Jan Guzik was my German pen-friend and exchange partner for our third-form trip to Schessel in Northern Germany. We went to Schessel in the spring; they came to Sheffield in the summer.

Ten Wisewood students travelled on the overnight ferry from Harwich to Bremerhaven. We had no cabins, so slept in the cafeteria where British soldiers going to serve in Cologne played Without You endlessly on the jukebox. Ian was already snuggling up to my dream girl, so I smouldered with jealousy, and, meanwhile, practised my German on the server at the food counter who got annoyed because I didn't want to buy anything. In the end I ordered ein Frankfurter which didn't really stretch the limits of my German, but I was thwarted even in this because they'd run out of rolls and could only supply der Frankfurter between sliced bread. I of course didn't understand this explanation so we finished up talking in English. All in all, as a way to learn German, the trip was singularly unsuccessful. Jan spoke to me in English and his parents spoke to each other in Polish. My German has diminished to a few random phrases like "Haben Sie etwas zu verzollen?"(*) which is not too useful in conversation. However, it is better than my French at the time I visited Rennes in 1983, where I was more or less limited to "Quand est-ce que le piscine est ouvert?"(**)

Jan was one of a large family who lived in a large modern house. One of their sources of income was a family activity: they made belts for vacuum cleaners. You take a length of rubber, put glue on the ends, then press together. There's a satisfying little sensation - a kind of noiseless chunk - when you do it right. Just the sort of thing to do while watching the television. I made several hundred.

Jan was tall, dark and handsome so he soon paired off with a classmate of mine, but none of us were jealous about that because back home she was going out with a 20-year-old.

At a party one night I sat in lonely misery as life and love throbbed noisily around me. Perhaps the mood was caused by substances added to my Coke, because the next morning I felt terrible. Other people were affected too. At one point Ian doubled up and said "Aarg, I've got guts ache!". Jan turned and said, "Yes?" (***)
 

(*) Have you anything to declare?
(**) When does the swimming pool open?
(***) I wouldn't dare recount this unintended pun if it hadn't really happened exactly as I have described. If you're still perplexed, note Jan's surname.