BITS OF MY LIFE - PART I
28 JUNE 2010
Here are some of the images I have not managed to lose over the past 50 or so years. The less embarrassing ones at least. There are those I could publish for which I would be hunted down and killed. Perhaps later eh?
Most of these were taken when I was working in Saudi Arabia. Either there or when I went on R&R to the flesh-pots of Cairo, Beirut, Sweden, and Clacton. There are also some from when I worked at Trident Recording Studios in London.
I have about 1,000 slides all mixed up in a large biscuit tin, so they are being scanned in as they come out the tin. No order to them whatsoever, but that is me to a T.
Click on any image to see a larger version.
My pride and joy. Even though it broke my damn ankle
Bugger. Not again.
I’m always a bit cranky in the morning.
The Escarpment. A real brown trouser ride on a motorbike.
The front entrance of the Cairo Tesco
Who said Swedish girls were easy. I had to break her fingers.
My first time on skis. It doesn’t really show.
The swimming hole near Khamis Mushaiyt
A simple equation...
Trail bike + mud = heaven
Cathy looking cool in my aviator shades dammit!
A Khamis lookout tower. But you knew that of course.
Picnic at Najran oasis.
Hasn’t got the same ring to it as ‘Hanging Rock’ though.
This is as close as you are ever going to get to seeing my arse!
Words fail me.
I forget where this is.
It had been a good New Years Eve party, so a little damage was to be expected.
Damn I was hot. Just look at that haircut! I think Purdy nicked it from me.
Slough Water Works in full production.
The escarpment a bit further up. See what I mean about ‘brown trousers’?
I think the expression is ‘Party Hearty’
But someone thought I said ‘Farty Hearty’
Oh yes. That was when I still had hair. The T-Shirt proclaims ‘National Goblin Week’
I was exceptionally industrious that day. Soldered four joints and rolled two!
Irene expressing her opinion of the cabaret.
Me doing my impression of a male ‘Snow Bunny’
Lunch at Trident Studios was always a very staid affair.
The local brothel did a steady trade.
The penalties for not dressing for dinner were harsh, but fair.
Me and some hippy chick.
Eat your heart out Man Ray.
Rush hour in Riyadh was always to be avoided. Unless you were a keen rose grower.
You’re not having a migraine, and you’re both going in the back of the van.
Derek failed the water jump. His bike was under there somewhere. My how we laughed!
General Cheesemans alter ego?
