I went to Sidcot in 1947. The School was much smaller then. "Living adventurously" was certainly more possible there than my life on the edge of suburban London. We were actively encouraged to explore the hills around us, and in the higher forms we were able to cycle over a wider area of the countryside, including trips to the seaside or Brean Down.  I left School in 1953, the coronation year. 

For a number of years after I completed my degree, I worked for the London County Council in the Children's Department as a Child Welfare Officer, then following the birth of our two children I moved to run an extra-rural course for the University of London. The course ran one day a week from October to May. After about 10 years, we agreed that I would give up work so we were able to visit Pakistan in the winter months when the weather was not so hot. My husband's parents had passed away but many of his family were still living there and we all got on very well.  We visited them  in Karachi, Islamabad and Peshawer and visited friends in Lahore. Most of our holiday was not unlike suburban life in the UK, but some holidays were interrupted by episodes of 'Living Adventurously,' with little effort from us. 

Our first adventure was a tribal gathering on the borders of Afganistan - then under Russian control. Dilawer's cousin, a police chief, took us with him when he drove up the Khyber in order to reward tribal leaders who had handed over a a major criminal from Peshawai who had taken refuge in the tribal area.  We were escorted by two Jeeps full of armed men. As I was the only woman present, I felt a little conspicuious! We were immediately ushered across the border into a dusty car park in Afganistan to see for ourselves that no Russians were present in this part of the country. Dilawer's cousin had laid on a very enjoyable feast in the rest house on the Pakistan side of the frontier. Only one or two spoke English and I don't speak Pashto so I was not much involved in the conversation and remained the only woman present. 

Our next 'adventure' was at the Peshawar Golf Club, managed by the Pakistan Air Force. My husband discovered that a small block of flats on the golf course was let to guests. He booked us in, wishing to be independent of friends and relatives. The accommodation was not well maintained, but Dilawer liked the golf course - a flat area criss-crossed by small streams - an added hazard. The caddies were happy to retrieve golf balls from the water in return for small tips.  

Tired after golf, Dilawer went quickly to sleep. I was still awake when I heard someone trying the lock on the door. As Dilawer always left our key in the lock, the door remained shut. I woke Dilawer. In Peshawar most men carried guns; Dilawer didn't have one - so carefully draped a towel over his arm to simulate a hidden gun. The intruder departed at high speed with Dilawer hot on his tail. However no shots were fired and the men disappeared.  All was quiet and the manager was absent. The next day we moved back to our friend's house. Nobody at the golf course appeared to take the 'break-in' very seriously. We returned to Karachi and heard no more.  

The following year we went to stay again with our friends in Peshawar and Dilawer played golf. The head caddy asked to see him and explained that he was worried about our security. One of his caddies had come back from a his holiday in Swat - and had a fine tale to tell, a patron from his village, on hearing he was a golf caddy in Peshwar, said: 

 "I was onto a good thing there last year. We were to kidnap the English wife of a guest, and hold her for ransom, which her husband would have to pay."    

Of course the kidnappers would know nothing about the warfarin I took following a heart operation! But this adventure was no threat in the end - but my husband did not take me to Pakistan again. 

We returned again to Karachi to Dilawer's family and this time the adventure was organised by my husband! He was anxious to repay his brother for their hospitality and decided to take the whole family by boat across the estuary to the sandy beach where we would have a BBQ. He included all the women in the family, who rarely get to go on outings, and the children. The level of excitement rose! A large basket of food was packed and on the day we set off in a bus and one or two cars to to the harbour. Two boats had been hired. All the women got off the bus and ran to one of the banks together with the children. The men and older boys went to the other boat - they had no choice as the first boat was chock-a-block. As we set sail from the harbour I found myself thinking seriously if the boat is wrecked who will I rescue first? None of the women and only a few of the children can swim! 

The boatmen took the two boats across the estuary and tied up in the shade of the mangrove swamp. Fishing lines were handed out, but no fish were caught. Not surprising, considering the amount of noise in our boat! The boatman obviously felt that we should catch at least one or two fish, so we stayed a little longer. When we set sail it was immediately apparent that the tide was well on its way out. We got halfway to the sand bank and there both boats were grounded on the mud as the tide left is high but not dry. All the food was in the boat so a transfer system had been erected and a length of rope was rigged up by the young man of the family. Late in the afternoon, the turning tide re-floated the boats. My husband his brother joined the women in our boat and we were able to float off. The other boat was stuck quite firmly and because a good many boats have been attached and robbed in this area, our boat went to arrange a rescue boat to come to the rescue of the stranded young men. We returned home safely and spent the next two or three hours waiting with increasing anxiety for the return of the stranded passengers. Believe it or not - not one complaint was heard. Finally, long after nightfall, the wanderers returned; they had grounded again on the return journey but luckily they were not robbed!

You will note from these examples that is easy to 'Live Adventurously' (with little effort on our part).

Prescilla Khan  - Class of 1953