Ridley: Christopher Booth OW 1988

 Life in the 1980s seems now like life on a completely different planet – but a life remembered fondly, nevertheless. There were no screens, of course – early computers were exclusively the domain of misfits, almost always male, and often quite spotty. Music collections amounted to a few tapes, or whatever got lifted away from the HMV shop in Guildford, rather than today’s bottomless wealth of Spotify. Cigarettes came in packs of 10 and vapes hadn’t been invented. We were often cold, and the food was immeasurably worse. If you were any good at games, you were press-ganged into a team, come rain or shine, whether you felt like it or not. The friendships that have lasted were often born of adversity. 

In sum: I had a great time. 

There are plenty of memories I could mention, but should probably pass over in silence for the sake of all involved, myself included, even 40 years or more after the events in question. 

But choosing Latin A-level under the tuition of the late, great ‘Herbie’ Winter was one of my better decisions. There were only two of us in the class: everyone else thought it an eccentric choice – ‘How will it help you get a job? It’s a dead language!’. But not only was the Latin course enjoyable as learning for learning’s sake, it equipped me with a grasp of the mechanisms behind communication. This helped me get to grips with Russian in later life, and get by in other languages, and also (I think) become a better journalist. 

One of the better developments during my time at KES was the demise of savage, institutionalised bullying – to which staff appeared to turn a blind eye. Children are inventive, however, so other means of immiserating younger boys were quickly established. 

And things that seemed for weirdos only – computing, as I mentioned, or environmental concerns – are now firmly mainstream. ‘Who knew?’ as they say now. Note to future self: the things you take for granted will be called into question, and the things you think are the exclusive business of those who inhabit society’s fringes may come to rule your world. 

One thing about growing up in southwest Surrey, at least in my case, was a firm desire to get out of the place as quickly as I could. I travelled before, during and after university, and pretty quickly established myself in Moscow, determined to be journalist. I spent a total of ten years based in the Russian capital and worked my way from a local paper to BBC News bureau chief, by way of wars, revolutions, a couple of imprisonments, rioting, terrorist outrages, natural disasters, plane crashes, space disasters and the occasional cheerful report – usually involving animals, not humans. I returned to work at the BBC World Service in London, got a bit bored, and volunteered to be bureau chief in Baghdad. But that’s another story. 

 I then spent a few years working for a multilateral development bank, travelling to Chernobyl as part of the safety project the bank managed, and now specialise in corporate communications for organisations that I hope are making the world a marginally better place.