Chris’ father was a mechanic who had taught others how to drive and maintain tanks during World War II, and who steadily worked his way up in the automotive industry, eventually becoming a director of a car dealership. Chris’ mother was a home-maker who had worked in a parachute factory as part of the Women’s Auxiliary during the War, and who eventually returned to work when both her sons were older. Although his parents lived a rather traditional family lifestyle, Chris adopted the adage, “Work to live, don’t live to work”, feeling inside himself that, somehow, he had been born in the wrong place.

Sport played a central part in Chris’ childhood as his father was the captain of the local cricket team, who, although a talented sportsman, failed in his ambition to become a professional cricketer.  Chris has fond childhood memories of weekends at the cricket club, as his father attempted to foster the cricketing talents of his sons, one who batted left-handed but bowled with his right, and the other who batted right-handed but bowled with his left, a conundrum for the opposing team when the brothers eventually played together. With much training from his father, Chris became a highly accurate bowler who demanded vigilance from opposing batsmen. Perhaps Chris was pushed too hard, too fast, playing in the adult competition as just a gangly 12-year-old. Chris still recalls the terror of batting against a team of policemen, facing balls bowled at speeds almost beyond his comprehension, and the compassion of one wicket-keeper who deliberately failed to remove the bails and dismiss the poor youngster. Chris eventually mustered the courage to disappoint his dad with the news that he was giving up cricket in favour of tennis. It is ironic that the clincher in one of Chris’ earliest job interviews for an accountancy position was not his hard-earned qualifications, but rather the fact that the firm’s cricket team would surely benefit from the addition of a decent left-hand bowler.

Sport plays a significant role in Chris’ life to this day.  He enjoys a social round of golf, even preferring to walk rather than take the golf cart, risking being labelled as crazy by fellow golfers and caddies alike.  Chris also admits to being a one-eyed supporter of the Luton Football Club, trying never to miss any of their matches.  He will get up in the small hours of the morning to catch games streamed live, and has even flown back to the UK to catch significant matches for them. Chris finds the local derby of Luton and its nearby rival Watford a must-see, and if Luton were only to win a single match in a season, as long as they beat Watford, that would be fine by him.

At school, Chris was hard-working.  His good results he puts down to perspiration rather than inspiration, though he knew that mathematically at least, he was well in advance of his peers.  Chris mastered his times-tables by the age of five and eventually was tasked with other duties during maths classes because the teacher was unable to cater to his needs, instead preferring to issue him a trundle wheel to measure the distances between local points of interest in the community. Having a particular skill with mental arithmetic, in high school, Chris was pointed to a career in accountancy by the career’s advisor and is still somewhat perplexed at how long he worked in this field, given he thinks accountancy and auditing to be deathly dull and boring. He concurs with the Monty Python’s Flying Circus assessment of accountants “being too boring to be of interest”.

After completing his O-levels, Chris headed to the University of East Anglia in Norwich, to complete an Economics degree. The last few years of high school were tough for Chris.  His friendship group already graduated, Chris found himself lonely and adrift.  Starting university, Chris established a new circle of friends and began to enjoy himself again. By the end of his first year, somewhat to his mother’s surprise, her calm, patient son turned into a party-animal. However,Chris was still focused on the goal, made as an early teenager, of finding the “passport out” of the UK, which was too dull, too cold and too grey for his liking.

Once graduated, the partying stopped as Chris crammed, nights and weekends across three years, for his qualification as a Chartered Accountant, while working full-time. A whizz with numbers who can recite from memory his passport, credit card and other membership numbers, Chris was able to assimilate and then regurgitate the reams of information necessary to obtain his “passport to freedom” at first attempt. Chris was headed to foreign shores, employment with an internationally-renowned accountancy firm in Hong Kong already secured. Chris and his girlfriend married three days before their departure, an action Chris now admits might have been precipitous, since he was only 24 at the time.

Although Chris was on a long-anticipated path, and enjoying every moment of his new life in Hong Kong, he couldn’t help but see that his wife wasn’t as blissfully happy within a new culture as he was. Chris tried to help her adjust yet she remained ill-at-ease, distressed at not having friends or family close by. They entertained the idea of a transfer to other foreign destinations, spending time trying work and collecting job offers, in places such as Singapore and Australia but Chris knew these were not going to assuage his wife’s pain either, so he agreed to move back to the UK.  Working with a number of accountancy firms, both large and small, led to business success, with Chris becoming aware of how much he enjoyed the personal interactions and connections he was able to make as he advanced in his career and took on leadership roles.

Eventually Chris and a pair of colleagues were comfortable in establishing their own company, Unica, whose mission statement, proudly displayed on business documents read, “Make quite a lot of dosh and have a good giggle doing it”. Their company was deliberately unlike any other in the field, and did not want for customers, as it was not just all about the numbers.  While being back in the UK was not ideal for Chris, a number of personal highlights happened during this time, headlined by the birth of his children, Charlotte, now 33, and then Sam, 28. Chris was learning how to make his staff feel valued at the same time as flexing his wings as a father, an experience he proved to be rather good at.

In 2005, Chris arrived in Bangkok, newly single and fairly quickly stuck up a friendship with a young Thai woman he met. From the very first meeting Chris felt comfortable in Nee’s company, a rare event for Chris. The pair’s friendship became stronger over a period of three or four months as they chatted in her workplace, despite the fact that Nee stated she was not interested in a relationship with a foreigner, or indeed any relationship at all. However, Chris’ persistence eventually paid off, with a nervous Nee bringing her cousin as chaperone on their first date, a practice not uncommon in Thai culture. Nee is Chris’ best friend, companion, lover, wife and soulmate, Chris still surprised at just how similar they are in thinking, values and world-view despite differences in their ages and cultures. The pair have been together now for 19 years, Nee having established a firm place in the family, loved and appreciated by Chris’ parents, both now deceased, as well as his children.

While romantically the move to Thailand was totally positive for Chris, it involved a short-term career sacrifice for Chris, who had to start in Thailand at a spot much lower on the corporate ladder than he was used to.  However, his financial skills, along with his talent as a natural team-builder and leader, saw him rise again relatively quickly.  Chris confided that in the industry, all those who rose to leadership positions in the West did so by being dominant, aggressive and bullying, however, he got the reputation for being a “nice bastard”, his calm demeanour suiting Asia well. When Chris stepped away from full-time work in September 2017 at the age of only 55, his work team in one of the “big four” international accountancy firms gave him a beautiful gift to thank him for his mentoring, guidance and leadership.  Chris was touched that the words from the team acknowledged him as a father-figure: “We could not have asked for a better dad than you.”

Chris’ greatest achievement has been rebuilding himself a happy life in Thailand, starting out with just a couple of suitcases.  When he left the UK after his divorce, Chris sold his property and divested himself of most of his worldly possessions. He is glad now he had the foresight to leave a box of his favourite records at his parents’ home, which he intends to retrieve to play on the vintage turntable Nee recently purchased for him.

Chris has been living in Hua Hin in a permanent capacity since his retirement.  He first began weekending here from Bangkok in 2006/7, initially buying a condo as a weekend base in 2011. Chris, Nee and the cat which adopted them now live the retirement life in a comfortable house. Chris is not one to do nothing, however, and has allowed himself to be talked into returning to work in an advisory capacity which mainly takes him an hour or so a day from home, though can require full-days in succession at the time of quarterly reporting.

For Chris, every new day brings with it the opportunity to learn more. He takes pride in his inquisitive nature, and feels that “confused is a good place to be”, while physically, Hua Hin is in his “Goldilocks zone”, having a little bit of everything and not too much of anything. One thing the Hua Hin area does offer is the chance to help those in need.  Chris and Nee support a small school near the Myanmar border.  Founded by one admirable individual, the school caters for around 20 students, aged from three to 17 years-of-age, stateless children of refugees who have no access to education or health care in Thailand.  The couple’s support sees them periodically loading a truck with food, clothing items and personal care essentials and driving it to the school.  Chris is always amazed and encouraged by the joy he sees in the faces of children who have so little, yet aim so high, two of the students now enrolled in university courses, hoping to bring their skills and knowledge back to their local villages.

In the past, Chris’ introverted nature saw him miss opportunities, so Chris now embraces new offering such a men’s coffee group.  Chris and Nee have continued regular travel post-covid. Naxos and some other of the lesser-known, less touristy Greek islands are still calling, and Chris and Nee remain eager to answer. Serenely content with his life in Hua Hin, Chris is more than satisfied he followed his intuition and escaped England to find a life that truly suits him in a place where he feels he belongs. Chris is now as happy as a pig in mud.