Farnley Lines

So how are you both?” “I hope this finds you in good health.”

“Old age not catching up with you yet?”. I sometimes feel like replying, “Do you really want to know? If you have half an hour to spare, I’ll give you a full breakdown of my and Margaret’s recent medical history.”

I can sense, Dear Reader, that you are already puzzling as to where this article is heading. So out with it! I have been diagnosed with prostate cancer. My doctor, Romily Rees, daughter of Old Almondburian Michael Hardcastle MBE (KJGS 1944-51), discovered a high ‘prostatespecific antigen’ count in a blood sample.

‘Urgent’ appointment at Bridgend Hospital. MRI scan and a full bone scan. The latter revealed “no spread and therefore no cause for concern on this front.” I share all this with you so that I can urge all our male members to have a test even if they have no symptoms. I am fortunate in having a much-appreciated OA doctor friend who has been a constant source of comfort and advice. He has always urged his patients to “listen to their bodies”: such precious words. He must remain anonymous but he will recognise himself.The Big C inevitably casts a cloud. I have had a biopsy and await results. I remain positive and optimistic.

Spanish travels

To more cheerful news! Many Old Almondburians will know our close ties

DAVE BUSH

with Spain. After two years of waiting thanks to Covid these were further strengthened by the marriage of our grandson, Jordi to Nuria.They both live and teach in Barcelona but Nuria is a proud Gallega – that is, she hails from Galicia in the northwest corner of Spain – and it was to there that I travelled for a glorious celebration. Sadly mobility problems prevented Margaret accompanying me.

An indication of the lavishness of the occasion was that there was present a polpeiro, a specialist in the preparation of an octopus which he plunged wriggling into boiling water. Nearby was a jamonero whose job was to carve thin slices of Iberian ham off a huge shank; quite an art I was assured. Jordi had asked that I make a speech which I did with some trepidation.Where has my confidence of yesteryear gone? I spoke each sentence in Spanish and then in English. Secretly tutored by one of Nuria’s friends I delivered a short section in Gallego, a cross between Spanish and Portuguese.The locals insist it is not a dialect but a separate language. It was well received as was the whole speech apparently. I had my reservations.

Exclusive: sex in Porthcawl

To preserve a balance, I should mention grand-daughter, Anna who, as I mentioned in the July issue, now writes for the weekend edition of the i newspaper. I now open it with a feeling of foreboding. One article concerned sex and the over sixties. I asked if a note could be added stating that ‘no grandparents have been consulted in the writing of this article’. A few weeks later appeared another expressing the delights of sex in the open air and a guide to same. In the same edition Anna had produced a list of 30 secret beaches and had included Pink Bay, the most westerly of Porthcawl’s seven bays and reached only by a long walk. I emailed her to inform I had been down to

Pink Bay and found it crowded with i readers. I retreated inland and practically tripped over couples coupling in the dunes. Whatever will come next?

The death of Queen Elizabeth II

We were fortunate that two days after the death of the Queen, Anna spent the weekend with us in South Wales. She described in detail the atmosphere in the offices of a major newspaper and how she felt it was the most surreal day of her life (see panel opposite). She did not leave work until after 10.00 pm; the company did provide taxis home for those who needed them. Meanwhile her partner, Max, a civil servant, apparently had an even more demanding day but sadly cannot reveal any details. I should add that he’s a very clever lad, our Max. First class honours and other qualifications. We predict a rapid rise up the civil service tree.

Martin pays a visit

Train of thought. I have not infrequently been asked who was the most able pupil I have ever taught. Rather than list one I have always selected three: I have a photo of them taken at the 2008 celebratory dinner; Bryan Hopkinson (1967-74), Ruth Ainley (1979-84) and Martin Priestley (1962-70).Two of the three have now visited Porthcawl: Bryan and Martin. (So come on down, Ruth!)

Martin called in at the beginning of June. He sat three ‘A’ levels at the end of his second year in the Sixth and gained three As. This was in the days when an A was somewhat of a rarity. He stayed for a third year, continued on page 36