Nigel was somewhat of a trail blazer for me – and that is how I will always remember him. Two years older and hence that much more open to the “summer of love” and the churnings of 1968 - Nige always seemed to be opening doors – from Neil Young and Jackson Browne to Carlos Castenada and Philip Larkin, from fine Suffolk ale (and later ciders of course) to pure yoghurt and various herbs. I really admired the way he seemed to thrust himself so wholeheartedly into School and later College life – sport, ideas, friendships and, for sure, social life. He drank deeply from the well of life. My deep lasting friendship with his brother Mark was always warmly encouraged – even to the extent of enabling us to spend a happy week together odd-jobbing on the Peake apple farms. I am so grateful for that. He always widened horizons maybe referencing Japanese fiction or Chinese proverbs. He set the pace on social occasions, pushing you to extract just that much more from each occasion, doing his level best to ensure all were engaged. His loyalty was another boon. He once turned up at my Oxford room in the early hours of the morning, having somehow got wind of a ‘bit of a crisis’ I was having in my first term, and spent several hours talking, listening to Dylan (Blood on the Tracks), yes drinking, so that I finally fell asleep, and awoke – well, to another day…. Strange it is how friends made in the heady days of one’s life, stick. Yes, we all go through squalls and storms, and it is gratifying that we can be around to help one another in however small ways. It was good to spend time with Nigel just before Christmas in his ‘den’, surrounded by his best music, his most-cherished novels and his best-beloved poetry, fingering through photographs of his many memorable travels….that is how I will remember him.