Outside a visit to the dentist, there are few things in life as unappealing as a school reunion. That’s particularly the case when it marks an anniversary with a big number attached. In our case, 30 years.
On the face of it, it’s a micro-disaster in the making. The plan is to take a hundred or so men and women – many of whom are deep in the grip, knowingly or otherwise, of a mid-life crisis – wrench them away from their daily lives and transport them back to the boarding school where they were all teenagers together. You then throw in a free bar and disco – and let them get on with it.
It sounds like the pretext of a particularly cringey Channel 5 reality show, one in which Davina McCall emotes sympathetically alongside a therapist, who’s on hand to help pick up the pieces once bourgeois lives have been shattered.
You realised what you got was a snapshot shorn of all the horrid bits – the unrequited loves, the divorces
Before my own big day arrived, spirits among my cohort of Old Ardinians were running high.
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