...please, come into the kitchen, take a seat...
'I am not interested where you come from. I am not interested in the colour of your skin. I am not interested in the value or reputation of what you wear. I am only interested in your value as a person, your inner worth.'
Alexander the Great 356 - 323BCE Macedonian Ruler.
In that case here goes...
I was born in Croydon and brought up in Liverpool and my childhood and schooling was fun - I even gained some GCEs. Around the age of sixteen, I found myself in the Cavern club and the enthusiasm and bare-faced cheek of our local pop groups, (they weren't bands until the mid-seventies), gave me a confidence I could never gain in school. In the early sixties, some of my best mates and I formed our own group and we became The Pikkins (that's me on the right).
We played several times a week under the close scrutiny of 250+ other rival Merseyside groups in clubs throughout Liverpool, the Northwest, Wales and even as far south as Solihull Ice Rink, until we passed an audition to cross the channel to tour US bases in France and Germany. We did it for fun, without egotism or comparison - honest. About the same time we graduated to playing at the Cavern and my writing began in earnest. With a selection of exercise books detailing my experiences in the band, I submitted a piece to a local newspaper about the Liverpool music scene and, to my surprise, it was accepted.But I never really felt at home in the city so I moved to Cornwall in the seventies and found work wherever I could. In jobs such as Insurance Salesman; Barman; Waiter; Cowboy Chef; Cook on Diving Boat; Courier in Local Council; Manager of Art College Bar; Teaching Assistant, Census Agent and Mobile Library Assistant. Invited by a friend I had made on the American bases, I spent several months backpacking through California and Hawaii and subsequently fell in love with travelling. But it was Greece that had my eye. From my first visit, years before, I had became so enthralled by all things Hellenic I knew it as my true destination. I had to be there...in that place...that very place.
Then, during the summer of my fiftieth birthday, I intended on adventure, working and driving round middle Europe in my VW campervan. So one bright morning when the wind was favourable, I made sacrifice to the gods, boarded my 'Villa Zorbus' and set off for Hungary. From the stern of a channel ferry, I watched the isles of Britain disappear over the horizon and turned to get some rest, unaware the gods had other ideas. From distant Greece the Sirens song pulled me from Cornwall, through France and Italy, from Brindisi across the Adriatic to Igoumenitsa over the Pindos and up to Thessaloniki, then by ferry down to Crete where we landed just after midnight. Somehow I found myself outside The Villa Ariadne, where I turned off the engine and soundly slept in the resin-scented car park. All at once I could breathe again.
I stayed on the island and worked the season until I could stay no longer. I just had to leave.
Cooking in a Cretan kitchen can induce madness, as anyone will tell you.
But they say that just when things are at their worst in Greece, suddenly you are consoled from an unexpected direction.
One morning, out of the blue, came an invitation to join a friend working with underprivileged kids in Hungary. I could hardly believe it. That same day I sold my beloved camper and set off for what was to become one of the most positive and enlivening three months of my life. When it was time to come home I discovered I'd lost my return ticket but somehow hitched a ride back on the pillion of a Yamaha 1200 as far as Brighton.
Upon returning to Falmouth, I started work in the local arts college managing the Student Union bar. I met Sandra, my wife to be, working in the college library. We started going for walks, exploring Cornwall and falling in love. We were married the following year and spent our honeymoon on the island of Karpathos. That winter, I painted the picture of two musicians we met on our travels. I am proud to say it is now the cover illustration for my book.
Three years ago we moved into our daffy old cottage on the Lizard Peninsular, the most southerly point in Britain, where we grow vegetables and fruit, and sometimes just sit in the garden and listen to it hum.
To date, I think I have enough jottings and scribblings in my backpack for at least half a dozen other novels and I'll probably start work on them tomorrow, er...maybe after lunch.
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