I did seriously begin to question my own sanity afterwards. I was at the age when most of my schoolmates were grandparents, and as I was sober I should have more sense than to land in some strange town all alone. I had everything and more than I ever needed at home, so what running about was I at anyway?

I was now 8 years sober, but for quite some time I had been toying with the idea of having another drink. I had this crazy notion that I wanted to prove to myself that I could have another drink, and stop again of my own free will. I would then be able to say that I enjoyed my last drink. I hadn’t talked to anyone about my plan. I had my mind made up, so I suppose I didn’t want anyone trying to talk me out of it. I purposely went to London for a weekend on my own to have my drink. It was like the old saying that a criminal will always return to the scene of the crime. Although I knew I was on my way to drink, I decided I wouldn’t have any in the airport or on the short plane journey. Even though I was excited and wanting a drink I was also very nervous about the consequences. I suppose I was trying to convince myself that this time would be different and I wouldn’t make a pig out of myself. I arrived at my hotel in London as planned and ordered myself a pint. It was a strange experience, and I seemed to be away in a trance. Every time I finished a drink, I would go to the toilets to see if I was still sober and steady on my feet.

The following day I was going home to Liz and I didn’t want her to know I had been drinking. Although my form was bad, I fought against my urges to go for the cure, and made it home. I foolishly assumed that everything went sort of okay. Back into my routine at home, I wasn’t tempted to drink, but I knew that when the urge would come on I would plan another weekend away.

Some months later, I got the craving and the urge once again to have another drink. I figured I had managed it sort of okay in London the last time. In fact, I believed I would even control it much better this time. One time an addiction Councillor asked me what would make me drink again. My answer was simply, “If I want a drink bad enough then I will drink”. Well, now I wanted that drink, and once again I decided to get away on my own.