A Happy Memory: Playing Schubert's Piano

A Happy Memory: Playing Schubert's Piano

I recently found a photo of me, taken in February 1958, when I was still 11 years old. We were on our way back to England, via sea from Dar-es-Salaam on a Lloyd Triestino vessel (either the Europa or the Africa - I can’t remember which!) to Trieste, and then driving through Austria, Germany and France, before landing back in Blighty. In Vienna, we visited the Schubert Museum, and the curator must have seen me casting longing glances at the piano; she said, “I am going to go out of this room. What I don’t see, I know nothing about!” and made it clear I was allowed to play it. 

There were notices everywhere, with “Do Not Touch!” printed on them; rules shouldn’t be broken, but they can be bent a little, and I remember that moment to this day.

One of my Grandma’s cousins had her LRAM diploma in music, and taught piano for years. When we were in Africa, I took both Royal Academy of Music and Trinity College of Music exams; I think the RAM examiners came out just once a year, so you had only one chance to get it right! but Trinity College people came out twice a year, which took the pressure off. 

During our voyage to Trieste, our ship also called in at Venice. My Mum and I went ashore, and I was thrilled to see how Venice was built on so many islands, with the bridges across the canals connecting the houses and shops. I remember the Grand Canal and the Rialto Bridge, and lines of gondolas, some beautifully decorated, all waiting with their gondolieri, ready to ferry passengers from one place to another. 

As we walked around Venice, we saw a little shop selling jewellery, and went in to see what was on display. I fell in love with a little silver and marcasite gondola brooch, and my Mum, bless her, bought it for me. 

If you look carefully at the photo of me playing Schubert's piano, you can see the brooch, pinned on the right side of my coat; I still have it, and it is a treasured piece not just of jewellery, but of all the memories with which it has been imbued. Thank you, Mum, for recognising it would become an important part of items in my Happy Memory Chest!

My Big Eight-O Birthday!

My Big Eight-O Birthday!

Yes, I know. I haven't been writing on my blog for a little while, but I have had a very good reason for being preoccupied recently... and I celebrated my big 80th birthday on Saturday, 28th March.

It was a wonderful day. Wendy came over to collect us, and we drove into London; we had a table booked at Fortnum and Mason’s, for a cream tea. People were asking if I was going to have a big party (a couple of hundred guests, perhaps?!) but that isn’t my style – I only wanted my nearest and dearest, all my loved ones, to enjoy the day with me, and I was so contented.  

Going into London, we also had an adventure; we had not realised there was a big march due to take place. Starting at about 1.00 p.m., the Police said they were expecting up to 500,000 (!) people to march down Piccadilly, and into Trafalgar Square, all protesting and waving flags; it was good humoured, but generally made it impossible for ordinary people to drive into central London. 

 

Wendy is always resourceful, and when we realised we were not going to be able to reach our pre-booked parking reservation in Arlington Street, she said, “Right, let’s find somewhere else to park!” and we headed towards Knightsbridge (where Harrods is). Down by a side road, we saw a big sign with a “P” parking sign up; as we inched down that road, someone got into a car parked on one side, and drove off, leaving a perfect space free for us. As a bonus, we then discovered that parking in this road is FREE after 1.30 p.m. on Saturdays – so we were very grateful for that!  

 

The only thing was, we were about a mile away from Fortnum and Mason, so we set off to walk all the way down Piccadilly, to reach Fortnum and Mason! Not forgetting I was wearing silvery spangle celebration shoes, with high heels, I thought this might be a problem, but remembering what they said about Ginger Rogers ("She does everything Fred Astaire does, except she does it backwards, and in high heels!") I rose to the challenge, and arrived for my tea in good time.

 

Al and Dani came up to London by train, so they didn’t have to find parking, and oh, it was such a happy afternoon. 

I had my special, very plain sandwiches ordered: simple white bread and butter (lots of extra butter, too!) and cucumber - no sauces, oils or trimmings required - and I was well served. Of course, I also enjoyed plain scones, butter and strawberry jam, and some elegant little cakes; and then our waitress brought out a plate with "Happy 80th Birthday" written in chocolate icing on the side, and two more special little cakes on it, just for me. 

It was such a special occasion! Apart from the cream tea, I also had many dear friends write to me, sending beautiful birthday gifts and cards with happy wishes, and telephone calls so that we could talk personally and share time on my birthday. 

When we set off for home, Al and Dani went back to Victoria Station to catch the train back to Hampshire; in consideration of my heroic walk to Fortnum and Mason, we then took a taxi back to where we had left our car, all the way back up Piccadilly. 

Wendy hailed a cab (with the march over, by then traffic was flowing!) and we were soon bowling merrily along. A special bonus for Wendy was that she remembered this was the first time she had been in a London Taxi Cab since she was 8 years old! All those years ago, when she was a little girl, Wendy, her dad and I had been to the New Theatre Royal London in Drury Lane, to see the musical Cats - the show based on the poems by TS Eliot, in "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats." Brian Blessed, playing the role of Old Deuteronomy, stayed on stage during the interval, and Wendy - who knew all the music from the show, joined him and sang a couple of songs with him. Whilst Wendy was on stage, her dad, who had bought us all an ice cream cone, then had to hold both her ice cream and his own. He was so proud and thrilled for her, he forgot to eat his; he had tears of happiness running down his face, not realising both ice creams were melting in the heat of the theatre! Such a tender memory that we all hold dear. 

My Grandma used to say, we must all treasure our memories, for as we get older, we need happy times to look back on. My 80th birthday will always remain in that wonderful place. 

                                                   

       Bob, Al and Dani

       Alexandra and Wendy

                                         Apollo guarding some of my beautiful birthday cards!

Ronald Binge - A Wonderful Northern Composer

Ronald Binge - A Wonderful Northern Composer

  

Last year, I was also very busy writing various articles and poems, and my piece on a wonderful northern composer called Ronald Binge was published in the November issue of Best of British magazine. I have always felt Ronald Binge’s name is perhaps not as well-known as it should be – he was a prolific creator of wonderful music, and a thoroughly kind human being as well.  

In the article, I also mention the Günter Kallmann choir. Whilst I was living and working in Durban, the choir came out on tour; I auditioned for Günter Kallman, and in due course was offered a place in his choir. In the meantime, in a “Sliding Doors” moment, I had also met my first Bob; I followed my heart, returned to England, and was very happy - although there was the (very) odd occasion, when I did momentarily wonder what might have happened, if I had gone to Berlin and Cologne instead?  A case of “The road not taken," eh?

If I am still up and awake in the early hours of the morning, at 12.48 I love to listen to the Shipping Forecast on the radio, which is gently introduced by Ronald Binge's "Sailing By." It is a wonderfully relaxing way to drift off for a good night's sleep! 

Christmas 2025

Christmas 2025

A gentle, happy time. No fuss, no stress, lovely phone calls from our loved ones; a delicious traditional Christmas dinner - turkey, accompanied by my incomparable (so I am assured!) roast potatoes, carrots, peas, beans, Brussels sprouts, swede, Yorkshire puddings and sage and onion stuffing and, of course, gravy for any one of us that wanted it - followed by a slice of Tunis cake and a Chocolate Yule Log!

We had beautiful gifts to open and enjoy and the whole day flowed smoothly and gently. We don't like to rush!

We hope everyone for whom we love and care had an equally happy festive season; and that we shall all be blessed with a happy, healthy and prosperous 2026!

J 

The Lion City Of Singapore

The Lion City of Singapore

Over the years, Wendy and I have enjoyed several trips to Singapore.  Many of Wendy's visits have not necessarily been very long, as they were in the years after Uncle John had been stopped from visiting us in the summer months, and she started going to see him in Brisbane instead. 

Wendy would rent a two-bedroomed apartment the centre of the city, and hire a car; they both enjoyed a couple of weeks companionable touring around, and Uncle John felt he was still part of a family, with warmth, home-cooked food, and just plain, good old-fashioned happy times. 

On both the outward and homeward bound journeys, Wendy stopped for a few days in Singapore. Unless it is absolutely unavoidable, we will always take the opportunity to stop and rest properly, getting our feet up in a comfortable bed, in between long flights; and so it became a regular occurrence, for Wendy to visit Singapore twice each year. 

We had also been there twice before, back in 2001, when we first visited Uncle John in Brisbane, so we knew we loved it. Singapore Airlines had also won our hearts as our airline of choice!

After Uncle John died, there was no call for us to carry on flying to Australia, but that did not deter us from continuing our "love affair" with Singapore! and learning more about its deeply interesting history.

I was inspired to write a piece about its long association with Britain, and my article was published last year; I hope it will encourage other people to go and explore all the Island has to offer!

 

Apollo - A Christmas Cat

Apollo - A Christmas Cat

Well, here we are, on Christmas Eve! I don't know where the past weeks have flown to, but it has been a busy time - a couple of articles published (more of them later!) and writing letters and Christmas cards, sending off Christmas presents, and all the other preparations for Christmas, have now resulted in us being very happy and relaxed, and ready to celebrate this wonderful time of year. 

We never forget the true meaning of Christmas, and to anyone reading this blog, we wish you all a happy, gentle and peaceful time. 

Have a lovely day, and to sign off, I'll attach a pic of Apollo, in "Christmas Cat" mode, sitting on the little table where we were putting up some Christmas cards. Apollo always makes sure he is involved in everything!

God bless you all.

Bumble - A Personality Pekingese

Bumble - A Personality Pekingese 

When I was little, I was very scared of dogs; I was afraid they would launch themselves at me, jump up and knock me over - and maybe bite, as well! 

But then, when I was seven, my Mum and I visited a lady living in Kampala, and she had a beautiful Pekingese, called Quotoi - the most delightful, perfectly mannered pooch I had ever encountered. After this experience, I realised I was certainly not afraid of every dog in the world; much depended on the owners, and how they encouraged their pets to behave.

Fast forward 4 years; I am now 11, and the happy owner/companion of my own Pekingese, whom I called Bumble. 

Over the years, I had read the delightful books by Magdalen Eldon, starring Bumble the Peke, and it seemed right and fitting that my canine companion should share that name, too; he brought me much joy and happiness. 

We were all living in Dar-es-Salaam, and I was keen to enter Bumble in the dog show that was organised every year. I have such happy memories of that time, and a copy of the picture taken by the East African Standard photographer, that appeared in the paper the next day, is one I will treasure forever.

Fast forward a few decades, and I was inspired to write a poem about the Dar Dog Show, which I submitted it to The Daily Mail, one of our national newspapers. I was thrilled to see it published on Friday, 24th October, complete with a delightful cartoon, showing Bumble as I remember him best: bright eyed, ready for anything, and a dog full of love. He was certainly a personality dog, and we will never forget him.

In case it's a bit difficult to read my poem on the printed page, this is the typewritten version.  I hope anyone reading this blog will enjoy it!

DAR DOG SHOW

The Dar-es-Salaam Dog Show was a splendid affair

With dogs of all shapes and sizes;

As they proudly paraded with heads and tails high

The owners were eyeing the prizes

 

In the shimmering heat, with coats neatly clipped

The poodles pranced daintily round

In obedience trials, the Alsatians went miles

Ahead of any old pet from the pound.

 

There were so many classes with all sorts of breeds

Long hairs and short hairs; and then

The pedigreed Afghans, Chihuahuas and bloodhounds

Were out on the leash from their pen.

 

The East African Standard photographer wandered

through the throng of the Dog Show elite;

With a pic in the paper, a moment to savour

An extracurricular treat.

 

Our Bumble, the Peke, had élan, he had cheek

A personality dog at his best;

Perhaps not quite perfect, but he had a surfeit

Of lion dog pride in his breast.

 

As each section vied for the chance of a prize

At long last the Pekes were called on;

And solemnly wound past the judges around

Hoping a prize would be won.

 

And then the long waiting; the judges debating

We trembled with anticipation

Then in measured pronouncement, we heard the announcement

And heard our names called, with elation!

 

For a third-place rosette, for a wonderful pet!

No wonder our hearts beat so fast;

And on taking our bow, it didn't matter somehow,

There were only three dogs in the class.