So I decided to write a blog. It’s taken me a long time to get round to it. But I’ve just come back from a week’s holiday with a fairly fresh mind so now seems a good moment.
So who am I and why should anybody be interested in what I have to say? Well, I won’t try and answer the latter question. But the former’s reasonably easy.
I write under the name of Besonian simply because it appeals to me. Where does the word come from? I stumbled across it many years ago in a play by Shakespeare, but I believe also that it means in Italian, of which I know virtually nothing, a rogue, rascal etc. I don’t claim to be either of those things, though I may have had my moments as either or both way back in history.
I spent my working life first in advertising in the UK producing TV commercials, then subsequently in the film industry as a writer and director. I directed both TV and cinema commercials, and wrote and directed a great many dramatized industrial documentaries along with public service films for TV. One of the latter (which I directed but did not write) has a faithful following on You Tube. It’s called ‘Dark and Lonely Water’ and seems even now, so many years later, still to be generating a lot of interest. Very gratifying. That’s what it’s about – connecting.
I left the film industry some years ago to do what I’d always, since the age of about 16, wanted to do – write a novel. Yes, I know – the whole world writes novels these days – it’s a full field. But you do what you have to do and I have to do that. I’ve written one and am two-thirds the way through a second.
That’s me. So back to this recent holiday. My woman and I share a camper van. It’s a VW in glorious maroon and named ‘Ruby’. Its seats convert at night to two single beds. There’s room in its raised roof for another slim, athletic – and preferably not very tall – person to sleep. It has a fridge, three-ring gas-cooker with oven and grill. It has a sink and small draining board. It has cupboards for food, bird-books (I’ll come to that eventually), maps etc. It even has a small loo, hidden away in the day under a unit. It has huge storage space under the seats for all sorts of other things like shoes, walking boots, bottles of gin, tonic and wine.
We spent eight days at a campsite called Crossways, run by the Caravan Club (never thought I’d belong to anything like that) in Dorset – a county in the south-west of the UK. The site is 35 acres of beautiful woodland, lawns, paths among which you park your camper van or your caravan and hook it up to the mains electricity points which are at every parking place. The weather, apart from the first couple of days when it was grey, was brilliantly sunny. You wake in the morning to the sound of nothing but – and I mean it – the birds singing in the trees all around you. And if you’ve never done that, then you ought to. It puts you in touch with something else.
OK, that I think, will do for now. More on Dorset, gin and tonic, bird-books and Scottish Ospreys anon. I’m still trying to re-adapt to London.