After my mum died we had a series of Warwick University students, mainly from the Classics department set up by my Dad, come to look after us as babysittters. There was one of my heroes in jounalism, the great Neil Masuda who got his break onto Fleet Street by scooping a sex scandal involving the pop star Howard Jones who, until then, was thought to be rather a wholesome fellow. Classy. I am still in touch with Neil who was one of the 30 folks able to attend the funeral of my father during covid. If only we had been shooting grouse we could have had more. Thanks Boris Johnson you total arsehole.
The only other former babysitter with whom I am still in touch is Debbie who also accompanied Dad to Greece assisting him on his work on the nomadic Vlach tribe, who I have mentioned more than once as I travelled up to Anelion in Northern Greeece a few years ago in search of Mike the Vlach, the oldest friend in these parts of my father. Anyhow, Debbie has sent over her recording of a Vlach poem she learned while travelling with my father and also an English translation. Though it is rather sad I hope you enjoy it.
Recording #1
Recording #2