When I was about 17 years old, I awoke to the real fact of what my father did for a living. Having joined the local architecture school, and with little real interest in design, I at least decided to be a responsible son, and started accompanying him on his site visits when I could. There are something’s that one remembers vividly as images whilst growing up- it’s imprinted in your mind forever. Most vivid amongst them for me, were the days when he would do planting in a project. We would reach the site early at dawn, I riding at the back of his white Lambretta- GJE-371. Sometimes it was a large house, at others, the yard of a factory. Waiting at the site would be many laborers. A large…
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