Sunday, June 9, 2013

Pleurisy, Nabokov and me



I recently wrote this short piece for the Vintage books blog about how I got into writing fiction, which I largely put down to a nasty lung infection contracted in the Andes at the age of twenty. The accompanying pictures, put through my rather rudimentary scanner, have come out looking like they were taken about 100 years ago using a Box Brownie, but maybe that all adds to the general sense of ancient history... 



Digging them out, I found myself wondering what happened to my two companions on that journey, Vanessa and Julia, both then students at New Hall. One I know spent a long time in Madrid working for Reuters (we met up there c.1990 when I too was journalistically employed there). The other became an expert on China, a while before it became a manufacturing superpower. More than that, I do not know...

2 comments:

Debbie said...

Fascinating read. Not sure I ever knew such details about your South American trip. I remember the pan pipe music on that record you played incessantly afterwards, though!

Philip Sington said...

Ah yes, the Quito Plumbing Appliances Quintet; what they didn't know about wind...