Exciting life stories...
Discussion
The story he told us about the communist school (that he escaped from) was very interesting. The only 'sylabus' was communism - works of Lennin, Stalin etc - and any mistakes were met with a beating.
However, if the class got all the answers right they would have sweets rained down on them from a net kept up in the ceiling.
However, if the class got all the answers right they would have sweets rained down on them from a net kept up in the ceiling.
TTwiggy said:
The story he told us about the communist school (that he escaped from) was very interesting. The only 'sylabus' was communism - works of Lennin, Stalin etc - and any mistakes were met with a beating.
A friend of mine doesn't talk much about his schooling BUT he has told me about the times when the Russians left young recruits at various road junctions, then forgot about them, so that the locals would take them food, but they'd quite often freeze to death in the street at their "post".monthefish said:
King Herald said:
Don't any PHers have anything to say about their own lives??? 
Well I'm a Cat 10 (FS1) Skydiver with a few hundred jumps to my name (max jump height 15,000 feet) but I didn't think it was worthy of mentioning.... 
On that note, BASE number + 4000+ jumps. Otherwise... Not really. Grew up in the UK. Moved to US. Moving to Hong Kong. Intend to move about 75 more times.
I did get a camper van confiscated from me on the Syrian border.
s.I don't know if you'd class it as exciting, but this is me..
Fortunate enough to attend a public school, unfortunate that I made no use of it. Left (chucked out) after O levels. 1986.
Went to a large construction company to learn to be a civil engineer. After I had been with them 18 months they scrapped the training programme. Leaving me at a loose end.
So I started driving a 3.5 ton pickup around the country for a friend of my mothers, not great pay but I enjoyed the wandering around the country. This chap paid for my HGV licence when I reached 21. 1990.
I had a nasty motorbike accident and got a 10k payout. I bought a 1962 40 foot bedford coach at the age of 22 and set out around europe with 3 friends, 2 guys and a girl. The 4 of us travelled until a few weeks after leaving the UK we broke down on a beach in the north of Corfu. Corfu played a part in my life for the next few years, I worked on a watersports driving the speedboat that did the paraglides for the next 7 years or so. In the winters I travelled.
I had a bit of a fallout with my Greek boss and came home for the winter, probably about 1997.
I saw an ad in a paper for HGV drivers, trucking to Eastern europe, Russia and Ukraine. Off we go.
This was unbelievable. Really good money and really good fun. Exploring those towns and cities not long after the wall had come down was amazing. Driving all the way down to the Black Sea coast, then a weekend off while the truck got unloaded, I could go on forever.
But winter was cold. After the 1st one I decided that I wouldn't do it again. The top lifting off your batteries in the night with the frost, oil frozen in the sump, 3 or 4 weeks drive from home. Character building to say the least. But got through it.
So for 2000 millenium I went to India with an old friend. We bought Enfield Bullets and set out from Goa. We spent 3 months touring the north of India did probably 4000 miles, Hampi, Varanassi, Agra to see the Taj Mahal etc etc. Fantastic trip.
Then back to the truck, we were going deeper into Russia now, as far as Ufa in the foothills of the Ural mountains. And still to Ukraine. I remember watching Dynamo Kiev play Arsenal at their ground outside Kiev with the security guards from the factory I was delivering to, tickets paid by me. Priceless.
Next was Africa, I have an Aunt in Port Elizabeth so I went to see her for the next Christmas. I went to Cape Town for New Year with a friend of my South African cousin. I met a Belgian guy in a bar, Paul something, he'd been Cousteau's right hand man exploring the Southern Oceans and researching shark behaviour. Anyway he was off back home for a funeral but his job on a game fishing boat was open. Next morning I was at the waterfront introducing myself to the owner of 'Wild Thing'. This was a cool boat, twin turbo diesel engines and we would either fish for sharks between Cape Town and Robben Island or head out 60 or 70 miles after Tuna and so on. I did this for a couple of weeks, but Paul was on his way back from the funeral.
I met someone else who owned an overland adventure company and he offered me a job. So I used to leave Cape Town, head North to the Namibian border with my cargo of up to 20 guests, Aussi and Kiwi backpackers mostly. Through the border, across the Namib Desert to Windhoek. Over to Swarkopmund on the coast next, then East to Maun in Botswana and the Okavango Delta for a few days. Victoria Falls next, then back through Zimbabwe to South Africa and on to Cape Town. I did a few of these runs, but they weren't well paid at all so when spring came I was ready to head back to Europe to make some more money with the Russian job.
It wasn't to be. In my absence the EU had decided to let the Russians, Georgians Khazaks etc drive in europe on their own licences, so my job was gone. Ah well.
I spent the next year travelling Spain running a whisky promotion. I had an artic all made up to be like the inside of a whisky distillery and we did most of the cities and towns with it including a week in every border crossing in the Pyranees. Fantastic.
But 2003 found me back here at a loose end and I had met Helen who is still my partner. I went to Oulton Park for an assessment to work as a race instructor, I had done a bit in earlier life. From there I have built up a driving / drifting experience company and have a dozen or so cars including a new V10 R8.
I'm only 40, so plenty of time for more travels. Would be good to sell up when I'm 50 and head off again.
Well that's the story so far.
Fortunate enough to attend a public school, unfortunate that I made no use of it. Left (chucked out) after O levels. 1986.
Went to a large construction company to learn to be a civil engineer. After I had been with them 18 months they scrapped the training programme. Leaving me at a loose end.
So I started driving a 3.5 ton pickup around the country for a friend of my mothers, not great pay but I enjoyed the wandering around the country. This chap paid for my HGV licence when I reached 21. 1990.
I had a nasty motorbike accident and got a 10k payout. I bought a 1962 40 foot bedford coach at the age of 22 and set out around europe with 3 friends, 2 guys and a girl. The 4 of us travelled until a few weeks after leaving the UK we broke down on a beach in the north of Corfu. Corfu played a part in my life for the next few years, I worked on a watersports driving the speedboat that did the paraglides for the next 7 years or so. In the winters I travelled.
I had a bit of a fallout with my Greek boss and came home for the winter, probably about 1997.
I saw an ad in a paper for HGV drivers, trucking to Eastern europe, Russia and Ukraine. Off we go.
This was unbelievable. Really good money and really good fun. Exploring those towns and cities not long after the wall had come down was amazing. Driving all the way down to the Black Sea coast, then a weekend off while the truck got unloaded, I could go on forever.
But winter was cold. After the 1st one I decided that I wouldn't do it again. The top lifting off your batteries in the night with the frost, oil frozen in the sump, 3 or 4 weeks drive from home. Character building to say the least. But got through it.
So for 2000 millenium I went to India with an old friend. We bought Enfield Bullets and set out from Goa. We spent 3 months touring the north of India did probably 4000 miles, Hampi, Varanassi, Agra to see the Taj Mahal etc etc. Fantastic trip.
Then back to the truck, we were going deeper into Russia now, as far as Ufa in the foothills of the Ural mountains. And still to Ukraine. I remember watching Dynamo Kiev play Arsenal at their ground outside Kiev with the security guards from the factory I was delivering to, tickets paid by me. Priceless.
Next was Africa, I have an Aunt in Port Elizabeth so I went to see her for the next Christmas. I went to Cape Town for New Year with a friend of my South African cousin. I met a Belgian guy in a bar, Paul something, he'd been Cousteau's right hand man exploring the Southern Oceans and researching shark behaviour. Anyway he was off back home for a funeral but his job on a game fishing boat was open. Next morning I was at the waterfront introducing myself to the owner of 'Wild Thing'. This was a cool boat, twin turbo diesel engines and we would either fish for sharks between Cape Town and Robben Island or head out 60 or 70 miles after Tuna and so on. I did this for a couple of weeks, but Paul was on his way back from the funeral.
I met someone else who owned an overland adventure company and he offered me a job. So I used to leave Cape Town, head North to the Namibian border with my cargo of up to 20 guests, Aussi and Kiwi backpackers mostly. Through the border, across the Namib Desert to Windhoek. Over to Swarkopmund on the coast next, then East to Maun in Botswana and the Okavango Delta for a few days. Victoria Falls next, then back through Zimbabwe to South Africa and on to Cape Town. I did a few of these runs, but they weren't well paid at all so when spring came I was ready to head back to Europe to make some more money with the Russian job.
It wasn't to be. In my absence the EU had decided to let the Russians, Georgians Khazaks etc drive in europe on their own licences, so my job was gone. Ah well.
I spent the next year travelling Spain running a whisky promotion. I had an artic all made up to be like the inside of a whisky distillery and we did most of the cities and towns with it including a week in every border crossing in the Pyranees. Fantastic.
But 2003 found me back here at a loose end and I had met Helen who is still my partner. I went to Oulton Park for an assessment to work as a race instructor, I had done a bit in earlier life. From there I have built up a driving / drifting experience company and have a dozen or so cars including a new V10 R8.
I'm only 40, so plenty of time for more travels. Would be good to sell up when I'm 50 and head off again.
Well that's the story so far.
God some great tales here. I was going to nominate my late Dad...
Born in Blackburn in 1927 to a preacher - my Granddad's life is another tale. He ended up being evacuated to Canada on a ship aged 13.
The ship never made it, being torpedoed in the Atlantic. He saved his little brother by chucking him over the side of the ship into the darkness. They'd missed the lifeboat. He then chucked himself overboard. Both ended up in the lifeboat but becasue these things happen, my Dad couldn't find little bro and for a day or so thought he'd thrown him to his death.
After WWII he joined the army and within weeks was promoted to Sergeant at 19.
Rescued scores of people from a train crash with his army unit one night, just after giving a briefing to the guys about how they would handle a civil emergency - a train crash.
Volunteered for and got involved with special units - not SAS - infantry, bridge demolition counter insurgency type stuff, but ended up minding prisoners of war and teaching them English.
Offered a commission and a Uni education by the army, but turned it down to becoem a journalist.
Local paper and then Fleet Street by the age of 22 or 23. Sent to Iran as a foreign correspondent. Got kidnapped by some muslim group (Bin Laden's Granddad or such like) Got taken, he thought to Afghanistan. Turned out it wasnt a kidnap, but their way of getting a journo to talk to their boss man. Still it was all blindfolds and gunpoint stuff.
Filed the story, and was then outed as a spy by the Iran government. Got out of the country just as they were closing in on him. Made the national front pages there being accused of being a spy.
Never part of MI6 but had a lot of chats with them on his return to the UK.
During all this, he married my mum, his childhood sweetheart.
1960s, he went into TV, creating an at the time well known political TV programme on ITV. This show got the first interview with a Royal - Prince Phillip - in 1968.
During all this, I came along. He and Mum had me in their early 40s. Very unusual back in 1970 to have such old parents.
Chucked his TV career in to write a book. A travel book he needed to write. A Big fleet street job was to follow but it all fell through.
Bit buggered financially, he started all over again eventually retiring from writing a couple of years before his death.
He recovered things enough have a string of nice cars - well it is a car website so it had to be mentoned - and to buy me a house.
Months before he died, he was on national TV being interviewed about the fact that a word he used is credited to him in the OED.
Then my brilliant, inspiring wonderful inquiring, mischeivious, hard drinking, infuriating beloved Dad died at 2300 on 23 October 2006 - Ten years to the minute after his younger brother died.
His last words to me. "Stop being so bloody stupid will you."
Born in Blackburn in 1927 to a preacher - my Granddad's life is another tale. He ended up being evacuated to Canada on a ship aged 13.
The ship never made it, being torpedoed in the Atlantic. He saved his little brother by chucking him over the side of the ship into the darkness. They'd missed the lifeboat. He then chucked himself overboard. Both ended up in the lifeboat but becasue these things happen, my Dad couldn't find little bro and for a day or so thought he'd thrown him to his death.
After WWII he joined the army and within weeks was promoted to Sergeant at 19.
Rescued scores of people from a train crash with his army unit one night, just after giving a briefing to the guys about how they would handle a civil emergency - a train crash.
Volunteered for and got involved with special units - not SAS - infantry, bridge demolition counter insurgency type stuff, but ended up minding prisoners of war and teaching them English.
Offered a commission and a Uni education by the army, but turned it down to becoem a journalist.
Local paper and then Fleet Street by the age of 22 or 23. Sent to Iran as a foreign correspondent. Got kidnapped by some muslim group (Bin Laden's Granddad or such like) Got taken, he thought to Afghanistan. Turned out it wasnt a kidnap, but their way of getting a journo to talk to their boss man. Still it was all blindfolds and gunpoint stuff.
Filed the story, and was then outed as a spy by the Iran government. Got out of the country just as they were closing in on him. Made the national front pages there being accused of being a spy.
Never part of MI6 but had a lot of chats with them on his return to the UK.
During all this, he married my mum, his childhood sweetheart.
1960s, he went into TV, creating an at the time well known political TV programme on ITV. This show got the first interview with a Royal - Prince Phillip - in 1968.
During all this, I came along. He and Mum had me in their early 40s. Very unusual back in 1970 to have such old parents.
Chucked his TV career in to write a book. A travel book he needed to write. A Big fleet street job was to follow but it all fell through.
Bit buggered financially, he started all over again eventually retiring from writing a couple of years before his death.
He recovered things enough have a string of nice cars - well it is a car website so it had to be mentoned - and to buy me a house.
Months before he died, he was on national TV being interviewed about the fact that a word he used is credited to him in the OED.
Then my brilliant, inspiring wonderful inquiring, mischeivious, hard drinking, infuriating beloved Dad died at 2300 on 23 October 2006 - Ten years to the minute after his younger brother died.
His last words to me. "Stop being so bloody stupid will you."
Edited by wildcat45 on Saturday 12th June 10:32
JohnnyJones said:
I don't know if you'd class it as exciting, but this is me.......
Holy phuck! 
And I thought I'd had some adventures in my travels.
Did you ever get thrown in jail? I did, twice, once in Thailand, once in the Philippines. Not for very long, but it were not a tasty experience.
And to think some people just say "I'm a steak and chips lad, me, I'd rather stay at home and have a quiet pint down the local, with me mates.." and never get further in life than a week in Skegness......
drivin_me_nuts said:
My partner. Grew up in Iran; has a great kind of colonial life in the world's biggest refinery town. Swam for her county, was going to medical school, war came, had to leave literally fight her way out of her town away from the invading Iraqis. Fought in the war, was a medical trainee. Scooped up brains and god knows what else. Watched countless friends die in the war and be murdered by a regime. Left, came to England barely speaking English. Studied at college, studied at university, got a degree, masters and a PhD whilst managing a restaurant. Ran a number of successful postdocs, prodcued some rather noteworthy and challenging papers and has been applauded a fair number of times by some highly significant and noteworthy scientists, including Nobel prize winners. Has taught students of biotechnology and medical students, set up a business, helps people step away from some pretty messy mental issues including bipolar, depression, cancer and PTSD. still has time for fun, can drink most chaps under the table and is about one of the sharpest and feistest people I have ever met. And she's five foot something tiny and weighs even less but when she enters a room, everybody knows.
I think that's a pretty interesting life.
just stumbled upon one of your other threads. from this thread, she seems like an amazing woman who's led a varied and fulfilling life. from your others, you seem like a great bloke.I think that's a pretty interesting life.
I know this is only the internet and we don't know each other, but I really hope everything works out for the best.
drivin_me_nuts said:
My partner. Grew up in Iran; has a great kind of colonial life in the world's biggest refinery town. Swam for her county, was going to medical school, war came, had to leave literally fight her way out of her town away from the invading Iraqis. Fought in the war, was a medical trainee. Scooped up brains and god knows what else. Watched countless friends die in the war and be murdered by a regime. Left, came to England barely speaking English. Studied at college, studied at university, got a degree, masters and a PhD whilst managing a restaurant. Ran a number of successful postdocs, prodcued some rather noteworthy and challenging papers and has been applauded a fair number of times by some highly significant and noteworthy scientists, including Nobel prize winners. Has taught students of biotechnology and medical students, set up a business, helps people step away from some pretty messy mental issues including bipolar, depression, cancer and PTSD. still has time for fun, can drink most chaps under the table and is about one of the sharpest and feistest people I have ever met. And she's five foot something tiny and weighs even less but when she enters a room, everybody knows.
I think that's a pretty interesting life.
I have to say as a woman I read things like that and it makes me sit up a think about my own extensive shortcomings. It makes you realise that you can and should try and have it and do it all. Sadly in comparison I am one of lifes failures - haven't done anything of note, never will do anything of note. I can't even juggle 3 small chidlren (admittedly one is ill), charity work and a fulltime job - I have had to give up working. I think that's a pretty interesting life.
Coco H said:
drivin_me_nuts said:
My partner. Grew up in Iran; has a great kind of colonial life in the world's biggest refinery town. Swam for her county, was going to medical school, war came, had to leave literally fight her way out of her town away from the invading Iraqis. Fought in the war, was a medical trainee. Scooped up brains and god knows what else. Watched countless friends die in the war and be murdered by a regime. Left, came to England barely speaking English. Studied at college, studied at university, got a degree, masters and a PhD whilst managing a restaurant. Ran a number of successful postdocs, prodcued some rather noteworthy and challenging papers and has been applauded a fair number of times by some highly significant and noteworthy scientists, including Nobel prize winners. Has taught students of biotechnology and medical students, set up a business, helps people step away from some pretty messy mental issues including bipolar, depression, cancer and PTSD. still has time for fun, can drink most chaps under the table and is about one of the sharpest and feistest people I have ever met. And she's five foot something tiny and weighs even less but when she enters a room, everybody knows.
I think that's a pretty interesting life.
I have to say as a woman I read things like that and it makes me sit up a think about my own extensive shortcomings. It makes you realise that you can and should try and have it and do it all. Sadly in comparison I am one of lifes failures - haven't done anything of note, never will do anything of note. I can't even juggle 3 small chidlren (admittedly one is ill), charity work and a fulltime job - I have had to give up working. I think that's a pretty interesting life.
TVR Moneypit said:
I suspect that if anyone did, then they would rather keep things to themselves for the following reasons....
You never know who is reading these threads.
and / or
Maybe other PH'ers wouldn't believe them.
You don't have to admit to everything, the sex in the cupboard that went tragically wrong, the drug charges in Morocco, that sort of thing. You never know who is reading these threads.
and / or
Maybe other PH'ers wouldn't believe them.
And there will always be a Pher somewhere who doesn't beleive your story, but surely more than six PHers have had a little personal excitement they could put to paper????
Or is life really that boring for most people???
I did think this would be a great thread, but it seems to have exposed a weakness of some description: Either PH is full of boring people, with boring lives, or scared people with skeletons ten abreast in their cupboards.
I consider my life to be nothing out of the ordinary, however in my line of work I occasionally get the opportunity to meet some of the 'old comrades'.
Last year I was at an affiliation dinner with a local branch of ex-submariners. I was talking to the chap on my right who was serving when the RN was introducing its first nuclear submarines and he had some interesting tales to spin. After an hour or so he stopped and said 'Have you spoken to Harry yet? He's got an interesting story to tell'
He pointed across the table to a quiet, unassuming bloke well into his 80's. Harry wasn't interested in bigging himself up, so the chap on my right told the story on his behalf.
It turned out that Harry served as a submariner during WWII which in itself was a dangerous occupation. Only 50% of submariners who served during the war were alive at the end to tell the tale. Harry was serving on a diesel boat which was on patrol in the med disrupting enemy shipping. The boat spotted a large merchant vessel being escorted by some Italian destroyers.
They sunk the merchant vessel but were pursued by the Italians. A game of cat and mouse ensued with the boat finally being depth charged and sinking fast. Some of the chaps managed to escape but on the surface their fate was far from certain. They were strafed by machine gun fire from enemy aircraft until only 7 of the escapees were left alive.
They managed to get to the North African shore but couldn't decide between them which way to go: this was at the time when Rommel and Auchinleck were fighting it out for control of the region. 4 chaps went one way and were promptly captured and made prsioners of war. The remaining 3 went in the opposite direction but without food, water or equipment it was hard going.
They eventually took refuge in a village (I forget where) and Harry was taken in by a family to live out the rest of the war. The family had a daughter not much younger than Harry and they soon fell in love. When the war was finally over Harry returned to Britain and married the daughter - and who do you think was sat next Harry at the dinner a mere 55 years later? None other than same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.
Humble and unassuming to a fault, he wouldn't even let me buy them a drink. What a legend.
Last year I was at an affiliation dinner with a local branch of ex-submariners. I was talking to the chap on my right who was serving when the RN was introducing its first nuclear submarines and he had some interesting tales to spin. After an hour or so he stopped and said 'Have you spoken to Harry yet? He's got an interesting story to tell'
He pointed across the table to a quiet, unassuming bloke well into his 80's. Harry wasn't interested in bigging himself up, so the chap on my right told the story on his behalf.
It turned out that Harry served as a submariner during WWII which in itself was a dangerous occupation. Only 50% of submariners who served during the war were alive at the end to tell the tale. Harry was serving on a diesel boat which was on patrol in the med disrupting enemy shipping. The boat spotted a large merchant vessel being escorted by some Italian destroyers.
They sunk the merchant vessel but were pursued by the Italians. A game of cat and mouse ensued with the boat finally being depth charged and sinking fast. Some of the chaps managed to escape but on the surface their fate was far from certain. They were strafed by machine gun fire from enemy aircraft until only 7 of the escapees were left alive.
They managed to get to the North African shore but couldn't decide between them which way to go: this was at the time when Rommel and Auchinleck were fighting it out for control of the region. 4 chaps went one way and were promptly captured and made prsioners of war. The remaining 3 went in the opposite direction but without food, water or equipment it was hard going.
They eventually took refuge in a village (I forget where) and Harry was taken in by a family to live out the rest of the war. The family had a daughter not much younger than Harry and they soon fell in love. When the war was finally over Harry returned to Britain and married the daughter - and who do you think was sat next Harry at the dinner a mere 55 years later? None other than same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.
Humble and unassuming to a fault, he wouldn't even let me buy them a drink. What a legend.
Simps said:
Is it just me that finds this thread a little depressing?
I'm young (19) but I don't think I'll never have even half of the life experiences mentioned in this thread, and chances are I'll never have the balls to go out and try to amass such wonderful and inspirational stories.
When I was 19 the inspector in my machine shop was gas-bagging to me, while I was waffling on about all my teenage BS plans to do this and that, go here, go there etc. I'm young (19) but I don't think I'll never have even half of the life experiences mentioned in this thread, and chances are I'll never have the balls to go out and try to amass such wonderful and inspirational stories
.He said
"young 'un, get our arse out of this factory, go do something with your life, because if you stay here you'll be just like the rest of us, part of the furniture, and soon you'll be 29, then 39, then 69, and you'll ask yourself just where the hell did your life go. But it'll be too late then"That was 31 years ago, and it took me ten more years before I actually followed his advice.
I always remember that conversation, and even to this day I still think about that guy occasionally. Last I heard he was still at the same company, worked his way up to foreman, but he'd had a nervous breakdown and moved back to the shop floor. He would be over 60 now.
Just part of the furniture.Simps said:
Is it just me that finds this thread a little depressing?
I'm young (19) but I don't think I'll never have even half of the life experiences mentioned in this thread, and chances are I'll never have the balls to go out and try to amass such wonderful and inspirational stories.
I'm 22, and am thinking in much the same way. I'm just finishing up my education (in my last week of a Legal Practice Course), and I can't help but think that I'm probably going to end up just following the route of getting a training contract, becoming a solicitor, and then merely living/working for the rest of my life - I've got to do that until I pay off my student loans at least, which being 34k won't come quickly. I think that if I didn't have that debt I'd probably be looking at going to live somewhere completely different for a year or two - I quite like the idea of Asia. I'm young (19) but I don't think I'll never have even half of the life experiences mentioned in this thread, and chances are I'll never have the balls to go out and try to amass such wonderful and inspirational stories
.Well, my story is not maybe what you would call exciting compared to other ones I have read on this thread but it is more one I am proud of for turning bad into good. Our family as we were growing up were the Clampitts of our town (for those of you who don't know what that means, it means we were the poorest in our street). All the families were well off and we were the skanks with the hand me down clothes etc. Because of this the idiots (that's me being polite) in school bullied us (myself and my brother) all through our school life. Nobody wanted to sit with us "in case I catch something" and so on and so on. We were told we would never amount to anything, never get a job, never get married, have children etc. In fact we were nothing. Because of all this going on and being a child you tend to believe what people say you are. So I wasn't interested in studying. I wanted to have frineds and become part of the crowd but that wasn't to be. So all through school I learned nothing and had no interest in studying. So when O'level time came around, you guessed it I failed them all. My brother managed to get a couple. I left school unable to get into uni or college and slowly I was turning into this person I was told I was going to become. I had never had a g/f either. When I was 18 after two years on the dole I got a job in Tesco. Big wow. I hated it but had no enthusiam in life, still believing I was meant to be a skank. However, one day I read a book called 'The Secret' which changed my whole life. Suddenly I had enthusiasm and decided I was going to be something. While working in Tesco I enrolled in night classes. To cut a long story short, by the time I was 23 I had 6 O'Grades and 6 Highers. Maths, History, English, German, Biology and Chemistry. I also studied and passed Psychology on a home learning course. After that I got into Glasgow Uni to study law. I am now 45 and have been a lawyer for ten years. I also have a lovely wife but unfortunately we couldn't have children. We travel all over the world as travel is our passion, having been to Australia, Canada, China, France, Germany, Switzerland, etc etc etc. Now when I bump into the skanks in my class they still do not speak to me as they still think I work in Tesco (they don't bother to ask). We have a great social life with loads of good friends and I think how easily my life could have turned out so differently, ie I could have turne to drink, drugs etc but I believe the one and only way of revenge in this life is success!!! Hope this is the kind of story you like to hear.
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