BLISS

It’s that time of the year again...

Leafs start to turn into all shades of vibrant brown, red, and yellow and slowly start to fall. Leafs get crunchy as you walk past them, the air is fresh, the sun is out and you gradually start to take your winter clothes out of the closet.

Who cares if the calendar says that Autumn doesn’t start until the 22^nd of September?

You can feel it in the air. It’s Autumn alright. One the most beautiful seasons of the year. There’s just something special about Autumn and maybe that’s because the part that everyone loves about it doesn’t last long.

We cherish it more due to its short lived beauty.

This Summer was particularly different from the other 3 I have experienced whilst in the UK as it lasted longer and it was also more periods of hot weather.

On my first entry blog I described my experience since landing in the UK for the first time and how different the temperature felt. It was August and I was wearing my winter Zara coat whilst everyone was wearing t-shirts and looking at me like I was some sort of weirdo.

I remember being beginning of October 2013 when I had a panic attack over the cold I felt. It wasn’t freezing but my body wasn’t used to the type of cold I felt and the type of cold I was feeling so it entered something I like to call “safety/panic mode”.

This happened during a 5 minute walk from the bus stop to my house. I never experienced anything quite like that before. All of me was freezing and as soon as I walked in my housemate pushed me against the radiator, placed blankets on top of me and then asking me “It’s only October mate, how are you going to survive Winter?”.

I had no idea.  I went on to have a hot shower as my body was struggling to cope and I was unable to warm myself up.

Summer in Portugal is dry. In England is moist. Almost tropical, hence, after a few days of heat, the inevitable storm follows. It’s disgusting. You’re always sticky and feeling gross.

The Winter in Portugal is also dry, you can feel the cold reach your bones. In England is something that after 3 years I still can’t exactly describe. I couldn’t feel my hands, it was horrible.

I was given a great piece of advice back then: always wear a hat or carry a hat on your bag. Apparently our body loses heat from the top of our head first and by using a hat, the chances of keeping yourself in the right body temperature increases massively and end up feeling less cold as well. It actually works. I am now the proud owner of a few wool hats which I use on a daily basis like a fashion accessory. 

Like shoes. You can never just have one pair or two. Simply doesn’t work that way.

I have to admit that I have been resisting to the best of my abilities to turn the heating on. I think I did amazingly well this year as it was only last night that I turned it on for the first time since the beginning of Summer.

My boyfriend was out and I was on my own cuddled up in my blanket re-watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix . I am a huge fan of Gilmore Girls and in case you are to, be prepared for a new season coming up soon!

But back to the subject: I was eating a proper Autumnal soup which I’ve made myself: Sweet potato with rosemary. Delicious, nutritious and definitely fits well in the season.

I felt extremely comfy and happy. For nothing in particular, it’s the magical aspect of the season. You are relaxed and feel comfortable and there’s this warmth in your heart for no reason at all. You are happy just because you are happy.

Autumn is also the time where you feel like you want a duvet day.  Spend the day in bed watching movies with a nice cup of tea and some chocolate but at the same time you also want to put your wellies on, your wool hat and go for a nice walk in the park and appreciate the beauty of the season.

Autumn is great. It’s like in-between nostalgic moment, where you are transitioning from Summer to Christmas and it’s amazing. 

You remember your happy childhood moments and you are in a safe moment in your mind. I remember when I was still in kindergarten and used to take a blue blanket with me every day. I would walk around on my own with my blanket enjoying the colors of the leafs in a little bush they had there. It was by a river and an abandoned house which we used to say it was hunted and where only a witch lived in. Perfect scenario for Halloween right? Thankfully, I would go home at the end of the day as I am sure that I wouldn't find it as beautiful during the evening!

I also remember that I had a vintage poster in my bedroom of a little girl with a see-through umbrella posing outside during Autumn. I believe it to be one of many famous photos by photographer Kim Anderson as it fits perfectly in his work but can't say for sure.

And walks in the park when my nana used to do cross-country running and take me with her. Finally, a painting at my grandparents house... My grandparents have an original oil painting in their living room of a forest during Autumn with a golden vintage frame. It's a beautiful painting that captures the true essence and colors of the season. You can get lost in the details. It's huge and takes pretty much most of the wall. It's not painted by anyone famous, probably worth close to nothing but I have always been in love with that painting.

Take a deep breath and smile. Aaahhhh Autumn... Welcome back my friend.

Duvet days and walks in the park. Gert lush. Can’t get more Bristolian nor perfect than that :) 

Photo by Kim Anderson

Mortgage - Part 2

So here is the 2^nd part of this story as I previously (tried) to start talking about my part-time job and then got carried away about all the issues relating to the housing market and taxes, etc.

I will do my very best to keep focused this time.

Going back just a little bit in time, when I first moved to Bristol, my first job was in a pub as a barmaid in the city centre. I worked countless hours earning minimum wage (£6.19/per hour at the time) but it was good fun and I got to meet a lot of people which helped to forget the fact that I was all alone in a foreign country and away from my family.

About 6 months later, I started working for an Insurance company during the day but still my wages weren’t enough for rent, food, clothes and the occasional flight to fly back to visit my family, so I had another job at a restaurant on Friday and Saturday evenings to help me top up my salary and get by. I never asked for any type of benefits for the reason that I felt that some people had it far worse than me and if I was young, fit and healthy to work, why should I rely on the Government instead of myself?

So I worked in a restaurant and only had Sundays to rest. As my career progressed I would still go to the restaurant but purely because of the people that worked there. The restaurant manager Piyush (an Indian guy) was absolutely amazing and we always had a blast at work. He was an incredible dude! Always with a huge smile in his face, with a friendly word if I was feeling down for some reason and would always make me laugh.

Apart from everyone else who was Thai – it was a Thai restaurant by the way – we were the only two “outsiders” but everyone single one of the staff was lovely. They would try to make me speak Thai and because I can’t roll my tongue in the way they do, my words would come out in a weird accent and they would be in tears. To be fair, I laughed when they tried to speak Portuguese too! All good banter!

At the end of our shifts we were entitled to have a meal and my stomach doesn’t tolerate spicy food. Every evening the Chef would ask me what I wanted for dinner and cook me a different meal from everyone else’s as they would ALL eat spicy. I have learned that Thai people are warm individuals who value friendship and family and are appreciative of what they have. Some of the girls who worked there were at Uni and came from wealthy families and didn’t need to work but out of principle they would. They would be waitressing in a restaurant because they wanted to earn and spend their own money, not their parents, even though they didn’t need to and with Uni lectures and assignments to do in a foreign language. Hats off to them and I have to say, that’s good parenting right there.

Apart from the odd customer that would turn up inebriated and say a few words no one would quite understand, all customers were polite and friendly to us. I stayed there for nearly 2 years purely out the joy it would give me working with such bunch. I only ended up leaving as the restaurant closed doors and was eventually sold. Piyush moved to Birmingham and then to Manchester where he now lives.

I decided to stop working weekends and have some rest time. I confess I didn’t know what to do with myself for a while but ended up embracing the great delight of doing absolutely nothing and I loved it. 

On the other hand, the desire of owning my own house started to get to me. I started to do the math and it would be absolutely impossible for me to save enough for the deposit only on my current salary. It's not a bad salary but it's far from enough for amount I need. 

So I decided to start looking for a second job again but nothing would come up. Either was far away or the hours wouldn’t match what I was looking for; there was always something. Until one day I went for a meal at a pub close to town and saw a sign saying they were hiring. Spoke to the manager, went for a trial the next weekend and 2 hours later I was told that the job was mine. Ended up doing a 6 hour shift that same evening.

On my second day (Saturday, lunch time), the place was packed! I won’t say the name for obvious reasons, but this is not exactly like your local. It’s a bit of a posh place and a mixture of pub with restaurant. There’s an outside area with chairs and tables and the view and the place itself is lush. The staff is also lovely! I have been blessed in that regard! Manager, colleagues, everyone is lush and there’s a really good atmosphere within the staff.

So on my second shift I was serving a couple. As I said, the place was packed, I was on a fast pace and I didn’t sat down for 4 hours. Allow that to sink in. FOUR hours, non-stop. Almost running and always serving food, going back and forth. So this couple rightly complained about their starters as they didn’t came out exactly as it should because of the cheese. I apologised, explained what happened (after speaking with the Chef who gave me a flash lesson on cheese so I could pass the information on) and offered to replace the starter with a new one and take that item off their bill. They were polite and said thank you but requested only for it to be taken out of the bill as the mains would be coming out shortly so no point.

Shortly after serving their mains, rushed back again inside to pick up more food for other customers when I was stopped by the guy who said his girlfriend’s food was cold. I was livid. Considering this place is a bit posh, I was expecting to deal with customers who are used to a certain level of service and for them to be a bit posh as well.

However, nothing prepared me to see him throw the plate with the food at the bar, cursing and shouting at me that now he had to give his burger to his girlfriend so she could eat something. I asked my manager to come and help me sort the situation as I’m not used to be cursed at and I believe it’s unnecessary.

To my  surprise, my manager spoke very calmly, picked up the plate, said he would be removing it from his bill and walked away. I swear I didn’t know what to do at that point! Do I stay here and continue to speak with the customer and apologise again or do I follow my manager?  

Considering how rude he was and because I was in no mood to be cursed at again, I walked away and followed  my manager all the way back to the kitchen whilst watching him making an effort not to explode and respond to a customer on the same tone.

He was sticking his fingers inside the chicken pie, looked at me and said “This is boiling. Feel it.” – I followed his lead and placed my fingers on the pie.

And yes, it was boiling and considering it was a proper summer day in Bristol that day it was close to impossible for the pie to be cold. I looked at him and shake my head not knowing what to say. He looked at me with his shoulders straight, a serious face but with the utmost integrity, looked at me and said “Sometimes, in this industry you simply can’t win.”

I couldn’t help of remember a part of the Maid in Manhattan movie with Jennifer Lopez (I’m a fan and yes I’ve seen that movie more than once that’s how I know this part Lol) when Lionel (her manager) says to her: "To serve people takes dignity and intelligence. But remember, they are only people with money. And although we serve them, we are not their servants.” This was a reality check for me and the ugly truth that money doesn’t buy anyone matters.

Next time you go to a pub or a restaurant, remember to be respectful to the person who’s serving you. One of my colleagues is a French Science teacher who moved here only for a few months simply because he fancied a change. In September he will be going back teaching. Remember you are dealing with people who also have red blood running through their veins and have feelings and are made out of flesh and bones.

Tip your waiter or waitress. Not because you have to, but because it’s a sign of your personal appreciation for the service you just received; because people who earn minimum wage struggle and that can make a difference on their lives. Because you don’t know if the person standing right in front of you has their legs shaking from standing up so many hours and yet they make an effort to smile at you.

If you can’t afford to tip that’s ok. But at least be kind and respectful. That doesn’t cost you a penny. Just like the smile of your waiter isn’t being paid for. They smile because they want to. Remember that.

Me and my sweet friend Piyush

Mortgage Part 1

After two years of no letters, I’m now writing two days in a row. Let’s see if I can keep up with regular posts. As I wrote yesterday, I promised that I would write in relation to the part-time I got recently as I am saving money to buy a house.

Firstly, it’s important to state that buying a house doesn’t come cheap in the UK, especially in Bristol. Only last year, the house prices have risen a ridiculous 6.7%, meaning that Bristol is just behind London and Cambridge when it comes to increases in house prices. This means that the average price of a house is now around £220,000.00 (yes, two hundred and twenty thousand pounds for your average 2 bedroom house. I know, trust me, it kills me too.).

One of the problems with this? The initial deposit banks require you to have when you’re looking to take out a mortgage is rarely less than 10% of the value of the property. So, even if you are looking to buy a property worth £200k, you’ll still need to have £20k in cash to put down immediately.

Another problem with this? Wages don’t rise 6% per annum, which makes it very complicated for people to save the necessary funds in order to give their 10% deposit. Just out of curiosity, the latest figures from the ONS (Office for National Statistics) dated early 2016, show an average wage growth of 2% per annum on weekly earners and obviously, the BoE (Bank of England) monitors this closely for signs of inflation.

But back to mortgages as I struggle to understand why would anyone be so fascinated with these figures as much as I do! Most of the people who are now buying a property are either buying it off from their parents with a lower yield (ie their parents have a lower rate of return by selling it to their son/daughter than they would if they were to sell it in the market), allowing them to get a mortgage with a much more substantial lower deposit and also secure a lower interest rate as they are technically getting a bargain. If they don’t keep up with the re-payments, the house gets repossessed by the lender who can then sell it at a lower price than market price in order to arrange a quick sale, but a price high enough to make a profit out of it. Same as it is everywhere. The higher the risk, the greater the interest rate you have to pay to a lender.

If your parents don’t have a second property you can buy off from, but have savings then it’s “Mum and Dad’s Bank” entering the scene. Parents either give or lend to their children the 10% they need to purchase a house. Some Inheritance Tax advice is sought here as there may be tax implications, but I’m not going anywhere near that subject here.

If you’re like me and don’t fall under any of the two categories I just described, you proceed to get a second job – no matter how shit it is – and try to save as much as you can. You know your effort will be well worth it in the end.

There are Government schemes for savers if you are a first time buyer which can help you get on the house ladder; unfortunately I’m not eligible as I committed the big, huge and massive mistake of buying a house in Lisbon a few years ago and because of that I am now faced with this challenge: save enough money for a house deposit with no help at all.

There are a lot of variables one needs to take in consideration whilst contemplating the possibility of buying a property. Working in my industry I am probably biased but… Location, location, location!

A property is an asset which has a value attached to it and the location is something that will either make a property increase in value over time or conversely, decrease it – which in that case you’ll have what we call “negative equity”. It doesn’t mean you’re in debt, but you are left with an asset (and paying for it - your mortgage), but no it’s no longer worth the price you initially paid for. Like cars. Cars always go down in value. So making the right choice in relation the location of a property is a big factor to take in consideration.

A funny thing about the UK system when it comes down to renting a property (or owning it actually!) is the council tax. The council tax is what we refer in Portugal as IMI (Imposto Municipal sobre Imoveis) with the “slightly” difference that it’s paid by the tenant, not the home owner. The amount of council tax you pay is directly connected to:

11.       How many people live in the household;

22.       The value of the property.

The council tax bill is the citizens’ way of helping to pay for local services like emergency services, rubbish collections, libraries, schools, street lights, etc.

But I am deviating from what I wanted to write in the first place… My part-time job!

I’ll have to leave it for another time. Next post. I promise. 

Working in the UK - my story

The last time I wrote on this blog was just over two years ago. So much has happened since then. So many changes, so many people have crossed my path that left as quickly as they entered. Not for any specific reason, only because that’s the way life sometimes works.

I have been in the UK nearly three years now and every time I think about it I get slightly stunned because it doesn’t feel like three years at all. In some ways it feels longer and in others, it feels less.

When I last wrote I was working for an insurance company. I hated it. Absolutely hated it. I didn’t like the job and it was miles away from my house; considering I didn’t had a car at the time, took me absolute ages to get there and get back. However, the people I worked with were absolutely amazing and I am still quite close with a few of them. We went from being colleagues to being actual friends.

From there – via my manager at the time – I had the chance to leave that job and get back to my industry – financial services. He knew how unhappy I was working in Insurance and when he was told about a project closer to home and within my expertise, he put my name forward and I was invited to attend in interview. I got the job but unfortunately that project was relocated to London just a few months later and as I wasn’t keen on leaving Bristol (like everyone else in my team), we were all made redundant.

From there I proceed to work for one of the biggest banks in the world where I stayed for 1 year and a half, before leaving and join a SME (Small and Medium Enterprise) that specialises in a very niche area of financial services. I did it for two reasons:

1.       Working for a Bank that big, your work gets unnoticed, there is no way you can make a difference (I tried, it didn’t end well) and there were too many egos around from people whose only purpose in life is to feed their ego by mistreating staff members. I can’t cope with that and I was getting more depressed by the day;

2.       Working for that SME would give me the rare opportunity of working for a niche market where there is not a great deal of information around and therefore I would be able to enhance my skills and gain that knowledge.

Unfortunately – as I came to realise – people with big egos and small minds can show up no matter how big or small a firm is and that SME ended up being a disappointment. I worked countless hours without asking for overtime because I genuinely felt that the point was to take pride in my work ethics and ensuring the clients would receive the best outcome possible considering the amount of fees charged by the firm. How stupid was I? I know but hey, you live and you learn. On the other hand, there’s nothing quite like coming home, laying your head on your pillow and feeling good about yourself. Knowing that you’ve done for someone what you would like for someone do for you (if it was the other way around) is priceless. There’s no price tag on that. It’s your own pride.

But anyway, having work ethics doesn’t take you far if you work with big egos and small minds and I left that company 6 months after joining. Worth mentioning that people with big egos were not even a hand full. Nonetheless, the detrimental effect that people like that can cause on the long term, is substantial.

I am currently working for another SME in the same industry as the previous (with some differences especially in relation to the type and nature of investments the client can obtain but I’m not going to get into the technical details and financial jargon as there is no point) and I am so happy. I work with people who are all committed with the client, who are all committed in working together; building the firm together and most importantly, they care about their staff members.

Never ever I was verbally abused here, never ever was I ever made feel that my opinion and ideas are useless and that the effort I put in my work is unnoticed. On the contrary, just a couple of months after joining I completed two sets of training for staff, I have a career plan designed by my line manager and the way he conducts the team subsequently has a positive effect throughout the business. All departments work together with the same goal in mind: the customer.

Everything happens for a reason. And I feel so blessed to be where I am now.

There’s a well-known expression that goes like this “Had to kiss a lot of frogs before finding my prince charming”; well, I believe the same could be applicable to my current work status.

I sometimes think how my career was boosted in less than three years. It’s light years away from what it could ever be boosted in Portugal unless I knew person, X, Y or Z. Well, not weird really. Here, if you work hard, you will be rewarded – unless you work with people with big egos and small minds! Then you’ll probably face a lot of challenges and brick walls and doors slamming in your face. I would advise you to leave, if you’re in that situation. It’s a waste of your dedication and energy.

The UK (in relation to work) it’s a bit like America (land of the free and land of opportunities) but in a European style. Probably a bit classier. Oh and with tea. An awful lot of tea!

At this point in time, I am saving to buy a house. I have a part-time on the weekends as in order to get a mortgage in the UK, you need – in average – about 10% of the value of the house in cash to give as a deposit. I started my first shift this weekend and oh boy, do I have stories already! But I’ll leave those stories for another day J