The eccentric: Actually, there was more than one. I worked as a print rep for a large printing company starting when I was a mere 58. It was my first proper job since my erstwhile career in the world of cartoons and illustration; it made a refreshing change from working alone and trying to get on top of the new digital age, without a great deal of success. And it was regular money and paid holidays- what’s not to like?

My remit at the company was to sell print, simple. I knew a bit about print but was about to learn a good bit more.

I was charged with getting a new brand at the company to be a little more visible and to persuade the man in the street that we could compete with the ‘quick print’ companies that were then opening up on the high street like Kall Kwik. These have subsequently evaporated from the high street to the internet. We called this likely brand ‘Sprinters’, not my idea but I thought a good one. Though sprinting is something that is entirely foreign to me. I had a bright yellow van to pootle about the environs of Gloucester with ‘Let sprinters print it” writ large over the side. Visibility not a problem. It worked, to a degree, though when push came to shove in the factory, my little print job had less of the urgency than the larger works. So there were times when sprinting became more of a gentle stroll towards a deadline and managing expectations became my speciality.

On the plus side, I met a lot of people, some great people to work with in the company, and a load of clients, amongst them a scattering of eccentrics. On top of that eccentric list was the man with a pond in the shape of a map of Peru.

South of Gloucester the old A38 had a fair scattering of my clientele, like the Greek couple operating a haulage company out of a portacabin, and the bad tempered bloke who taught people how to drive articulated trucks ( wouldn’t like to be in front of him on a road ) and the company who grew all sorts of lovely plants from their nursery which started by importing them from behind the Berlin Wall. None of the above was eccentric quite in the way of the man at the end of my range on the A38, who lived in what was once a red brick cottage hospital, alone.

It started with a call to me asking if we did Christmas cards and ‘could someone come and see me to talk about’. He gave me directions and said I couldn’t miss it. Right there. For a hospital, it was small; for a bloke on his own, it was huge. At the time he was restoring it. He was pleasant and welcoming, apologising for the bit of a mess as I enthused about what a splendid building it was with its lovely balconies, red brickwork, huge doors and a clock tower that could be seen from some miles away. The mess was the detritus of builders’ restoration works.

We went through the exacting brief of how he wanted his Christmas card, and we proofed and printed it. Not without a little grumble from my sales manager who thought it rather a long trip for a small job. “Sprat to catch a mackerel”, said I, not very confidently, expecting not a lot more from the Eccentric, who called himself an eccentric. “You know, Paul,” he intoned in his slightly Brummie accent” an eccentric really means a free spirit, and that’s how I consider myself”

He told me also that he intended to restore his house to its former glory, and he did. I’m not sure of the time frame now but I got more work from him, bits and pieces, and each time he insisted that I visit, and each time the place looked better and better. He gave no clue to the source of his wealth, or his past; always polite and friendly. A joy to deal with in many ways, but very clear how he wanted his job printed. I suspected that he’d been in property or building but was never sure.

Out of the blue, after a period of silence, he called me and said he was going into Antiques and that I should come down to discuss a ‘brochure’ he wanted to print. When I got there, the place was immaculate and filled with antique furniture and household artefacts of the highest quality. It looked like a film set. The transformation was complete. He’d hired a photographer and a designer and was ready to print a complete book of the antiques. The mackerel was reeled in.

The job went well,

Quite a few months went by and he called be again. He told me that he was starting another project and that I should come down and see him.

When I got there, almost all the antiques were gone, and the driveway that had been lovingly gravelled with that kind of surface that will hold the gravel in place on a steep driveway was torn about with a large digger as if there had been a huge drainage problem. It looked like it had been vandalised.

He answered the huge door with a pleasant welcome, and I asked what the problem was. Waving his hand at it, he simply said he was building a pond in the garden in the shape of a map of Peru. I must have looked a little surprised and muttered, ‘Why Peru?’ And he answered, “I like Peru”. This effectively closed that conversation.

“What happened to the antiques?” I asked.

“All gone, got fed up with that, I’ve been in Africa and want to build a copy of this house beside a lake out there, wonderful people, and I’m the lead singer in an Afro band. So I’m starting a record label. We need a logo, can you do that? A bit like the Decca record label, that sort of thing. I’m now a Masai Chief, bet you didn’t expect that did you?

It was a lot to take in.

The simple matter of the logo seemed within our grasp and I left to get back to the factory to brief the studio on what he wanted.

We did what we thought he wanted, but he didn’t care for it. Lost patience with me, told me I should fire people at the office ( as if I could ), shut the huge door on me, and that was that.

I genuinely liked the man, he was eccentric in every meaning of the word. I hope his dreams came true. I wonder how the pond is doing.

I heard that he became a Masai Chief, and there were unfortunate forays into red-top newspapers at the time. I wonder if he built his replica house in East Africa, or if he is still making ponds like Peru.

One thing is certain, I was glad to work with him and to have experienced his eccentric free spirit.