By Rohan Scott
Leave thy home, O youth, and seek out alien shores…
Yield not to misfortune: the far-off Danube shall know thee,
The cold North-wind and the untroubled kingdom of
Canopus and the men who gaze on the new birth of Phoebus or upon his setting…
Poem by Petronius found in the flyleaf of A Time of Gifts
A slip of the mouse threw me into my spam inbox: Freeprints, eBay, that arena of smugness and comparison — LinkedIn. Scanning the rows of advertising and unemployment shaming, I catch sight of an email from a blog, titled Patrick Leigh Fermor. Without hesitation I click on the page, a site I had not visited in well over five years, to reconnect with the legacy of ‘Paddy’.
I was introduced to the writings of Patrick Leigh Fermor — ‘Paddy’ — by an English teacher at the wide-eyed age of thirteen. Tasked with penning a travel piece in the style of Paddy, I became captivated by his words and then his story. I proceeded to consume A Time of Gifts, Between the Woods and the Water, and The Broken Road (posthumously edited and published from an incomplete manuscript). These three volumes detail a story of wonder and whimsy woven into Paddy’s endeavours from the Hook of Holland to Constantinople in 1933/4. With the lexical field to match a dictionary, Paddy lucidly frames scenes, experiences, and conversations that transport the reader back to the lost world of interwar Europe. Whether in a schloss in Bavaria or a shepherds hut in the Carpathians, Paddy carried himself with confidence, charm and naivety in equal parts.
This hobnail journey became a blueprint for me; one that inspired a love of adventure, walking, art — culture, if you will. An even more thought-provoking element that stamped his travels were the unexpected misfortunes, unlikely friendships and even unforeseen romances. Paddy’s ability to embrace the unknown and to navigate change seemed unparalleled; this is perhaps why he made such an excellent SOE operative during the Second World War. It was this flexibility and pragmatic attitude towards life and adventure that served as my greatest lesson from a young Paddy.
Now at twenty-two, I find myself at a crossroads, not too dissimilar to the one that an eighteen-year-old Paddy faced before setting off for Holland. Whilst I might not have been expelled from school, setting out into the world with a history degree feels as though our ‘career’ prospects are not too dissimilar.
Paddy toyed with the idea of a Sandhurst commission before opting to become an author in London. When the burden of financial stability caught up with the struggling writer, Paddy set off on his trans-European odyssey. It certainly is a privilege to be able to cast down ‘responsibility’ and set off on an amble through Europe. Considering that Paddy was a destitute writer, it is worth noting that he was a beneficiary of some much-needed pocket money from his mother. Nevertheless, with a fistful of youth, Paddy made do with little in order to follow his desire to learn, to travel, to create.
This crossroads of life that Paddy faced resonates deeply with me. A keen desire to enter a creative field, an even keener desire to wander the planet, and the stark realpolitik of our capitalist world. I have been toying with many ideas, including the desk-borne rat race and postgraduate prolonging. Now, reminded by my affinity for Paddy and his tales, I know that despite what LinkedIn might tell you, adventure is not found staring down the barrel of an Excel spreadsheet.
This is not an envy-ridden dismissal of those who have secured employment, neither is it an affront to those oh-so-important jobs in finance. What I hope to convey is a lesson that Paddy gifted through his works. Our youth is precious and direction and stability are fickle. The only certainty lies in change. So for those at a crossroads of life — lacking direction and stability — adventure is the antidote. I am not under the impression that money grows on trees, but therein lies the beauty of walking. Once a pair of hobnails are secured, the mode is free in every sense of the word. Paddy set out for Europe with no more than a pound in his pocket, a set of army surplus rags, a notebook, The Oxford Book of English Verse and the first volume of Loeb’s Horace. Despite this humble set of worldly possessions, Paddy embarked on the adventure of a lifetime. He wandered Holland, Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria and then Turkey. His adventure of 1933/4 never really ended; a stint in Constantinople took him to Mount Athos in Greece, followed by a return to Romania that carried him to the outbreak of the Second World War.
Paddy had a zeal for adventure, a passion for life and a love for people. Through adventure, he managed to forge a successful ‘career’. As a soldier in Crete, his most noted exploit came in 1944 with the abduction of Nazi General Kreipe. As a writer, he found stability through early works Mani — Travels in the Southern Peloponnese and Roumeli. His celebrated success came from A Time of Gifts, written and published some forty-three years after completing his wander through Europe. Paddy’s adventure continued until he died in 2014, at the age of ninety-six. Having been reminded of the life that Paddy led, I hope to somewhat emulate him, at least for some time before the trench whistle blows and I become shackled to a desk.
If you too, feel at a crossroads in life, I suggest you pick up a copy of A Time of Gifts and find your next adventure.
Image Credit: patrickleighfermor.org
