It’s not easy to pinpoint that very first memory of being alive. The author’s first recollection however was the sharp shock and pain of a carelessly tossed brick landing fair and square on his young head. He was only three years old, having been born in rural Lincolnshire just a few years after the end of World War Two.This heart-warming story describes his early years in a Dad-built caravan parked on a bomb-site. These living conditions, that would nowadays be regarded as abject poverty, were accepted by his parents with cheerful determination. Here is a simpler life of hard work, few possessions, no plastic packaging and no internet.The humour and also the benefits of a good state education shine through. Young Peter was first caned for ‘drinking ink’ in primary school and spent most of his time in college listening to music and chasing girls. He worked on a French farm, played drums in a jazz quartet, learned to ski and fly planes and skipper yachts. A love of the sea infuses the pages with both terrifying storms and blissful Mediterranean voyages.Having failed in his ambition to become a pilot, Peter worked briefly in a cigarette factory, as a civil engineer and eventually started an international textile business from scratch. As a budding entrepreneur, he travelled widely, drumming up business, staying in cheap hotels and getting into hilarious scrapes along the way.