Snides HQ will be there there so trade in the blueprint for the banana. DK 5 Also activate teleport pad 3 while you’re down there. Jump back into the water and make your way to teleport pad 2. Use it and shoot the switch on the wall next to you to extend the spiral bridge again.
Most of the families I came across had lived in Eastleigh for two or three generations, with only relatively few being newcomers. Many sons tended to follow their father and even grandfather into the same trade or line of business and most of them usually ended up marrying local girls and living in the same area. In the late 1950’s one boy from Edward Avenue, Bishopstoke, who was a few older than me, did something unexpected. He went away for his two years of National Service and was posted abroad to somewhere in the Pacific, possibly Easter Island. He met and married a local girl and returned with (to our eyes) an exotic wife with dusky complexion, long shiny black hair down to her waist and who wore sarong-style clothes in summer. In the 1990’s I was visiting my elderly and ailing mother in the Mount Hospital at Bishopstoke, and she introduced me to one of the cleaners that she said I would know.
It was 10am and the 5th year students were gradually assembling in their hut, waiting for the year-master, Mr Joakim Hudek, to appear and brief them on the coming term. The walls separating the houses, called the party wall, were only 4 inches (100 mm) thick brickwork and sounds easily carried between them. The wallpaper and paintwork in the flat were in a reasonable state but very dark and sombre colours for such small rooms. The only heating for the house was a coal fire in the living room; the lighting throughout was extremely poor, with very few power outlet sockets. At the end of July 1968 I and my then wife Margaret moved back south from Manchester where we had lived for the previous year so that I could start as a 5th year architectural student at the Portsmouth School of Architecture.
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No homes had telephones; mobile phones, texting, twitter, and the internet did not exist and there was no Toynbee equivalent of the Old Manwoodian Association or newsletter to keep ex-pupils in touch. Back in the witness box I was given an even harder time and I started to get confused and make mistakes. The defence lawyer focussed on the statements Margaret, and I had made, homing in on the fact that Margaret thought that £2,000 was mentioned and I had thought King Kong Crash Climber £20,000.
Pat and I had confirmed the availability of the St Mary’s church Bishopstoke with the Reverend Rose some weeks earlier and had been to see him previously for a little spiritual lecture and a practice run through. Rev Rose was a most gentle and charming vicar one could wish to meet. By early 1969 I was fed up to the back teeth with my solicitors. All my letters asking about progress had either not been answered or I was just fobbed of with a standard ‘work in progress’ letter.
It was a lovely little car and, for its time, very innovative with its monocoque shell construction, wishbone suspension and aluminium head to the engine. From the time we first knew him Colin was mad on motorcycles and had even got hold of a non-running old one to fiddle around with and used to freewheel on it down White Road. He loved to listen to commentaries on the radio and clips shown on the black and white TVs of various motor-cycle road races, particularly the annual Isle of Man TT races. ” Colin would listen to this record for hours; even trying to imitate the sounds himself. He became an apprentice motorcycle mechanic in the Alec Bennett motorcycle workshops; a highly regarded specialist firm in Portswood, Southampton. By 1962 he had completed his apprenticeship and become a highly skilled mechanic.
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Liz Viney was a brown belt and was or had been in the British Judo team. The instructor for beginners was a blue belt called John Collins, who was a corporal in the Green Jackets rifle brigade who was based at Winchester Barracks. I believe he was also a physical training and unarmed combat instructor in the army, and he certainly put us through a tough training regime. Every year we looked forward to Guy Fawkes Night on November 5th and the big ‘draw’ for people was the firework display at Winchester. People would come from miles around and the City Centre would be swarming with swirling crowds of teenagers and students as well as parents and younger children. The big bonfire and large firework display were at a place called Oliver’s Battery; up the hill out of the City Centre.
Without a word he picked up a piece of chalk, turned his back to us and started to draw. He then just turned around, put the chalk down on his desk and looked at us silently as we gaped back at him. However, there were still so many distractions for us rather up tight and impressionable working-class boys in the alien world of the Art College that it was really quite hard to concentrate. The full-time students sprawled around on top of the lockers that lined the corridors, dressed in ‘with it’ or ‘way out’ clothes, chain-smoking French (Gitane?) cigarettes and strumming guitars.
The design tutor there was very keen on 1930s modernist architecture translated into the then current very fashionable Scandinavian brick buildings. The style relied heavily on simple geometric shapes, clean lines, good proportions, no decorative features, two colours of brickwork at the most and either a flat or mono-pitched roof. My design reflected this approach, and I carried on the geometric theme in the paving and planters in the adjacent public garden.