I remember the press party to launch the Nintendo 64. Entertainment was provided by Bob Monkhouse and he was absolutely fantastic. With each joke you could see him working out how far he could go with the adult stuff and taking it as far as he could. A true professional. I reckoned that for his 45-minute or so spot he earned as much as I did that year. I walked all the way home from Hammersmith. My legs really ached the next day.

I remember George Butler, the school caretaker, who was also a justice of the peace. The headmaster was also a JP, which was, on the face of it, a bit weird. George passed away recently.

I remember the musty smell in the basement of Elmfield, the building in the middle of the school site. It had originally been the actual school, but was now given over to the library, the tuck shop and several spare classrooms, and George Butler and his family lived on the top floor. But the basement was used for storage by the stage gang. It was also used for smoking (but not by me!) and there was a good selection of 1960s (ie innocuous) pornography - Playboy, Mayfair, Parade etc. To this day, a musty smell puts me in mind of 1960s porn.

I remember Mick Foster - aka Fester.

I remember Ali Wellobbs. Well that's how Uncle Vic used to say it. We thought he was joking, which he usually was, but he insisted he was an actor. And he was - but his name was Halliwell Hobbs. You see we didn't have much more than three channels in those days, so no endless repeats of old films, and we didn't have the Internet Movie Database to check on either.

I remember when Martin Simpson was over here on tour one year (he had previously moved to the States) I followed him around the Home Counties going to every gig in range, taking in the Ram, Nettlebed and Banbury (or was it Newbury?). He must have thought he had a stalker. He's back living over here now so I don't feel the need quite so much.

I remember singing Yarmouth Town in a festival singaround with several of the Wilson Family in attendance. They made me sound quite good.

I remember "Music and Movement". It was on the radio and we had to be down in the school hall at the right time for it. Thursday mornings I think it was.

I remember I used to cry every time I saw Lord of the Flies at the bit where they kill Simon. That was watching it on a big screen. Although I cry during every episode of ER and that's on a small screen.

I remember seeing Patrick Stewart as Oberon in an RSC production of A Midsummer Night's Dream - the whole cast was so full of energy I marched back across the bridge to Waterloo Station in a state of elation.

I remember going for a ride into New Malden on the back of a scooter during a party we had after one of the Tiffin School fairs. Richard Faulkner drove - though it wasn't his scooter and as far as I know he didn't know how because I had never seen him on one before. It probably belonged to his girlfriend's brother, Fran. We were quite drunk. He was going all over the place and we nipped into a pub - probably the Railway. We could see a Panda car driving around outside so I said it would probably be best if I drove it back, despite the fact that I had never driven a scooter before either. Like I said, quite drunk. So the policeman pulled us over and Richard walked off, although the policeman made him come back and arrested me for having no licence or insurance and for being a complete idiot. I think the PC felt a little sorry for me, because he could obviously have charged me with a lot worse. My dad managed to get me through my driving test in a very short time so I could put up a reasonable display in the dock. The magistrates took kindly to me as well because I only got a three-month ban. A complete idiot. Quite drunk.

I remember singing in Carl Orff's Carmina Burana with the Tiffin Oratorio Choir at a church in Wandsworth. I had to borrow my dad's dinner jacket.

I remember a baritone solo - "Three kings from Persian lands afar" - in the Tiffin Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at Kingston Parish Church for the past couple of years that has been absolutely stunning. Colin Prince's tenor solo each year used to make your hairs stand on end, but he retired a few years ago.