I was kneedeep in the renovation work on our little guest cottage, when a car drove up, and a chap got out, cast his eyes over all the activities, and casually remarked, "This looks interesting." Annoyed by this intrusion, I briefly looked up and asked, "What is it to you?", suppressing at the last minute a muffled "Dickhead".
Undeterred, the man continued, "Roy is the name. Roy Goldsworthy. How are you, Peter?" Roy Goldsworthy? The Roy Goldsworthy a.k.a "Goldfinger" from my time on Bougainville? I gave the man a second look and, yes, through the ravishes of time I could detect the old debonair, easy-going Roy of almost fifty years ago when we were 'inmates' across the hallway at Camp 1. He'd emailed me some years before - see here - but I hadn't seen him 'in the flesh' since 1972.
What a pleasant surprise! Roy had flown from his home in Kuala Lumpur to Perth for some medical treatment, then across to the east coast to visit Canberra, after which he'd hired a car to come the 120km down the mountain to surprise me!
And, being the same old easy-going Roy, he immediately gave me a hand with the renovations. As an - albeit retired - electrical engineer, his expertise was very much needed for the electrical work and the tricky wiring of an overhead fan. He even fed the not-so-wild ducks in the morning!
With the guest cottage far from being habitable, we bedded him down in the library, but even after his departure three days later he still gave me much-needed advice by email - see here.
The guest cottage is all fixed up now and ready for another visit, Roy! Next time come with Pearly and stay longer so that we can show both of you our beautiful South Coast!
P.S. Since Roy's visit I've had a close look in the mirror myself and I must confess those fifty years have left their marks on me as well. They are a result of living so long and every wrinkle and scar has a story to tell which would be a bestseller if it was ever written down. Lucky for Roy, he still recognised me by my thick German accent.
