I’ve been contributing bits and bobs to the Guardian Weekly for over two decades. I remember the first one in answer to a query: what was Tonto referring to by saying kemosabe to the Lone Ranger? Answer: Que mas sabes. So I just carried on.
I have to admit I was lucky, following what turned out to be trends. I was shoved into Bradford University’s modern languages degree by default, which besides teaching me applied languages, meant I got to shake chancellor Harold Wilson’s hand.
With no inkling of career designs, I went to Toulouse University as a lecturer. Up against a horde of French students I taught British civilisation (!).
Staying in France after marrying a student, I was obliged to find a job, translating for a French company drilling in Iraq and also for the North Sea platform people. This was, after all, the heyday of the oil boom.
In the late 70s I got a job with the biggest exporter of French Golden Delicious apples (remember them?). I was a fruit checker, which took me to ports, railheads and produce markets in France and abroad.
Then I worked for a well-known European aircraft manufacturer until retirement.
Throughout all this, the Weekly has been a lifeline, a thread to the outside world. People out there perhaps wonder what is this obsession to contribute? Well, try it.
If you would like to appear in this space, send a brief note to guardian.weekly@theguardian.com
