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I WAS A STUDENT IN THE SEVENTIES! Introduction
CHAPTER 1: HOW I GOT TO UNIVERSITY – OR NOT! How I failed my A levels
Mopeds and motorcycles
Mini Madness!
The long hot summer of ‘76
Crossed wires at the party!
Running like a Dog!
Sabotage!
Cornish camp!
Torquay welcome!
Cruisin' through the night!
8-Track Heaven!
Meet the relatives - early!
Reading festival! (That’s a place, not a book!)
Results Time!
CHAPTER 2: MY FIRST TERM AT PORTSMOUTH POLY
Welcome to Pompey!
Facilities
My Accommodation Part 1: Pepe’s
The Cashless Society – where cash is essential!
My Accommodation Part 2: Mr Man’s
Flasher!
My Accommodation Part.3: The Lino House
Culinary Chaos
Loneliness, Leeds and ….. Stalking!
Roll Away the Stone
Leeds or bust
Stalker!
A load of Ballads!
The darkest hour ..
CHAPTER 3: CHRISTMAS HOLS. Bar Work
New Year’s Eve ‘Celebration’
Driving madness
Ten Years After – plus one
CHAPTER 4 : SECOND TERM. My Accommodation Part 4: Victoria Road North
Grunwicks
Student Sit-in Against the Cuts!
Manchester Mayhem
God Save the Queen! (and the fascist regime)
Going Commando! (Part 1)
CHAPTER 5: THE MANDATORY ALIEN ABDUCTION EPISODE. The Art of Travel
The Psychology of Hitch-hiking
Leeds or Bust(ed)!
Police Alert!
Isolation Begins
Mr Big!
Breakfast Blues!
The Accused
Leicester City Surrealism
Parental Pride
CHAPTER 6. MY THIRD TERM AT PORTSMOUTH POLYTECHNIC (SUMMER 1977) Virgin Lover
My Accommodation Part 5: Eco Warrior Squat!
That was the year, that was!
CHAPTER 7: SUMMER HOLIDAYS 1977. Not the Summer Holidays!
It was the best of Times; it was the Best of Times
Fire in the Hold!
Thief!
Man of the People!
CHAPTER 8: MY SECOND YEAR AT PORTSMOUTH. Sent Down
North End Blues
It's Bloody Freezing!
House of Cards
The Blisters!
Raided!
It wasn’t us, Guv, honest!
It Really wasn’t Me, Honest Gov!
Time is just a concept - man!
Rock and Roll! (Injecting drugs!)
Bar Girl Blues
Glastonbury? No!
CHAPTER 9: SUMMER HOLIDAYS II. Vive la France!
The Chopper!
Bike finished and ready to go! To infinity and …. oh, ok, Abingdon!
Stormy Weather!
On French soil!
St Meen-le-Grande
Hitch-hiking French style!
Le Postscript
La Plage!
Going Commando (Part 2)
Beach hawker
Les Anglais!
Bikini Babes! - at last!
Return to St Meen
Ice Cream Seller to the Rescue! (Not!)
Le Fin de la vacance, et je revenir
Humiliation time!
Olivetti rescue!
CHAPTER 10: MY FINAL YEAR AT PORTSMOUTH. Cottage Grove
Gas, gas, gas!
Babes in the Attic! Really?
Finding my religion, and God – well, almost
Punk!
The Motorcycle Diaries
The Long Road Home
Seafront Saga
Bike Buying Blues
An encounter with Death!
Motorbike and Sidecar Combination
Sidecar Blues
Acid
Final Police Encounter
Girlfriends
Lesley
Tina
Ella
Cathy
Historical Studies! - We will always have Paris
The King and I
Finals!
Results!
CHAPTER 11. THE END OF THE AFFAIR. Time to leave – the real world awaits!
Lessons learnt
CHAPTER 12. GRADUATION. Still Just as Naïve
Posed Photos!
I took my ‘A’ levels in 1976, when I was 17 years old. By this time my family had become completely dysfunctional, with my parents living separate lives, and neither of them took responsibility for their offspring. My father, once a pillar of Oxford City council, but by now a disillusioned retiree, had just lost his job, at the age of 64. One day at work he had a big argument with some civic dignitary or other and, being highly principled, he walked out, just like that, and never went back. It was half way through his final year at work and he lost half his pension. Only later did we realise that dad was actually suffering from the beginnings of Alzheimer’s disease and his mental faculties were already failing.
My mother remained as she always had been – slightly out of touch with this world and living in some ‘happy world’ that only she was in touch with. I’m guessing she was on some kind of medication as she once went absolutely ballistic at my elder brother when he played Mother’s little helper by the Stones on the record player in his bedroom. But her mantra was always ‘Boys will be boys’ and she generally left me and my elder brother Peter to our own devices – and we took full advantage. Peter even went as far as fitting a Yale lock to his bedroom door.
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Camping in Torquay
The most noteworthy thing about our stay there was that one evening we hit the bars in downtown Torquay, and we chanced upon a really great bar with loud music, loads of young people and a great atmosphere. Brilliant! (Just the sort of place that I would now avoid like the plague, but as teenagers, it was heaven!) By that time it was getting a bit late but we all bought pints, somehow squeezed onto a table and began to soak up the great music and atmosphere.
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