The book that changed everything...

Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee

'The day was over and we had used it, running errands or prowling the fields. When evening came we returned to the kitchen, back to its smoky comfort, in from the rapidly cooling air, to its wrappings of warmth and comfort.'

This novel, if you don't know it, recollects the author's boyhood and coming of age set against the backdrop of the Cotswold valleys and was first published way back in 1959.

I came upon it through necessity rather than choice - it was part of the National Curriculum - and at 12, my love affair began. Now, I read it annually, browse its well worn pages frequently and savour every perfect word.

For me, it is so much more than just a book. Not only is it a condensed history and, sometimes harsh, record of country life with all its characters and tradition but it is written in such rich prose with evocative description and sensuous language that it can take you there. Back to a time where life was uncomplicated, guided by the valleys' landscape, seasons and most importantly, its community.

Its legacy draws me to Slad (Laurie Lee's village within the Stroud valleys) regularly and to The Woolpack, his local pub and still the hub of the village.

Naturally, my one true regret is not meeting the man. My idol. I know several who have had the pleasure and I know that he could be a difficult, somewhat enigmatic character but I know too that he was warm and charming and that if I had turned up in the bar of The Woolpack and bought him a pint, I am sure that we would have had a good chat, whether about the rising price of ale or the local cricket score. It really wouldn't have mattered. Just one conversation would have been enough.

Sometimes, I see his widow, Kathy, in the pub. She retains all the beauty of her youth and has a sparkle in her eyes and allure which has not diminished with age. 

And it is there, where I can look out over the valley and still dream about walking in to find Laurie sitting on his regular stool in the corner, bemoaning the state of the economy, muttering into his Uley beer and he is there, with me...