Travel

TRAVEL NEWS

Mathew Sumpton and Marc Mitchell are the recipients of this year's Barry Daniel Award for adventurous travel. They are planning a trans-Africa expedition by Land Rover. Two other Peterites on the move are Jamie Rigby and Tom Kitchingman (pictured above), who have been selected for Project Trust ventures. Tom is spending a year on a cattle station in Queensland, Australia, and Jamie is teaching English at Prince Royal School, Chiang Mai, in Thailand.

The Selborne Connection has continued to flourish. This year we welcomed Philip Bartlett as a guest in The Rise and Neil Malherbe as a visiting member of staff. During the summer holidays Paul Reavley and James Hague spent time at Selborne College, following in the footsteps of Sam Forsyth who went there last year. Sam gave a talk to the School on his experiences there. Travel talks were also given by Stephen Harryman (British Schools Exploring Society in Spitzbergen), Lawrence Patton (China visit) and Tim Cooper (E.S.U. Scholarship).

As ever, a group of us — twelve pupils and an odd mixture of staff and old boys — dispelled the end-of-term stupor to assemble at School on the first day of the Christmas holiday. Euan Drysdale describes the trip from the point of view of a complete novice — soon to be converted to everyone else's fanatical devotion to this lunacy. "Never having been to Snowdonia before with a School expedition, I set off with some trepidation about what the next few days would bring. "The hut where we stayed was warm and we slept on bunk beds. The meals were very big and much better than I had been led to expect by the people who were there the previous year. "On the first day we climbed Snowdon. It was really good. There was a great sense of satisfaction when we finally reached the top. "Half way up the mountain we were given a brief description (and a few minutes practice) of how to use our ice axes, should we fall. The pack-up we were given was substantial but the chocolate bars had a tendency to freeze (as do most things in these temperatures). "In the evening when we arrived at the hut I went straight to sleep, only to be woken for a meal — which I thought was breakfast the next day but was really supper. "In the mornings we were woken by Simon shouting as loud as he could and banging on all the walls, which is how I imagine soldiers to be woken in barracks. "On the third day the youngest in the party went up a snow gully above a huge lake which had iced over. First, we walked round the edge of the lake and the ice was at least six inches thick. After we passed the lake we started going up the side of the gully where we used ropes. At lunch time I found myself sitting in snow half-way up a mountain, sipping a cup of lukewarm chocolate and thinking, "What am I doing here?" On the way down we were still attached to the ropes, and we slid down on the snow. "It was a truly amazing trip, but definitely not for the faint hearted."

From the other end of the pupils' age-range, John Sutcliffe's impressions follow: "The Christmas hillwalking holiday is the perfect excuse to scramble all over a rocky outcrop to the west of England (called Wales). A party of intrepid explorers sets out each Christmas for what is an excellent insight into mountaineering. The party is a mixed bunch: there are third formers right the way up to Very Old Peterites, and from the word go, everyone gets along and pulls their own weight. "Basically, there are three full days. On the first day (the weather was superb) we tackled Snowdon. The group I was in took Crib Goch, a ridge that runs from the Pass of Llanberis to the summit of Snowdon. The ridge itself resembles a knife blade and it certainly makes you concentrate hard upon what you hold or stand on. It was exciting, exhilarating, nerve racking, etcetera... words don't mean anything until you've done it. We made the summit by about one o'clock and the view was stunning. We all felt a degree of satisfaction looking back along the ridge which now looked even more terrifying. Chris Bonington would have been proud of us. "On the second day a small group of us went to try our hand at some climbing on the Idwal Slabs. We had all done some climbing in the sports hall at School, and we soon began to notice the subtle differences, e.g. six hundred feet. The only thing to do was take every hundred feet as they came. In groups of two (one adult experienced climber in each group) we began to climb. It soon taught us fundamental aspects of climbing which we had overlooked in the relative safety of the sports hall. The first hundred feet was enjoyable, with pleasant views, fresh air, peace and quiet. At two hundred feet I began to wonder what heaven might look like. The thought of falling sent a shiver down die spine. Near the top I'd lost count of the number of feet below. The lake down there was now very small. There was no need to try and imagine what heaven might look like: I was nearly there! Again we felt very satisfied, having climbed the face. "On the last day we scaled Try fan. It is an instant mountain. You pile out of the bus with packs and ice axes and start the climb/scramble to the top. The weather was poor until a moment when we were about to traverse a gully near the top. The cloud suddenly disappeared. It was amazing how high we were. We finally reached the summit and had to get down promptly as it was just getting dark. "The Welsh holiday is not expensive. It is good fun and a challenge. The accommodation is basic — indeed, the hardest thing is getting used to the cold and the infestations of micro-organisms and fungi which will quite happily propagate in your sleeping bag... It is a holiday not to be missed."

For myself, I would like once again to thank all those who helped make the trip so successful, and to repeat the invitation: if you would be interested in joining us for all or part of the trip just before Christmas 1991, please get in touch with David Hughes at School.

"St. Peter's School Mountaineering Club"

There is now a formal "St. Peter's School Mountaineering Club", affiliated to the B.M.C.: membership is automatically open to all pupils. All old pupils and friends are invited to apply for membership, which will currently cost £3.50 per year. Contact David Hughes for further details.

D. P. Hughes

Tour Party:

P. Carvosso, A. Dean, A. Killip, G. Silverwood, E. Savage, A. Gowthorpe/ R. Bell, A. Ludiman, G. Walker, J. Morris, P. Mulryne, C. Coggrave, G. Wood, P. Reavley,.C; Martin. M. Davies, T. Reid, D. Batty, C. Richardson, A. Robinson, O. Gardner, C. Caldwell. the form of excellent hospitality at the university and several other watering holes.

Our first game started at 7.00 that evening so we all met at 5.00 p.m., minus C. Martin who made his "own" way to the ground!! The side was picked to meet what we knew to be the best opposition we would play. At halftime the score standing at 4-3 the team realised that winning was there for the taking. Inspired by excellent play in the loose the backs removed much of the season's frustrations by scoring several remarkable tries including C. Caldwell's final try for the School before dislocating his shoulder again! We ran out 30-15 winners which was a moment to be savoured by all those who had gone through the trials of last season. The after-match hospitality was quite excellent with the university club putting on an excellent meal. Sadly the coach found his grasp of Portuguese somewhat lacking by 10.30 p.m.!! A good sing was had, led by our own acapella specialist Mike Johnson.

The following morning was spent running, waddling or simply stumbling through our training in order to run off the previous day's game. Again excellent hospitality was provided for both team and staff at lunch on Sunday. Peter, our host, realised Mike Johnson and I were not on a diet and he and his girlfriend did not disappoint us with a splendid lunch. The second match was played after watching the Portuguese National XV beat Andorra (not a brand of sheep, Smash!). Sadly on leading 12-6 we needed to change pitches as it was getting dark!! With the disruption came a rather long second half!! and we finally went down 12-18 well into injury time.

Our next day was a rest day. Our run up the front was accomplished with considerable grumbling. However, a brief sandblasting on the beach spruced us all up except

Tour Results

Academica (Coimbra) Won 30—15 Northern Portugal Select

XV (Coimbra) Lost 12—16 C.D.U.L. (Lisbon) Lost 15—16

The tour party departed from Manchester on the final Thursday of term. We thank Anthony Killip for providing us all with some excitement on the outward journey! On arrival at Lisbon we embarked on an interesting coach trip of 200km north to Figueira da Foz. Sadly Mike Davies failed to enjoy the evening meal stop and felt a little "green" for the remainder of the evening. As good British tourists the party left for our day in Coimbra, after early morning training, dressed for the beach. Sadly we had brought our own weather with us and the residents of Coimbra looked with some pity on the tourists in shorts and T-shirts with the temperature below 10°c and precipitating heavily. Fortunately warmth was at hand in

for Mike who managed to return having caught a very nasty 'dose' of something. He provided a number of hotel guests with an uncensored exhibition of his ills!! Peter met us for dinner and helped save "Manuel, Keith and Simon" from Graham and Gareth's evening plans, Jason's apology in Portuguese not being exactly what was intended! A splendid evening was had by all, and some of us had the scars to prove it. We left Figueira the following morning having said our goodbye's to Peter, a most charming and hospitable host.

The journey to Estoril was achieved without an accident but only just. Our coach driver clearly had a psychopathic dislike for mopeds and was not afraid to vent his feelings on these unfortunates.

Estoril provided a much bigger hotel, but equally as pleasant service and hospitality. Another brief visit to the beach saw some unconvincing 7's and a slightly damp occasion for yours truly! The next morning we were up early and trained properly for the final game.

A couple of plates of local sausages gave Ed. Savage and Paul Carvosso a good idea of what it is like to have cholera!! This meant that we were at full strength if a little less than full fitness for the C.D.U.L. match. All the U.6 played and as a result we left out our only kicker, 'OH Gardner"; sadly this was to cost us the game. We came back from 16-3 down to lose 16-15, missing three relatively simple kicks during the game. "Serge" Wood took over die full-back's role with all the flair but not quite the pace. A. Killip, the day before his sixteenth birthday, scored two splendid tries. Special thanks go to Mike Johnson our "Ref' who managed to avoid a diplomatic incident whilst discussing the laws with their very "mature" front row! On returning to the hotel we had a most pleasant evening sampling the local food and wine. Mike Davies appeared very taken with Chicken Piri Piri and Blue Curacao! The final day found TAP airways informing us of a seven hour delay to our flight and the fact that they only wanted to take twenty-one of our party home. However, veiled threats of airport riots and our charm on the phone cleared the matter up. (Many thanks go to Judy at school for getting the message to all concerned on the home front.) Our last evening was a quiet and subdued affair with the hotel barman persuading "Smash" to sing Flower of Scotland and the party to return the favour with "Swing Low". The captain, accompanied by his faithful followers, braved the marble stairs for the final time. Jason's balance was most commendable!

So the tour ended with Angus, David and Robert all grateful for their E.E.C. subsidies! Any tour report is merely a reminder of some of the small incidents and many pleasant memories. That the party enjoyed their stay in Portugal after a hard season is fair reward for their efforts. It only remains to say how friendly our hosts were and how well organised our stay was. My thanks go to Mike Williams, of Sevenoaks School, for his organisation, Mike Johnson for his tremendous help and support and the boys for their efforts.

P. J. Stephen

Ann Hodgson recalls her experiences on the North-East Independent Schools' Trip to India in November.

Delhi 11/11/90

On the journey from the airport to the hotel we got our first glimpse of Indian City life; cows and bullocks on the roads, the poverty of those living in tents and huts, the crumbling blocks of flats. Our hotel (Vasont Continental) seemed an oasis of Western luxury; very incongruous amongst its surroundings.

The next day we were taken around the sights of New Delhi and then given the opportunity to do a little more exploring and shopping independently. It was a good way for us to acclimatise and get used to some of the strange sights and sounds.

Gwalior 13/11/90

We were up very early the next day to catch the Shatabdi Express to Gwalior. At the station we were met by the very charming boys and staff of Scindia School. I was delighted as we wound our way further and further up onto a fantastic plateau. There were several defences and gates making a very formidable fort indeed. The School itself is in the barracks that the British built; probably some of the most noble and gracious barracks I have seen. After the seething mass of people, animals and vehicles in Gwalior below, the interior of the fort was amazingly tranquil. There were temples, flowers and bushes, games fields and tennis courts.

We spent four days at Scindia School. Some of the highlights were; the visit to an adopted village where the School had built a community centre, the powerful singing in assembly, the dramatic "green ballet" the School performed for us, the "Children's Day" which was a junior sports day with some brilliant gymnastics, the matches (cricket, football and squash) that we engaged in, the deeply moving and simple ceremony that all the boys attend every evening at sunset, the lively and amusing debate and the Son et Lumiere at the beautiful Man Singh palace. The School itself was run on the lines of a British Public School but succeeded in retaining a strong sense of Indian culture. We were all impressed by the quiet dignity of the boys and the beauty of the place.

Agra 16/11/90

I found Agra Fort and the Taj Mahal the two most impressive buildings that we saw in India. Agra Fort is tremendously imposing and formidable in its defences but some of the beautiful, elegant and delicate buildings inside its walls are a complete contrast and quite stunning. I have never been moved by a building as much as the Taj Mahal moved me. I saw it at sunrise (fragile and tinged pink), at mid-day (irredescent against a bright blue sky) and at sunset (warm, gold and tranquil). The day that we were due to move on to Delhi one of the boys was ill and was so badly dehydrated that he had to be on a drip. I stayed with him in Agra whilst the others moved on and we caught up with them the next day. Between hospital visits I was able to explore more of Agra and return to the Taj again in the late afternoon.

Delhi 19/11/90

We travelled all day and arrived at Delhi in time to go to the Son et Lumiere at the Red Fort. We had quite a long wait and it didn't seem to have the same dramatic impact that the show at Gwalior had had.

Himalayan Foothills 20/11/90

Again we travelled through the day, catching fascinating glimpses of village life and the changing countryside. At dusk we arrived at the camp, by the Ganges; such peace and beauty after Delhi. The camp was on a grassy slope above a thundering rapid. There were steep hills all around, covered in rough vegetation. The sky was clear and deeply spangled with stars.

We had two exhilarating days white-water rafting, covering most of the 40km from the camp down to Rishikesh. The craft took eight of us with one guide. It was wonderful to be doing something energetic and exciting in such fantastic surroundings. On the third day some of the group went for another day's rafting whilst some of us went trekking. We walked for seven hours, our guide taking us along tracks and paths far from any road. The views were spectacular and the villages and hamlets tucked into sheltered pockets were fascinating. The villagers live a simple life; the family upstairs, the stock below. They build the most beautiful terracing that traces the contours with lovely sweeping curves. From above, the river is stunning; milky blue-green with brilliant white sandy beaches.

On the last day we went up to Deprayav, a town at the confluence where the river takes the name Ganges. The views all the way up the valley were fantastic.

Dehra Dun 24/11/90

We arrived at the Doon School, Dehra Dun in the dark. Two of us had rooms in the cricket pavilion which was a novel experience. The boys were divided into groups and taken off to different houses. Daylight showed just how extensive and attractive the campus is. The malis take great pride in their work and the gracious buildings and lawns are surrounded by a very colourful selection of flowers, shrubs and trees. We felt very much at home at the Doon School and we were able to spend a rather more relaxed week there; joining in activities, visiting local Schools and meeting lots of people. We played hockey, cricket, basketball, squash and football against well-matched teams. We spent half a day at Massori where we got spectacular views of the higher Himalayas. The visit to Welwyn Girls School was a delight, largely thanks to the intelligent and charming girls who showed us round with great enthusiasm. The "cultural evening", when we exchanged music and drama, was a success despite several of our more talented musicians being unable to play. On the whole we found the Doon School rather more familiar to us than any of the other places we had seen. The most memorable things for me were the many fascinating and enlightening conversations that I had with interested, wellinformed and intelligent boys and staff.

Delhi 30/11/90

We returned to Delhi and were treated to an excellent (and very English) meal at the British High Commission. A. J. Hodgson

As I sit here in my University digs, writing a report for The Peterite on my Year-Out as an English-Speaking Union Scholar, I realise that at this time last night I was signing a cheque for another flight to Canada. I guess that shows how much of an impression the country and its people made on me in the ten months that I stayed there.

The English-Speaking Union is an educational, charitable organisation, in London, which runs many schemes to promote fellowship between English-Speaking countries. Scholarships to a number of North American Schools are just one of these schemes and are mainly for pupils between the end of their A-Level studies and the beginning of their further education.

I departed for my Canadian School, Appleby College, on the 8th of September, 1989. I had just got my results and had a place for the following year which I merely deferred. Until the day that I left England, I had not begun to even comprehend the enormity of the task I was undertaking.

I arrived in Canada with two other E.S.U. scholars but my welcoming committee had broken their name card and so we didn't meet up for about three quarters of an hour. As we pulled up at the School, I was left on my own for about three hours and began to realise what I had done. Over the next four weeks, as this "limey" struggled to find new friends and received letters from old ones telling him about how great University life was, I thought only of the difficulties I was encountering and whether or not I had made the right decision.

My parents came over after about four weeks which was a help. They quickly reminded me of something that Alistair Fernie, an E.S.U. Scholar of the previous year, had said to me just before I left; that every experience that you have over here, no matter whether pleasurable or unpleasant is good experience. From that moment on everything was a lot easier, as I realised that I had to make the best of the opportunity that I had been lucky enough to have offered to me.

In the first term I enjoyed playing soccer, which enabled me to tour Montreal with the competitive and friendly team, took part in the School's first dramatic production of the year and enjoyed subjects I had been forced to drop earlier on in my academic career, which the School's varied programme now re-offered me.

With a place already secured at Loughborough University, the trip had little academic relevance other than my new subjects of Art, Public Speaking and Politics. For me the intention was to give as much to my new society as I could manage, whether this was socially or dramatically, on the sports field or in the classroom.

After Christmas the whole pace of my experience quickened, I had a decent set of friends and was beginning to learn what it was like to be a young Canadian, in affluent Oakville, just outside Toronto, Ontario. The rugby season was beginning, parties were becoming more and more frequent, or at least the invitations were, as I was now one of three people in the School who could go to the Beer Store and also plans were being made for the major Canadian holiday, March break.

The first of my three trips was to a little island the School owned, in the frozen wastes eight hours north of Toronto. The Northern Campus, or Temagami was where the School ran its Outward Bound course. Nothing could have prepared me for this experience, which at various points I couldn't believe I had actually specifically requested to go through. In retrospect though, once you got used to your breath crackling at -28 degrees plus wind chill, the frostbite, the snow-shoes, the claustrophobic snow shelters, the horrendous dehydrated food and the unusually unpleasant toilet facilities, you realised it was a fantastic and worthwhile trip, full of camaraderie, which I'm glad I went through.

My next trip was a huge contrast to this one. A friend asked me if I wanted to spend sixteen days sailing his father's yacht in the Bahamas, and after hours of hesitant contemplation I reluctantly agreed.

The first week of the final term took the School band and a "limey roadie", on a coach from Toronto, down the length of the United States, to New Orleans for the Jazz Festival. We spent four days around the city which just never seemed to shut, exploring the delights of Bourbon Street and we had what was generally termed "a most excellent time".

The Summer Term sped by and though Christmas seemed just like a blink ago, Graduation and the end of term quickly approached. At the type of School Appleby was, the end of term formalities were never going to be just mere formalities. The Graduation Ceremony was outside in the School's natural arena, aptly named the Salad Bowl, and the fifteen hundred people present were upstanding as the Graduation Class of '90 were led in by a kilted bagpiper! The Formal, a huge Ball for the Graduation Class and their parents, entailed being chauffeur driven from the champagne pre-party in a stretched limousine to a huge hotel downtown, then on to a breakfast post-party near School in the morning.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had all begun, it was over. I had to leave all the friends that I had made and spent the year with, and I was as distressed about that as I had been ten months before, when I had left York. The beginning had been hard, I've learned that all new starts are, but when you get over the early difficulties the rewards of an experience like the one I had are invaluable. It is a great reflection on the whole episode that the hardest part was finishing it all and leaving. It was so enjoyable that I'm doing it all again this summer, this time through B.U.N.A.C. The only thing I regret is that I'm not still in the sixth form to be able to benefit from the opportunities the scheme offers again.

Tim Cooper

Footnote: Stephen Brown, O.P., has been spending six months at a School in California, also as an EnglishSpeaking Union Scholar.