So, where do I go from here? I returned home to a vacuum after the Drakensberg break with my mother. I had no career in mind, and neither did I have anyone skilled enough to mentor me. I had visited a factory that manufactured explosives and fertiliser, but that did not appeal to me. 

Suddenly, I had an inspiration. While living in Port Shepstone years before, I passed a pharmacy window and watched a pharmacist busy compounding medicines. I thought that to be a possible career and set off for the local pharmacy school to make enquiries. 

To become a pharmacist, I had to complete a three-year apprenticeship and then do two years of full-time study. Alternatively, I could study part-time, and if all goes well, I need only to study for the final year.

Part-time meant working an eight hour day, lectures three nights a week and on a Thursday afternoon. All that sounded horrific; I didn't have too many other choices.

Within my ignorance, I assumed that I would quickly find somewhere to complete an apprenticeship. I had no sooner registered when Mike, a fellow scholar at school, arrived. Mike was considered to be one of the more competent and capable boys in the top class. He knew me quite well, having spent much of our school career together.

He looked at me stunned, "Whatever are you doing here?" I explained that I had just registered for a career in pharmacy. "Glyn", he stammered, "Pharmacy is quite the wrong career for you!".

Undaunted, I withdrew and made my way to the local bookstore, where I purchased the prescribed textbooks. Upon returning home, my news was met with indifference. I was accustomed to making my own unprecedented decisions, like accepting the headmasters offer to move on.