8 February 1982

Mon Feb VIII

1st full day at school. (Sw, Va, Gs, Kz, Bc). Bn cancelled – Mr B caught in Traffic Jam. Went Swimming.

Trains = 32

So, to translate, that was a full day of English, Maths, German, Social Studies and Science. The school day began at 8am and ran until something like 2.30pm, with five periods of an hour each and the usual lunch and morning breaks. Or at least that is how I remember it.

German was taught by Mr Gibbs (Gs), almost always known to we boys as ‘WOH’ after his first three names. His first name was Warwick, so it amused him to have a pupil who came from Warwickshire. Unfortunately for him, German turned out to be my worst subject. I am sure that it wasn’t his fault, my understanding of the language was already fatally crippled, even by that point.

The reference to Bn – Mr Bean – meant that cricket practice was cancelled. Which was a shame, as I needed it then as much as I do now.

About Richard

Just your less-than-average married father of one
This entry was posted in 1982 Diary, New Zealand, School, Sport, Teachers and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to 8 February 1982

  1. R. Pantril says:

    I’ve discovered your interesting blog through chance Googling; it’s very entertaining. I was your exact contemporary at MAGS, and must have been in Gibbs’ German class with you, although I have no memory of you as a person. I barely remember anyone from school: not being sporty, I found it wasn’t a welcoming place.

    • Richard says:

      Hi there,

      I confess that I have no memory of you, either, although I pretty much only had time to get to know the people I was in 4Bc with (and I can’t now identify half of them on the one photograph that I have). I was somewhat surprised to discover recently that Warwick Gibbs is still alive, teaching and on Facebook!

      Thanks very much for your kind comments, I’m glad that you enjoyed the site.


  2. Joanne randle nee easterlow says:

    Loved your blog, as an ex croft hall girl of the 80’s you took me right back to the good old days. I will never forget old Mr. Thackeray trawling the halls in his black masters robe shouting William at the top of his voice cos he could never remember names. The ruler coming out to measure the length of our skirts and being made to scrub the make up off our faces while he waited outside the girls toilet door ranting about the rules. Oh the stories I could tell.

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