Hitting the big six

Birthday pint in the Willow Walk, Victoria

I was looking forward to my teens. Apart from the spots on my face, it was a happy time; I was growing up and I’d always been in a hurry to grow up.

Reaching 20 was hardly worth the note. There was a slight feeling of not being a teenager any more and being a proper grown up, but it passed with barely a nod. Being 30 was OK, I had two children and no money, but I felt young and healthy and I still did at 40. We made a bit more of a fuss about that; we had a couple of nights at a five-star hotel at Chelsea harbour and a meal at Ken Holm’s Chinese restaurant (that was when Chinese food was still trendy).

Then I reached 50 and it felt so miserable; I didn’t want to be 50. We did mark it with friends at a dinner at the Haycock in Wansford, which was nice, but for the first time in my life I was feeling my age. Not in the sense that I was feeling ill or even unhealthy, but I was conscious that I wasn’t a young man any more. The aches and pains of old age were showing their first signs - barely warning signs - but they were there.

I’d expected that 60, which I reached on 18 July, 2013, would be even worse. I was definitely grumpy in the weeks leading up to it and the aches and pains are now well established - I didn’t want to be 60!

In the event, I’ve rather enjoyed myself and it has been a time when I’ve made some fairly major decisions. Well, one major decision really, I handed my notice in at the Press Association and will retire at the end of this year.

I’d always rather fancifully thought that I would retire at 60 and I’ve been doing the calculations for a little while to be sure that I could afford it. There’s little point in retiring early if you don’t have enough money to enjoy your retirement. Having handed in my notice, I’ve felt much better and so 60 is feeling like a new start rather than being another decade of my life ticked off the tally.

I also had rather a nice time. Instead of taking the day off, I was going into work and rather than have a drink at lunchtime or after work, I thought I’d try to persuade people to join me for a full English breakfast at the Willow Walk, the Wetherspoon’s pub opposite the office. I said I wanted a fry-up and a pint of lager. I wasn’t sure how many people would make it for 8am, but there was a really good turn-out and even Sam and Lucy came along (I’d stayed with them the night before so that I didn’t have to get a ridiculous train on my birthday morning).

I had been disappointed that you couldn’t buy a drink until after 9am, but Lawrie had suggested filling a couple of his hip flasks with brandy. Now there’s an idea, I thought ...

Instead of brandy, I got half bottles of whisky (for the coffee) and vodka (for the orange juice) and they were hidden in Laura’s handbag for topping up under the table. Marc came along (our boss) and he gave us leave to be a bit late in; and also picked up the tab on the company, which cheered everyone up. At 9am, I was able to have a pint of beer (which tasted surprisingly good). Laura and Davina had got in the pub early to push tables together and decorate them with balloons and they had also planned a short cabaret as a finale to breakfast  which was three songs - I Wanna Be Like You, Calling Mr Rayner and The Eric Rayner (to the tune of the Macarena). You can see the YouTube version here.

There were more drinks in the evening and I was given a bottle of Oban whisky (my favourite), which I started on Friday. It was one of three birthday bottles, the others being Ancnoc (a new one for me) from Max and a bottle of Norfolk Whisky from the St George’s distillery (from my sister). The Norfolk whisky was a presentation bottle for the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. It might be 60 years since my birth, but it’s also 60 since the Coronation.

On the Saturday, there was a family party. Sam and Lucy came back on the Friday night, Max and Inna on the Saturday morning, Pauline and Chris came round and also my sister. Tom had taken charge of the cooking and made chicken tagine with cous-cous, with barbecued sardines for starters and sea bream for him and Lucia. We sat out until quite late with the chiminea roaring away, although Sam had brought some logs from London and they created a lot of smoke. We tried to weed them out, but every so often one would get through and put out a pile of dark smoke. It’s amazing how much resin some pine trees have in them; the wood burned really well and was very hot, but with a swirling wind, we were all going to smell a little smoky.

My birthday girfts included an olive tree from Pauline and Chris (which I need to find a good home for) and a cider press from Sam (and Lucy) and Tom (and Lucia). Sam had been storing it in his shed in London for a few weeks and I’d thought I was getting a new chiminea, so it was a complete surprise. It came with a book on craft cider making (which I’ve read through once already) and a couple of pulp bags which fit inside the press.

I have been talking about making cider in my retirement and this gift has just ensured that it is one ‘daft’ retirement idea that I will have to bring to actuality.

It also means I need to get hold of an apple scritter, fermentation bins, maturation demijohns, various chemicals, some measuring instruments, chemicals, a crown corker, crown caps and all the empty beer bottles I can find in the coming year.

Actually, I’m quite excited by it all. I used to enjoy beer and wine making. I had a go at cider once, but my attempts at bottle conditioned cider almost blew up the pantry and the bottles were under so much pressure by the time I’d inspected them that when I opened the tops all the cider sprayed out like a fountain. I am older and wiser now (and I’ll start with some still cider).

On the Sunday we had slow-cooked ribs (finished on the barbecue) to a Hairy Bikers’ recipe suggested by Sam and they were delicious.

In the morning, we played golf (just a couple of turns around the par three course) and I managed to triumph - well it was my birthday. Actually, I was hitting it fairly well, which bodes well for my retirement plans as well. I took a pitcher and a putter and managed four pars on the last nine holes.

I wasn’t looking forward to being 60, but my family, friends and workmates have been so generous, thoughtful and nice, that’s I’ve actually had a really good couple of weeks.

Not looking forward to 70 though!