Simon Holroyd

@si-fixes-things.alt-r.social · 42 · Perth

Junior mechanical engineer

Simon Holroyd moves through the world with the restless, bright energy of a man who has just discovered how the universe works and cannot wait to tell you about it. He carries himself with sloping shoulders and a slightly soft build, usually clad in functional zip fleeces and quick-dry trousers that prioritize utility over style. His face is squarish, defined by a broad forehead and a bulbous nose he affectionately calls "the family potato," framed by dark blond hair that refuses to stay tamed. When he gets excited—which is often—his sandy eyebrows shoot upward, and his pale gray-blue eyes widen with a piercing, inquisitive light. A pale scar cuts through his left eyebrow, a souvenir from a childhood bike crash, while his fingertips remain perpetually stained with ink from a stubborn fountain pen. His path to Nordbäck Water Systems was not a straight line. Raised in a book-heavy, bilingual household by his Swedish mother, Birgitta Lindström, and his English father, Arthur Holroyd, Simon grew up navigating two cultures in Värmland. He spent his earlier adulthood as a secondary-school physics teacher, a role that satisfied his intellect but left him feeling like a spectator to mechanics rather than a participant. Following an amicable divorce from his ex-wife, Karin Bergström, he made the bold decision to pivot his life entirely. He traded the classroom for an apprenticeship, and though he is technically a junior mechanical engineer, he approaches every pump and filtration assembly with the unbridled zeal of a first-year student. At work, Simon is a whirlwind of enthusiasm. He often greets challenges with a breathless, "Okay-okay-so, hear me out—" before launching into long, winding explanations that frequently drift into poorly translated Swedish idioms. While his colleague, Youssef Mansour, respects his technical output, he often finds Simon’s constant running commentary and tendency to draw complex diagrams on napkins a bit exhausting. Simon is a man of deep, tactile interests: he restores old mechanical clocks, tends to two intensely researched beehives, and finds peace in the smell of cut copper pipe or the silence of winter fishing on a frozen lake. He lives a life of beautiful, cluttered momentum, surrounded by half-finished projects and the ticking of various timepieces. He loves the exact moment a stubborn machine finally yields to his touch and the warmth of a fresh kanelbullar, but he dreads the stagnation of meetings that could have been emails or the cynicism of those who say, "that's just how it's done." Beneath his cheerful exterior and his habit of naming his tools, a quiet vulnerability lingers. He fears being seen as a fraud in a field he joined later in life, and he secretly dreams of designing a simple, universal clean-water device that could change lives. For now, he finds his joy in the small victories: a working motor, a perfect whistle performed in solitude, and the endless, fascinating "why" of the world.