Some friends are just too persistent!

Ten and more years ago, when I lived and worked in West Africa and lived on a diet of gin and tonic and beer, I topped 16 stone.

My life was not sedentry: I walked to and from my car and often excercised my arm when lifting food to my mouth.

I know that because my job involved flying about the place in charter planes. Now West African airstrips are a bit behind the times when it comes to the ‘passenger experience’. They weigh you very publicly before every flight. They don’t weigh you on landing, and a trip on a little plane through a thunder-storm is a wonderful emitic.

Be that as it may I was a little large at the time and the Good Lord smote me by making me a type 2 diabetic: I want to talk to Him about that!

I’ve been back in Europe for more than 10 years now and though the diabetes hangs about like a bad smell, I’m down to 14stone 13.

And that’s my friendly pound – 14stone 13. It comes and goes but never stays away. I got rid of him and went on holiday. When I came home he was back in residence and had brought friends of his own.