My Home Town

A Memory of Swindon.

I'm a Pinehurst boy infants' juniors and seniors before moving on to Headlands as the first of the Comprehensive pupils. But firstly I'm from Pinehurst and proud of it. I lived with my Mum and Gran in Hawthorne Avenue until my dad left the Navy then we lived in Maple Grove, we then had the fish and chip shop on the Circle before moving back to the prefabs, again in the Circle. My parent still live in Liddington Street, my mum never moving any further than 1/2 mile from where she was born 78 years ago. Looking back we were a bit naughty, raiding the allotments for rhubarb, lazing in the sun in Pinehurst rec, bike rides Savernake Forest, and Avebury, my parent were not too pleased with that but never seemed to mind me riding to Lechlade to swim. I remember Mrs Beattie from the infants, Mr Secret, Jaspar Anfuso and of course old Bill Bryant. I remember the stick, the dap, the flying blackboard rubber and a certain Mr Holloway attempting to hit me, connecting I think with Terry Townsend with such force that his teeth flew out and hit the radiator. I recall long summer days on the milk bank, trainspotting, hanging from the hoardings near the laundry, exciting days such as Wednesday afternoons waking around the railway workshops and scrap yards, bike rides with my grandad on Sunday afternoons and trips to the gas works on Gypsy to ease my coughing. I never dreamed I would leave Swindon and here I am writing this from Sierra Leone, working for African Minerals Aids relief/prevention, previously to that I was in Haiti (which is now my home) where I headed up the country logistics for a major foundation rebuilding the countries infrastructure after the 2010 earthquake. I have worked in Germany, Holland and Belize, who would have thought a boy from Pinehurst would move so far from home. All I ever wanted to do was work on the railways.

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