a short walk rather than an arduous 4-mile cycle ride up and down a hill away) and my wife's work was now even closer. While my son's life was definitely lonelier (he no longer had his five cousins to play with), he had his own loft space and privacy and everything was a whole lot calmer and quieter than living with my brother in the Strand. Gerson Therapy routines continued too, which was a whole lot easier in our own space without worrying about the constant whir of the juicer or the availability of a toilet to expel the contents of yet another coffee enema. Back in early 2024, in the midst of discovering two new primary invasive melanomas, I had sent my blood to Greece for analysis as part of my consultations with my Gerson practitioner. RGCC in Greece confirmed a 3.2 result in March 2024, which basically indicated a certain level of c...

As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs , it became apparent in early 2024 that we couldn't stay at my brother's place forever. He'd given us a year following my Whatsapp message plea from the Philippines. It hadn't been an easy time for anyone. I'd had my face carved up, hadn't got over all our other losses psychologically speaking, and was trying desperately to heal the Gerson way, but they had their lives to get on with and the small rent we paid them didn't remotely compensate for the imposition of a family in the heart of their home. While they had originally given us a deadline of September 13th to leave, we luckily found alternative accommodation sooner. It was a tiny loft space behind a bungalow situated two miles away in the heart of Cromer for 100 pounds a month more than we were paying at my brothers. It had looked more likely we wouldn't be able stay on the coast and be forced to move back to my mother's house in land, but when this af...

They began in February - headaches - which never seemed to stop. I've never suffered from them before, so I knew something was wrong. The problem with melanoma is any little innocuous symptom you might have - let alone constant headaches - could indicate something very serious. Headaches are a symptom of around 50% of those who experience disease progression in the brain. I spent a lot of time online researching any articles which might help establish whether my headaches were melanoma or something else. The most disturbing article I read was about chronic headaches being experienced by a cohort of breast cancer survivors. For those whose headaches went on longer than 9 weeks, 51% were later diagnosed with brain mets. Of course, the article was about breast cancer, but melanoma loves the brain even more than breast cancer, so when the headaches wouldn't quit after three months, I became utterly convinced I was gonna die soon! Of course, I had to jump through a few hoops to prov...

Something positive finally happened and, ironically, it was connected with Saudi Arabia. Completely out of the blue, the British guy in charge of the newly formed Saudi surf team invited Raf and I to join him and the entire Saudi team at Bristol’s Wave - an outdoor wave pool with pretty good waves - and onto Newquay for a surf competition. All our expenses were to be paid and I’d get a little extra for doing some social media reels. While I knew I couldn’t continue my nutritional therapy, I decided to accept the offer but only for Bristol (which meant only two nights away from the juicing and enema routine).  On a sunny day in the middle of May, Raf and I boarded trains in Cromer and Norwich, crossed London, jumped onto a fast train to Bristol, before checking into a lovely hotel on the outskirts of the city. The Saudis arrived much later than us, so our first afternoon was alone in the mall, where Raf devoured a beef burger and I picked up a bargain beanie for £4 (never one to was...

My world has fallen apart many times since leaving Saudi in July 2021. Typhoons, Chinese construction near your dream home and skin cancer tends to do that. Inevitably, after each set back, I wondered why - why me? why us? why now? Unsurprisingly, I almost felt like we (or I) were under some sort of curse . However, nothing could have prepared me for what God had lined up next. I can tell you the exact moment when my world began to fall apart again: I had spotted a tiny 1mm black spot on my chin in the mirror at work and thought it was just a blotch of ink, so I tried to rub it off but it was a stubborn mark and wasn’t going anywhere. In a sudden state of panic, I kept on rubbing until I caused my skin to bleed a little. I knew this mark wasn’t supposed to be there. And that meant it might be melanoma again.  A few weeks later, in mid-December 2023, I was assured by a private dermatologist in Norwich that the lesion looked totally normal. But I’ve heard that all before. The next da...