During the first summer of my university days, I worked in the Butlin’s Holiday Camp, Ayr, Scotland, as an all-night cleaner. We were a team of three, and when the enormous bars closed at midnight, we moved in and turned beer-glass strewn acres into sweet-smelling zones for the next day. I had two bosses, both Scottish. One was the lady who worked with us all night. She was lovely because, on the first two nights, we (two students) were useless, but under her guidance, we became miracle workers.

Then there was her boss, known as Mr Old School, for his super just, fair, but strict approach. In my last week before leaving to hitch around the staggeringly beautiful Western Isles, I overslept. He wanted to see me in his office for the misdemeanour. But he simply thanked me and said you’ve earned enough credits for no consequences on this occasion. But don’t do it again.

For a summer, he (and she) had taught me the timeless Old School Principles.

I owe those two a lot. This one is dedicated to them.