Back in the summer of 1996, me and my friend packed our bags and headed for Heathrow airport. This was the start of an experience of a lifetime. We boarded a Gulf Air flight and headed to the bright lights of Hong Kong. Only being twenty years old, I was going through the “I think I know everything” phase, when in reality I was in the middle of the “don’t know much, but want to rule the world (and drink beer)” phase.

Anyway, like a lot of Brits in Hong Kong, we spent as much time as we could in the bars earning money. (We then spent as much time as we could, in the bars spending it) But that’s all we wanted. After all life was simple. At first this was great, but we soon ran out of money. That’s when the fun really began.

It was about three weeks into our adventure when reality hit home. W'ed already run out of money. We hadn’t eaten in three days, owed a nights rent to the hostel owner and weren’t going to be paid for about another week. We were half way around the world and had no help what-so-ever. Where was my home comforts, a clean pair of trousers, a nice Sunday roast, a comfortable bed and above all, my family. For the first time in my life I couldn’t hide behind my mates, I couldn’t run to my mum. I was on my own.

It was then that I matured. I can’t remember the exact moment, but it happened over a period of about three days. My outlook on life changed. One week I was a boy, the next I was a man. It wasn’t any one thing, but more a combination of them all. For the first time ever, I realised life wasn’t easy. It had to be worked at. I had to learn from my mistakes the hard way, but most of all, I had to learn fast.

Tonight, for the first time in ten years, I had that same feeling. It’s now thirteen weeks without a win. Thirteen weeks without a glimmer of hope. Thirteen weeks as a loser. My bankroll is now $435 and still falling. I’m now out of my comfort zone and I’m going to sink or swim. My bankroll is at the opposite side of the world to where I want it to be. I have nowhere to hide, no one to blame.

So what do I do? Ten years ago I had a contingency plan. It was called “a return ticket to England”. I don’t have that now. I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow in my own bed. I’m can’t look forward to a Sunday roast, or a clean pair of jeans. The only way I’m getting out of this mess is the hard way. Good honest work, dedication and commitment. Hell, I’ve dug such a big hole, I’ve bought my own shovel.

But I’ve never been a quitter. I’ve always seen things through. I’m not one to sit in the corner, if anything I come out fighting. This is one of those times. There are gamblers out there far worse than me and they pull through.

So this is the moment of truth. Have I matured the last few weeks or am I kidding myself? I need to sit down with a plan. A proper, realistic, good old, plain and simple plan. One that’s going to give me some direction and a little “confidence boost”. I need a few pointers, a little “nudge” in the right direction.

I’m gonna give this one a little more thought. I’m gonna have to be quick. Christmas is just around the corner.

I’ll keep you posted…………………