Autobiographical

Apologies once again for ruining the chronology of this tale. I have been remiss in omitting some events that had a positive impact. The first one brings to mind a Scottish friend who stayed with us in Hampstead – Angus MacDonald, who hailed from a prosperous family. In exchange I was invited to stay with his family and go horse riding, which was good until my nag decided to canter and then gallop. Luckily I managed to cling on. Clearly I was not made out to be a jockey.

In addition, I was afforded at the age of 15 the opportunity to work for the first time at his father’s company for a few days for the princely amount of 60 pounds, which seemed a lot back then. It was around Christmas and on the last day, 24 December, I was invited to a party where I imbibed a lot of alcohol, sleeping it off on the train. Not content with this excess, in the evening I went with school friends to a local pub where they kindly bought me five pints, in particular, a particularly strong version.  Apart from the excessive alcohol in the system, the only problem was a promise I had made to my sister to go to Midnight Mass with her. A promise I naturally didn’t keep.

Another story post A levels also springs to mind. In summer 1981 Etienne’s mother asked my parents if her now fifteen-year old son could stay at our place for a week to improve his English. I was told to talk him solely in English. I promised to do my best. However, Etienne played dumb and feigned ignorance. So we conversed in French. Then I introduced him to my friends Chris and John. Unfortunately, they too ended up having to try to speak French. However, one afternoon we were walking towards Ealing Broadway and saw 30 girls on Ealing Green. The perfect opportunity.

We decided to approach them and suggested that they go to the cinema with us. It transpired that half of them were French. It was a bit surreal for the two of us going to the cashier accompanied by 30 girls. I ended up sitting next to Catherine. The film was Chariots of Fire. However, I don’t recall any of the movie. Catherine and I stayed in touch as friends for many years to come. Etienne’s English didn’t improve and I apologised to his mother in person with some choice pastries from a Parisian boulangerie a few years later.

In January 1982 I had a lot of time on my hands before potential admission to university in September. So while waiting for responses from other universities, I worked for the temp agency Manpower in a variety of short-term menial positions, primarily washing pots and pans at Heathrow Airport, but only until June. 

I had applied the previous year to a camp site in the south of France where we had gone camping for a week as a family instead of Italy. I received in March an offer of a three-month contract and the opportunity to make some cash. Camping de La Dune in Arcachon, Bordeaux, was located right in front of Europe’s tallest sand dune, still over 106 metres above sea level in 2018. It was breathtaking and a different world. In addition, I worked in the evenings as an usher at an outdoor cinema. By the end of my time there I felt more self-confident, driven by the fact that I had been forced to get out of my comfort zone – from introvert to extrovert. I highly recommend anyone suffering from shyness to take the plunge – you have nothing to lose!

It looked at the time as if France would dominate my future. I loved and still love the language, culture and general laid-back attitude to life. I also have to this day two good French friends and a number of French people among my acquaintances. However, as time will tell, appearances can be deceptive.

Painting by Kazakh artist Manas Kisamedinov