In The Hills Of North Devon

A Memory of Tawstock.

Shovelled off to Boarding School, aged 7 (just), small boy, shorts, huge trunk, sandwiches and standing on the platform in London shivering and not just from the cold. School train huffing and puffing heading for Barnstaple feeling frankly miserable. All is new, all is not good and others sharing the same fate. Eventually arrived at St Michaels through huge gates, facing huge buildings and hordes of boys, cars unloading, parents fussing, boys blubbing and others tearing about.

Write postcard home saying 'have arrived safely', using pen and make sure the blotches noted as tears in feeble attempt to get parents to change their minds and escape home........

That was the start, it got better. Posted to Cingalese and right at the back the great hall at back of long line of desks.
1st night in Orange Dorm a bit strange, woke up wondering where I was.
Matron, a star. Most of the masters as well once you got to know them. Couple of scary ones like 'Toad' & 'Corney'. Over the years I grew to love the place, but only in hindsight!

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