Nuneaton Escape Bookshelf: Brian's Shelf

Early Memories: One of my first memories (true, or “remembered” from hearing about it so often) is of a street party to mark the end of the war in 1945, I would have been three. I sat in our hall and looked out the opened door at a table in the middle of the street laden with food and lots of really happy people. I remember as a child, having gas lights in our house. You had to be very careful when lighting them, as the gas mantles were very fragile. Also, when we first had electric lights in our house, it was hard to believe that when you pressed the switch down, the room lit up. We spent quite some time just going from room to room switching our lights on and off. I never saw the sea until I was about 13 years old. We lived in Leamington Spa and we went on a day trip to the seaside organised by a local pub.

Early Adventures: Way back in 1971, Barry, a good friend of mine, had been trying for about three years to set off on an adventure to travel overland to Australia. When he asked me if I would be interested, I thought about it, and then told him “yes”. We made plans and prepared, eventually obtaining visas for the countries we intended crossing, but then there was a war in Pakistan and we couldn’t get a visa to enter. We could have gone through Russia but we didn’t fancy that, so we changed our destination and decided we would head for South Africa, crossing the Sahara Desert in our old Ford Anglia. Barry was a language teacher and I was quite “happy” coping with European languages. I was a Patternmaker, Inspect and Quality Engineer, I spoke just English. We set off in our little old Anglia with our two man tent, sleeping bags and provisions, and had a great time driving through France, Spain and Portugal leisurely, but we realised we were “eating” into our funds, though living very cheaply. Having looked for work, we found only poorly paid, long hour, jobs, so we decided to travel to Germany where Barry knew someone whose father owned a factory. Upon arriving, we were given lodgings and the possibility of working in the factory, but we needed a work permit which we had to get from England. We drove back to England, and having thought about the situation, decided to go to Dublin, get jobs, and earn money until after Christmas and head off again at the best time to cross the Sahara. Barry got a teaching job straight away, I applied for several engineering jobs but found I was too well qualified for them, so did painting and decorating for family and friends, then soon obtained a job working in a Sheltered Workshop for “Mentally Handicapped” adults (as they were called in those days). I loved it and eventually became a Manager of a Pottery section where we produced cast pottery and sold it on the open market. Barry, by this time, decided to carry on with his teaching job and we found a cheap flat to rent on the Quays (opposite the Guiness Brewery). Through Barry I met Hazel, a teaching colleague, and we became friends and eventually husband and wife. Our old Anglia “sat down” on us one day and we scrapped it. Barry checked the mileage and worked out that we had continued our “journey” we would have been about halfway across the Sahara Desert when it “expired”. Some weeks later, we were contacted by the Guardi as our car had been involved in an unlawful act and we were the last known owners. We managed to sort it out!

An Epic Journey: Though 1974 was to be one of the most important years of my life, as it was the year I was married, the following year proved to be quite difficult, my father died in April on my brother’s 30th birthday, some seven weeks before our daughter was born. We had planned to go to Jordanstown in Northern Ireland in a matter of weeks, as I had been offered a place at college there to gain a teaching qualification, as I had taught the previous year as a Technical Drawing and Woodwork teacher although non-qualified, but accepted on my industrial experience and qualifications. At the end of the year I had been replaced by a qualified teacher. Having attempted to study in a college in Southern Ireland without success, as I was too old (being over 30), hence my place in Northern Ireland. Upon writing to Jordanstown to confirm start dates etc. I received a prompt reply stating that I no longer had a place, as one of my qualifications was Second Class rather than First Class. Hazel had resigned from her job we had handed in notice to vacate our flat, and we had our young baby…OUR WORLD COLLAPSED!!! We later discovered that it was a political decision because of the “situation” in Northern Ireland. Hazel withdrew her resignation, we withdrew our notice on the flat, and I became a house husband looking after Rachel. We survived! I applied to colleges in England, spoke to my mother, and plans were made for us to go to live with my mother for a short time. We gathered our few possessions and packed what we could in our VW Beetle, with our baby daughter in her pram body on the back seat, surrounded by our belongings. We had no jobs, no idea what the future held, though hopes of good news from my college applications. We set sail for England, feeling like pioneers! We arrived in Leamington Spa and within weeks I had obtained a place in a college in Birmingham for the following year, got a job as an engineer inspector in Coventry, and found my mother had become more “alive” being able to concentrate on her new granddaughter. We scoured the local paper to acquire second hand furniture, which my mother happily stored for us, and within six months had bought a house and moved to New Arley, from where I could commute to Coventry and Birmingham.

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