Ken Aspinall, who taught me French for my last two years at school, was also the first to teach a German course there. As a result of that, I tried (badly) to speak the language with a young German, who was doing voluntary work at a hospital, where I worked for two and a half years in the seventies. Gerd has long since been my best friend and this led to my first forays into Köln and the world of busking. It is a chain of events, which I never could have forseen, but when I go back to Cornwall now, I always look up Ken and go for a pint.
At college, I met Geoff Sutton, my writing tutor, who had the gift of being able to cut straight to the chase and dissect my work without a hint of malice. He was (and still is) interested in everything from sport, to politics, to music (he may know as much about rock music as I do - but he also knows about jazz, classical and folk music too) and any number of subjects. He was still hill walking and driving around Europe in his seventies. He is one of the most alert, compassionate and critical people whom I have ever met.
I count myself as very lucky to know these two men.