A Hundred and Fifty Two posts and…
…I’m going to have a few days off.
Partly to finish the update of a book I wrote years ago called Making Poldark—and partly to have a few days off!
Back in 1978 I was commissioned by Bossiney Books (a small publisher in Cornwall) to write an account of the filming of the two series. I updated it in 1987 and it had a life with the issue of the videos and the DVDs (only recently released in the United States).
Acorn Media are issuing a box set of both series in the USA soon and are including, as a special “extra”, the first chapter of my original memoir. That inspired me to begin work on a further update.
Here’s a “sneak preview” of the draft of the new chapter:
Making Poldark—PART 3
Twenty five years on and I’m living in a Presbytère—(priest’s house– the last priest moved out 90 years ago)—deep in the countryside of SW France with an American wife, Meredith, six cats and a hen.
I shop in the local markets and cook for the two of us twice a day. I’ve written a cookbook for Type Two diabetics and blog most days about that, cooking and the life here.
What happened to the actor who for years feared the day he discovered he didn’t need to act anymore?
What happened to the townie who found the countryside beautiful–but dull–and couldn’t wait to get back to the city on a Sunday night?
Well—“life moves on” is the easy answer, but that won’t do.
When we reissued Making Poldark in the late 80s, Meredith and I were living in a Victorian house in north London, not far from where I grew up around Hampstead.
London is blessed with large parks and Hampstead Heath was a brisk walk away—you can lose yourself in the woods there and make believe you are in the countryside and still be a 15 minute walk from the local movie house.
I had never thought of owning a second home in the sticks—let alone in France. (I knew Italy better and went to Florence regularly—I love the Italian kitchen.)
It was a shock then to hear myself asking the friends of Hughes Rudd—Meredith’s colleague and friend from ABC News in New York, who had retired down here–if they knew of anyone selling a house.
More shocking still—having visited the house Hughes’ friends came up with—to find myself offering the owner the asking price five hours later! Not exactly businesslike, but the truth was I’d fallen in love (coup de foudre)—again.
Meredith, coup de foudre no. 1 (lightning strike) in 1986, and I were getting married in the summer and though she thought the house was a gem—she must have been asking herself : “Do I need this and a wedding to see to?”
We were married at the Rosslyn Hill Chapel in Hampstead in August and had our reception at the London Zoo.
We honeymooned at the empty house in the Tarn—empty apart from a couple of large beds a friend had made and some cardboard furniture.
The year was 1990.
To be continued…!
Thanks everyone for your continuing support–I am getting a big kick from doing it–and from reading your comments.
A trés bientôt…