Once, when I was twelve or thirteen years old, Grandpa took me on a day trip. We travelled to Dorset to see Maiden Castle: a colossal mound of terraced slopes all covered in sheep and grass. I don’t know this for certain — I can’t quite remember — but I bet that Grandpa explained to me that Maiden Castle isn’t actually a castle. It’s an iron age fort. There’s no way he would’ve let that inaccuracy slide.

After Maiden Castle, our day trip continued with a visit to nearby Monkey World. That’s a rescue centre for orangutans, gibbons, and more. Again, I’m sure he explained to me that the name of this place is misleading. With all those apes about, Primate World would be a much more accurate title.

While we walked around, I wonder what other lessons he imparted, what questions he asked me, how he teased me, taught me, inspired me. Ancient history and animals — those were two of Grandpa's biggest interests, and two interests I grew up to share. Iron age forts and orangutans — could you ask for a better day?