White Wining

After 18 months away ive returned to continue what I started back in December 2007. The purpose was to help me tell my tale of excess refreshment and the excessive hypocrisy that followed.

Bristol wasnt a bad place to grow up by any stretch of the imagination. I put my future academic achievements wholeheartedly down to my primary school. Westbury-on-Trym Primary School was a small school in a northern suburb of Bristol that was walking distance from my home. I arrived in 1977 in polyester trousers and red jumper and left in 1984 still wearing polyester trousers and a red jumper. I hasten to add they werent one and the same set of attire as my original uniform was being worn by my poor brother some 4 years behind me.

The school creates fond memories for me. I really did enjoy it. Each class was named afer a river in the South West. The lower the year the smaller the river, I wont bore you with the names, actually I will, Trym, Avon, Frome, King Sedgemores Drain, Wye, Severn.

There are three people I remember from school, Mr Royfe who was simply the best teacher I ever had, Becky Ives, my first girlfriend (aged 7!) who funnily enough did become my girlfriend again at 15 ableit briefly and Alice Roberts, she off the tele (Coast and other bits and pieces). I remember Alice because she was and I suspect still is an artist of some significant talent. She won an art competition and had her picture on the front of the christmas Radio Times if I remember. I also recall her becuase like me she went to med school and like me has found a successful career outside of clinical medicine. I think she probably earns a bit more than me though, then again I dont have to travel round the world visiting exciting and dangerous places and getting paid for it, what a relief!


Primary School was also a time where it became very apparent that I was slightly different from all the other kids. I didnt have a father. They all seemed to have a dad but I didnt. Nowadays the rate of divorce is such that kids at school probably feel out of place if they do have a loving caring parents but back then it wasnt like that. I didnt get bullied and I dont recall any nasty remarks but I suspect that was because I lied. I lied for the entire time I was in primary school. Yes I had a dad, which ws technically and genetically true I suppose but I elaborated and instead of saying he was a cowardly weak individual for just 'doing one' on us I said he was around he just worked alot. Now I know that my mother was friends with the mothers of my friends and lets be honest mothers dont have an understanding of the psyche of a complex 7 year old, so no doubt didnt think she needed to check with her son regarding the coo berating of a fictous father so I suspect everyone knew all along but didnt have the heart to tell me.

In the end the lie died when I went to secondary school. That wasnt such a nice place. Ill save that for next time.