Before we emigrated to Australia we lived in a small town (small for the UK) of about 11,000 people called Congleton, which is in Cheshire.
During the time we lived there we took part in the celebrations for the town’s 700 th anniversary.
I worked shifts for BOAC (later British Airways) at Manchester Airport, which was 50 kms from home.
We enjoyed our time in Congleton, and loved the location of our house, which was one of five that over looked the River Dane.
The above picture show the view from our bedroom window.
The above view is from our living-room window.
The above photographs are getting old.
Life was good until the interest rates went up to 18%, petrol climbed to stupid prices (I didn’t have a company car, so I was paying for my own petrol) and the weather could be a pain.
The whiteness of the above two photographs is the frost – not snow.
Come Christmas we had snow, which was fine and felt very ‘Christmas’, until you had to dig the car out and try to get to work – if the road was open.
At times only four wheeled drive vehicles were allowed out of the town.
So a decision had to be made, because the cost of living in such a beautiful area was killing us. We decided to move closer to the airport, but which airport?
Instead of moving closer to Manchester we decided to move closer to Melbourne airport in Australia, so we began the long process of gaining permission to emigrate. Which is another story.
After about a year we finally had permissions to emigrate.
It took us over a further year to sell the house, due to the high interest rates – we sold the house twice, but the first time it fell through because the buyer couldn’t secure the loan due to the interest rates.
Finally we sold, but we had to be in Australia by a certain date or else our Australian residency visa would expire.
We left power of attorney with our solicitor and flew out just in time. We paid full price for all our tickets, I was too old, at thirty five, to emigrate for £50.00.
Our first Christmas in Australia on Chelsea beach in Victoria.
I was out of work for eleven days, and was offered three jobs. The best job interview I’d ever had was in Melbourne. I was taken to a pub for lunch by the State Manager & the Admin manager of an international courier company, and at the end of the lunch they asked when I could start.
I started the next day and was given a company vehicle as part of my package. At the end of my first day I left the office in the dark on a wet rainy Friday, driving a strange vehicle and I didn’t know the way home.
In the end I kept Port Phillip Bay on my right and kept going until I recognised the railways station near where we lived.
From then on we’ve never looked back, Australia is a great country.
2 thoughts on “Should we or shouldn’t we . . .”
Very moving tale with clearly: a happy ending
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All’s well that ended well Geoffrey, we’ve been very lucky in Australia. Happy New Year !