THROWBACK THURSDAY: Gublin

Andrew 'Gublin' Patterson with Matt at Adrian's wedding about 35 years ago

As I reflect on the early days of my gaming life in the occasional Throwback Thursday piece, the name Gublin will pop up every so often.

I guess my old Pembury pal Andrew "Gublin" Patterson represents all the people I played RPGs in my youth that I no longer have any contact with.

When I was at Pembury Primary School I - and another kid - won a scholarship to the prestigious Tonbridge School (the local equivalent of Hogwarts), although first we would have to attend prep school.

It turned out that this 'other kid' was Andy and he lived five doors down the road from me and was born a week before me.

Although we both went to different prep schools, Andy (who acquired the nickname Gublin at Holmewood House School because of his alleged similarity to the puppet creatures of that name!) and I became fast friends and soon developed a mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons.

We used to play epic games of D&D, almost all centring around his character, Egghead Aramioc, and mine, Staghind Starlight, and all pretty much of the "kick down door, kill monster, take treasure" school of hack'n'slash.

Deep characterisation was not our thing - although I do remember a particularly heated in-character argument about Staghind's plans to change her hairstyle! A misunderstanding had led Egghead to think she was going for the Princess Leia-style buns on the side of the head ... when she just wanted pigtails!

To be fair, we did take the games out of the dungeon, exploring (and conquering) whole worlds on massive sheets of paper that were like rolls of wallpaper spread across the floor of his parents' house.

But Egghead and Staghind eventually grew apart and began to adventure with other people...

After prep school, we both went to Skinners' in Tunbridge Wells - instead of Tonbridge School - and soon met Matt and Nick and became a 'gang of four'.

Eventually, especially when he went off to university, we drifted apart - as young friends do - because he was of the more "work hard, play hard" ethos and I was just plain lazy.

He also tried to shake the 'Gublin' nickname and return to the more 'mature' Andy... which, of course, we ignored.

Time moved on and the last we saw of Gublin was about 35 years ago. It was Matt and Nick's brother Adrian's wedding reception and Andy announced that he was going next door to check out the other reception going on in the hotel!

Over the years I heard tales from my parents - who met his mum in the village occasionally - that he got married, had a kid, worked for a big City bank, had given it all up, bought a yacht and sailed round the world.

I seem to remember, although it's all a bit of a blur these days, that he sent me a get well card when I was in hospital, but I haven't heard anything since dad passed away. Mum moved out of Pembury and so didn't see Andy's mum anymore.

We tried to track Andy down when Matt died in 2022, but to no avail.

Gublin is just one of many gamers who have come and gone out of my life; for instance, whatever happened to Tom Edwards, who introduced me to the Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy radio series and then ran a wild D&D game based on it? Or Guy Huckle and his coterie of gaming buddies that I befriended at Skinners?

More importantly, are they still gaming?

THROWBACK THURSDAY: Tricycle

Back in 2018, at the start of the festive season, Rachel, Alice, and I visited the Christmas On The Home Front event at the museum of Kent Life, and the first thing that caught my eye was an antique tricycle parked outside one of the old houses.

This tricycle, with its solid rubber wheels (rather than those namby-pamby inflatable tyres the kids have these days), was identical to the one I had as a child, in the early '70s.

Was the tricycle that my parents gave me second hand? Quite possibly, as we weren't rolling in money.

I have no recollection of it being some kind of "family heirloom", so I don't know my trike's provenance.

Perhaps tricycle design hadn't evolved since the war years and mine was, in fact, newer?

I'll never know, but I didn't expect to be transported so clearly back to my own childhood while attending a recreation of British life during the war years of the 1940s.

I have fond, and vivid, memories of trying to build a ramp - with a stack of bricks and some hardboard - in the steep drive of our family home in Pembury, to Evel Knievel myself over some imaginary gorge.

Instead, the ramp just toppled over sideways as I rode my trike up it!

Those solid tyres were memorable as well. There was no give in them, so every lump and bump I rode over was vibrated through the tyres, and the bike's metal frame, right into my tiny body.

On the positive side, I never got a flat. So, there was that.

And look how small it is. In my mind, over the years, it has, of course, grown with me, so to be reunited (in a way) with it just brought home how long ago this all was.

Alice isn't interested in my nostalgia

THROWBACK THURSDAY: Sic Itur Ad Astra

The Star Trek: Voyager episode One Small Step features a discussion of childhood dreams and ambitions.

Whenever I watch this, it strikes a particular chord with me as, at about the age that Chakotay decided he wanted to be a palaeontologist and Seven Of Nine was dreaming of becoming a ballerina, the only thing I wanted to be was an astronaut.

It wasn't even Star Trek (The Original Series) or other sci-fi shows of that era (early '70s) that drove this dream but simply the fact that I was growing up in age when men were still walking on the Moon and the "space race" was a vibrant and exciting part of everyday life.

Sadly, I also remember when how that dream got mothballed.

I was reading an article in an annual (either Star Trek or Doctor Who, and I'm leaning towards the latter) about the reality of space travel and I came across a paragraph that pointed out that if your craft re-entered the atmosphere at the wrong angle you'd burn up (I already had a childhood phobia about fire from being freaked out by The Amazing Mr Blunden as a six-year-old) and so that was it. Dream shattered. Astronaut ambitions shelved.

I wonder how different my life would be if, at that impressionable age, I hadn't read that article in an old annual and had instead pursued my space-travelling dreams through later life, studied the sciences at school (heck, any studying would have been an improvement), gone off to university at 18, taken a job in the aerospace industry or become a scientist or a pilot...

Talking of old annuals, as we were, another "freaky" story revolved around a pair that I picked up at a summer fête at the old Pembury Hospital (I think one might have been a Victor annual, but I can't remember the other, it might even have been a Doctor Who one).

One of favourite annuals as a kid
- but nothing to do with these anecdotes

What I do recall is that the two annuals were from different years and I didn't look inside them until I got home - only to discover that these two, otherwise unconnected books, both contained exactly the same illustrated article about UFOs! My little kid mind was officially blown!

The Pembury Hospital fêtes were fixture of the Knight's social calendar as, in their day, the events were always able to attract "big name stars" to open them.

One year we had Rod Hull & Emu (I'm only slightly ashamed to admit that I stroked Emu) and another time there were a couple of genuine Daleks for people to inspect (before my time, even William Hartnell, dressed as The First Doctor, opened the fête one year).

In later years, once I was a local journalist, the hospital fête gave me my first opportunity to interview Louise Jameson (The Fourth Doctor's companion, Leela).

She was thinking of moving to the area and so ended up grilling me on what I thought about Tunbridge Wells.

Either later that year or the next she moved to Rusthall, on the outskirts of Tunbridge Wells.  I like to think I played some small part in that decision.

THROWBACK THURSDAY: Ben

Back in 2016, Rachel was trying to sort out my disorganised paperwork and came upon some lovely photographs that had belonged to my parents.

Amongst one collection were a pair of tiny prints (9cm by 6cm), enlarged above by the power of modern science, that depict our old labrador Ben and our garden in Western Road, Tunbridge Wells.

I'm guessing these date from the mid-60s, either before I was born or just after, as we moved to Pembury when I was about three, and I have no memory - just stories from mum and dad - of Ben, who supposedly was my great protector, growling at anyone who approached my pram, or our house in Western Road.

This was the first time I had, consciously, seen pictures of either Ben or our old garden.

THROWBACK THURSDAY: The Pantiles

The Pantiles, circa 1900

Something a bit different this week for Throwback Thursday, a slice of local history.

The Pantiles, in Tunbridge Wells, is probably the most famous part of the town.

Wikipedia will tell you: "The Pantiles is a Georgian colonnade in the town of Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent, England. Formerly known as The Walks and the (Royal) Parade, it leads from the well that gave the town its name. The area was created following the discovery of a chalybeate spring in the early 17th century and is now a popular tourist attraction."

It is called The Pantiles simply because the Upper Walk was originally paved with pantiles in 1700, until these were replaced with stone flagging in 1793 and the area became known as The Parade.

Its original name came back into use in 1887 and it has remained The Pantiles ever since.

There are a number of pubs along there and these used to be a favourite haunt for Matt, Nick and I before we went to see live bands at The Forum, over on The Common.

TUNBRIDGE OR TONBRIDGE?

I currently live in Tonbridge (Tunbridge Wells' neighbouring older brother), but grew up in Pembury (a village just outside Tunbridge Wells).

I then lived for many years in and around Tunbridge Wells (with a break for university in Bournemouth and a spell in Sevenoaks) - until I moved in with Rachel  in Tonbridge.

Until 1870, Tonbridge was actually spelt 'Tunbridge', but it was changed to 'Tonbridge' by the General Post Office due to confusion with nearby Tunbridge Wells... despite Tonbridge being a much older settlement!

The "wells" in Tunbridge Wells refers to the aforementioned chalybeate spring, which sits at one end of The Pantiles.

Photochrom of the Pantiles, 1895 (via Wikipedia)

THROWBACK THURSDAY: University

Two of the things that helped get me through uni: The Manic Street Preachers and Star Wars

It's hard to believe that I graduated from Bournemouth University at the end of the last century!

My degree course - which is no longer offered - was Scriptwriting for Film and Television, and while it helped hone my writing and broaden my knowledge of cinema, I never really pursued a career in the arts, instead simply returning to what I knew best: local journalism.

Of course if you need proof of how long ago this was just check out the 'modern' technology below - at my work station in the last house we all lived in: the slimline PC and the discrete music system!

You can just make out, next to the CDs, my collection of West End Games' Star Wars RPG books and fanzines - my only real acknowledgement during that era of my gaming hobby.

It struck me, years later, that I never really gave the idea of active gaming a serious thought during my time in Bournemouth, instead relegating it to the reading of old supplements, and occasionally as an outlet for creative writing. 

The picture below is of my VHS video collection - note the top shelf with the Star Trek movies at one end and Star Wars at the other. This was pre-Prequels, so there were only three Star Wars films then.

And talking of cutting edge technology, please be impressed by my ancient top-loading video recorder on the bottom shelf. I loved that machine!

And that portable TV (with the Bjork picture on top) stayed with me from my later years of living with my parents in Pembury, through my own house in Tunbridge Wells, then uni, back to my parents', then flats in Sevenoaks and Tunbridge Wells, and right up until the time I moved in with Rachel.

As there are no notices on my notice board in this picture, I suspect it was taken just after we'd moved into this house (which Paul and I shared with Gordon, John and a young girl from a different course whose name has slipped my mind completely).

And finally, a cheeky (staged) photo of me reading on the toilet! Just for the hell of it...