Leaving school at the age of eighteen was something of a non-event, although on my eighteenth birthday I collected my A-level certificates from my mother on stage at the school prize-giving evening (Dad was chairman of the Governors) and went to the local pub in my school uniform to celebrate (my sister was barmaid so I knew I’d get served). Although I had sufficient A-level passes I had no real interest in applying for a university place. It seemed to me a pathway to even more ‘school’ with maybe a teaching job somewhere; although I had no clear idea what my future might be, it didn’t include teaching. When the school found out I had not completed an UCCA application they quietly lost interest in me and let me leave unnoticed. I found temporary summer employment in the parks department of the local authority, basically doing grounds maintenance, a sort of 20th century estate worker. After a short period of unemployment I answered an advert for, and was offered, a position as a trainee quantity surveyor (QS) in Cardiff; something of a surprise because I had (very) long hair, on my shoulders, which was something of a challenge to the role of ‘professional gentleman’. I settled into the role and was told that, apart from having the highest suicide rate of the professions, the quickest way to progress was through a university course. I applied and, at interview, was offered a place at Aston University in Birmingham beginning in the September of 1974; a four year thin sandwich course, studying two terms in Birmingham and the rest of the year in employment in Cardiff.