Two things stick in my memory, after all this time. First of all doing community service at the Coastguard Station at Hengistbury Head, Bournemouth. A friend and I would catch a bus together early on a Saturday morning, from Salisbury bus station, then spend the day in the company of one very enthusiastic Mr Tucker, who taught us everything from recognising distress signals, to morse code, first aid and much more besides. I still use the phonetic alphabet when spelling aloud. Our afternoons were generally spent observing the great British public at play on the beach below, through powerful binoculars - hugely entraining in its own right - with the alleged aim of anticipating possible problems before they occurred.

Secondly - the expedition. Trailing through a misty, damp and freezing cold New Forest for three days and two nights in November. I had never been so cold. We slept in the all the clothing we had with us. Neither have sausage and beans ever tasted so good, cooked on a camping stove. We gave up any attempt at trying to get clean - there was mud everywhere. We took turns to fill in a log book by torch light - part fact, part feelings, part fantasy and part planning our futures - which made a very fine snap shot of collective teenage hopes and fears in the early 1980s. I'm so glad I had that opportunity to take part. Thank you, Prince Philip.