It’s a
very long time since I stood on the decks of the Royal Yacht Brittania—50 years
to be precise! I’m standing here now, because we’ve taken a few days break in
Edinburgh and this is where she now lies as a major visitor-attraction in
Leith, Scotland. Back in 1963-4, the 14 year old paperboy that I was then,
lived in Stamshaw, Portsmouth and when—in between her many World Tours and
State Visits—she was in her Portsmouth Dockyard berth just off Whale Island,
close to our house, I would cycle off each morning from the Newsagents to sell
papers and magazines to the crew. Not many people know this!
It’s a
very strange feeling to be back on board. I’m excited and a little bit perturbed
and disorientated as I try to find the exact spot where I stood on those
icy-cold early mornings before going off bleary-eyed to school. Unlike this
visit, where I am free to go absolutely anywhere I like—even (shock-horror) to
see the Queen’s bedroom—I never actually got to be any place on board in those
days, except to ‘man’ a small undercover bit towards the stern, having left my
bike on the quayside and lugged my massively heavy papers and equally huge cash
bag up the gangway with me. And of course sadly, I never met the Queen.
As we walk up and down, deck-by-deck with all the other
enthralled multi-national visitors looking at the memorabilia, artifacts,
fabulous collections and history of the ship and her esteemed Royal Family, who
travelled over a million miles in her across far flung seas, enjoying their
privacy and also entertaining many famous dignitaries and wealthy guests for
over 60 years—I’m not sure what or how I’m feeling. Such a long time has gone
by so quickly and so many things have happened in my life—was this really a part
of it? Did it shape or influence who I am or what I went on to do?
'Amongst his wares, the paperboy had been given several men’s
magazines to sell, and he remembers with quite a lot of embarrassment, the
sailors laughing about the ‘tame’ nature of what was on show. They tried to
make him blush by showing pictures they had of eye-popping and seemingly impossible
things.'
I did blush…. and I’m still
blushing now!
'Also, he remembers after one of these trips, cycling back to
the shop with his much lighter newspapers and magazines bag and very much
heavier cash bag. Approaching the bridge, he had to slow down and come to a
wobbly stop because of traffic lights. He waited for them to change and scooted
along to get back on his bike again. Cocking his leg confidently over the saddle—yes,
you’ve guessed it—he proceeded to empty all over the road the complete contents
of his cash bag as it tipped off his shoulder.'
I couldn’t believe it!! Traffic came
to a standstill as I scrabbled around trying to pick up the money and several
people came to help—at least I think they were helping.
Anyway, funny memories….. and I’m wondering if embarrassment
is etched deep in my soul, and whatever else there might be there from the
past.
Recollecting and reflecting on the past.
Ah well, the past….. the past…..
all is past, except for now, remembering. Nothing profound, nothing important—not
now anyway. Remembering and letting go of the past.
