A midst the fun of blasting holes into brick walls (see previous posts) and being driven around Caracas in an enormous white Cadillac convertible with orange leather seats by the handsome millionaire Tommy, Venezuela had its risks. Tommy was a graduate of Harvard. His father was a concentration camp survivor who made his millions from the textile industry in Venezuela. Tommy was primarily a playboy who occasionally worked. It was Tommy who introduced them to the music of Deodato, Vytas Brenner and Santana. He would often arrive at 11 at night to take the boys to the Choroni a scenic fishing village on the Atlantic. It is now overrun with tourists, but at the time was for locals only as the unpaved road across the mountains was fraught with danger. There were frequent near misses and cars and buses often plunged over the edge. It was also a place of beauty. Jeremy recalls vividly the time they came across thousands of migratory butterflies. There were so many that they could not be avoided by the car.
The primary task Tommy gave the boys on these journeys was to pick seeds and stems from bags of marijuana and roll joints for him. It was South America in the 70's - the drug culture was strong. Brigitte and Ken became increasingly worried that their sons who were now in their early teens might get swept up into it so a decision was made to send them away. Peter would return to Germany and begin an apprenticeship ; Werner and Jeremy would go to boarding school in England.
What school though? Brochures were poured over until it was finally decided that Sussex Tutors in Brighton England, a cram school aimed at ensuring university entrance, was suitable. It was situated on the ocean, had lovely facilities including a yacht club, tennis courts and swimming pool, and the boys could earn their A and O levels. On the designated day the boys who were then 12 and 14 were driven to the airport, put on a plane and given instructions, "When you land in England, go find your school." It never occurred to anyone that this was somewhat irregular. It was just how things were done in the Brooks household. You were expected to cope and survive. In London, they found the connecting train to Brighton and took a taxi cab to the school.
Both boys have very fond memories of Sussex Tutors, but not for any of the reasons their parents had hoped. The school did indeed front the ocean at 55 Marine Parade. It was an enormous home that had a pleasant well-worn Persian carpet and polished wood feel.
The first surprise were the facilities. It turned out that while those lovely facilities did indeed exist in Brighton, they didn't actually belong to the school. They were private facilities that required membership fees and those under 18 were not allowed.
The second surprise was the owner of the school who referred to herself as Lady Victoria Gibbs. She dressed in gowns and carried a silver flask of port wherever she went. Lady Gibbs' primary role was dinner time inspection. Students were summoned to the dining hall - boys in one line, girls in the other. Lady Gibbs would then lead them into dinner muttering something about girls being riffraff sparrows and guttersnipes.
Mr Ardagh was the headmaster. Martin Amis, Sussex Tutors' most famous alumnus makes reference to him in a letter home.
Mr Ardagh was a stout man with squinty eyes, a large red nose, and tweed jackets who seemed on the verge of exploding at any given moment. Ken, Jeremy's father, had read the man well from his picture in the brochure. The boys arrived with two bottles of Cacique - highly valued Venezuelan rum - which he promptly tucked into his desk drawer. They were warmly welcomed into the Sussex Tutors fold.
Classes were held at Sussex Tutors, but the boys boarded around the corner at The Primrose Inn run by Mrs. Mazakowski. She and her husband had been members of the Polish Underground Resistance during the occupation of WWII. Mysterious comings and goings went on throughout the year they were there and the boys suspect she continued to be politically active against the communist government that had taken over Poland after the war.
The third and most delightful surprise at Sussex Tudors were the students - a mishmash of global teens who found themselves thrown together. None of them could quite believe their good fortune in landing at what Amis referred to as his "last chance saloon". It was commonly recognized that the ex-pat parents had fallen for the glossy brochure and the students were thrilled to find themselves in such highly unsupervised conditions at the height of their risk-taking years. What luck to find that the boy from Persia had his own chauffeur driven vehicle into which they could pile on weekends and head to Devil's Dyke away from the not very watchful eyes of adults.
And of the course, there were the riots. Quadrophenia was released that year which sparked a reprise of riots between the Mods and Rockers. On bank holidays Rockers arrived by train while mods rode in on mopeds. Windows along the route from the station were boarded up and dozens of police on horseback herded these fine young men toward the beach where battles ensued. Jeremy and Werner would purchase fish and chips and watch from the pier along with the German and Dutch tourists until it was time to head back to school for their Italian Poetry class with Mr Vessey.
Mr. Vessey was a classically trained teacher with a passion for Spanish and Italian poetry and a builder of spinets. He was a gentleman - kind and learned. He was also a director of Oxfam and long after leaving Sussex Tudors they would catch glimpses of him on television. His classroom sat at the top of the building with a spectacular view of the ocean. Jeremy and Werner were the only students in the class as they were privately tutored. That year they learned a great deal about spinets.
Riots were not the only drama that took place during the year at Sussex Tutors. The Athina B ran aground in viewing distance of the school.
At the International Airshow one of the Red Arrow Hawks clipped the mast of a boat and crashed into the pier. And of course, there was the bet. Jeremy earned a large sum of money by not changing his shirt for one month. The saxophone tale is still recounted with delight. Across from The Primrose Inn were apartments and in one of those apartments lived a saxophonist who practised loudly and often. One day an argument erupted. The saxophone flew from a window followed by a large trunk both of which landed on the Mini parked below.
Over the course of the year, the boys gained many non-school related skills including snooker, played in the halls of St. James St. in places such as The Castle Snooker Club and Regency Leisure. This didn't prevent them from distinguishing themselves during exams, however, before being summoned home. Much to their disappointment, Ken had found a position in Connecticut and it was safe for them to return. They would be enrolled in Hopkins Grammar School and have to adjust yet again to a new country with its own set of customs and ways of being.
The primary task Tommy gave the boys on these journeys was to pick seeds and stems from bags of marijuana and roll joints for him. It was South America in the 70's - the drug culture was strong. Brigitte and Ken became increasingly worried that their sons who were now in their early teens might get swept up into it so a decision was made to send them away. Peter would return to Germany and begin an apprenticeship ; Werner and Jeremy would go to boarding school in England.
What school though? Brochures were poured over until it was finally decided that Sussex Tutors in Brighton England, a cram school aimed at ensuring university entrance, was suitable. It was situated on the ocean, had lovely facilities including a yacht club, tennis courts and swimming pool, and the boys could earn their A and O levels. On the designated day the boys who were then 12 and 14 were driven to the airport, put on a plane and given instructions, "When you land in England, go find your school." It never occurred to anyone that this was somewhat irregular. It was just how things were done in the Brooks household. You were expected to cope and survive. In London, they found the connecting train to Brighton and took a taxi cab to the school.
Both boys have very fond memories of Sussex Tutors, but not for any of the reasons their parents had hoped. The school did indeed front the ocean at 55 Marine Parade. It was an enormous home that had a pleasant well-worn Persian carpet and polished wood feel.
The first surprise were the facilities. It turned out that while those lovely facilities did indeed exist in Brighton, they didn't actually belong to the school. They were private facilities that required membership fees and those under 18 were not allowed.
The second surprise was the owner of the school who referred to herself as Lady Victoria Gibbs. She dressed in gowns and carried a silver flask of port wherever she went. Lady Gibbs' primary role was dinner time inspection. Students were summoned to the dining hall - boys in one line, girls in the other. Lady Gibbs would then lead them into dinner muttering something about girls being riffraff sparrows and guttersnipes.
Mr Ardagh was the headmaster. Martin Amis, Sussex Tutors' most famous alumnus makes reference to him in a letter home.
Letter from School
Sussex Tutors,
55 Marine Parade,
Brighton, Sussex.
23rd Oct. [1967]
55 Marine Parade,
Brighton, Sussex.
23rd Oct. [1967]
Dearest Dad and Jane,
Thanks awfully for your letter. So we all appear to be working like f****** fools. I seem to be flitting manically from brash self-confidence to whimpering depression; the English is all very fine, but the Latin I find difficult, tedious, and elaborately unrewarding. It would be so boring if it buggered up my Oxford Entrance paper. I spend about 2-3 hours per day on it, but I feel a painful lack of basic knowledge — not being one of those little sods who has been chanting `amo, amas, amat', from the age of eighteen months. Anyway, the set book (Aeneid Bk. II) is pretty splendid, and if I slog through that with sufficient rigour I should be O.K. on that part of the `O' level paper.
Mr Ardagh decided that the best plan for Ox. Ent. is to choose about 6 chaps and know them pretty thoroughly, rather than farting about with a bit of everyone. I have chosen: Shakespeare; Donne and Marvell, Coleridge and Keats; Jane Austen; [Wilfred] Owen; Greene; and possibly old Yeats as well. I do enjoy the English but I must say that I get periods of desperately wanting something else to occupy myself with.
P.S. Convey my cordial regards to Karen — there are no doleful regrets there because, as far as I can remember, she should be about 9' 6" tall by now.
**********************
Mr Ardagh was a stout man with squinty eyes, a large red nose, and tweed jackets who seemed on the verge of exploding at any given moment. Ken, Jeremy's father, had read the man well from his picture in the brochure. The boys arrived with two bottles of Cacique - highly valued Venezuelan rum - which he promptly tucked into his desk drawer. They were warmly welcomed into the Sussex Tutors fold.
Classes were held at Sussex Tutors, but the boys boarded around the corner at The Primrose Inn run by Mrs. Mazakowski. She and her husband had been members of the Polish Underground Resistance during the occupation of WWII. Mysterious comings and goings went on throughout the year they were there and the boys suspect she continued to be politically active against the communist government that had taken over Poland after the war.
The third and most delightful surprise at Sussex Tudors were the students - a mishmash of global teens who found themselves thrown together. None of them could quite believe their good fortune in landing at what Amis referred to as his "last chance saloon". It was commonly recognized that the ex-pat parents had fallen for the glossy brochure and the students were thrilled to find themselves in such highly unsupervised conditions at the height of their risk-taking years. What luck to find that the boy from Persia had his own chauffeur driven vehicle into which they could pile on weekends and head to Devil's Dyke away from the not very watchful eyes of adults.
And of the course, there were the riots. Quadrophenia was released that year which sparked a reprise of riots between the Mods and Rockers. On bank holidays Rockers arrived by train while mods rode in on mopeds. Windows along the route from the station were boarded up and dozens of police on horseback herded these fine young men toward the beach where battles ensued. Jeremy and Werner would purchase fish and chips and watch from the pier along with the German and Dutch tourists until it was time to head back to school for their Italian Poetry class with Mr Vessey.
Mr. Vessey was a classically trained teacher with a passion for Spanish and Italian poetry and a builder of spinets. He was a gentleman - kind and learned. He was also a director of Oxfam and long after leaving Sussex Tudors they would catch glimpses of him on television. His classroom sat at the top of the building with a spectacular view of the ocean. Jeremy and Werner were the only students in the class as they were privately tutored. That year they learned a great deal about spinets.
Riots were not the only drama that took place during the year at Sussex Tutors. The Athina B ran aground in viewing distance of the school.
Over the course of the year, the boys gained many non-school related skills including snooker, played in the halls of St. James St. in places such as The Castle Snooker Club and Regency Leisure. This didn't prevent them from distinguishing themselves during exams, however, before being summoned home. Much to their disappointment, Ken had found a position in Connecticut and it was safe for them to return. They would be enrolled in Hopkins Grammar School and have to adjust yet again to a new country with its own set of customs and ways of being.
