A weekly podcast about self discovery, literature, lifestyle and mental health coming from York, UK. Join Daniel Roy Connelly and Hugh Bernays’ journeys.
This conversation with Daniel and Hugh was our contribution to #NationalNearMissDay . You can hear the retelling in S1 Ep4 of the Anarchist Monastery Podcast. https://t.co/uShfmpF3ve 12/12
It's the 9th of June 1987 and a 21 year old Daniel turns up for work on his moped at the British Embassy at 9am. there are 50 or 60 Italian police at the entrance with flashing lights. He speaks to the security guard at the gate who says "Un Attacco, Un Attacco!" 1/12
Later that same day, the leaders at the Venice Summit agreed to escalate the fight against terrorism and agreed that from that day forwards, there would be no negotiations with or concessions made to terrorists or hostage takers. 11/12
Daniel’s untold and fascinating story from when he ventured into deepest Bangladesh as British Vice Consul to help two lads gain British Nationality. #fcdo
To claim British nationality. Deal done. Most amazing of all was the feast I was invited to eat - this being all the food the family had prepared for dinner that night. In ate their dinner and I had no chloride I’d been offered it and not to accept would have been an insult …
And a Littlewoods Pool coupon. And, at the bottom, an old, black British Passport belonging to the long dead father of the two brothers who had begged the British government, for years and years, to pay a visit - this visit, happening now - to confirm they were eligible …
Inside, a trove of photos from London in the 1960s, a proud and handsome chap standing outside Buckingham Palace, Wembley Stadium, Piccadilly Circus and a couple of Indian restaurants. There were also empty cans of Brute anti-perspirant, London bus tickets …
I was met by a sea of astonished faces and realized straightaway that I was the only foreigner - and a European at that - that had ever stepped foot in this village. I was shown into a two-room kacha - mud built - hut where a large wooden chest was opened by the village chief …
I took an interpreter and we set sail on a ferry and increasingly smaller boats to a village that was unknown to the high commission, and where we were treated like royalty by the locals who were finally witnessing the visit they’d been asking for for years …
I found an old letter scrunched up in a corner of my office at the British High Commission in Dhaka, asking the Vice Consul to visit a village in Bangladesh where I’d solve a years-long mystery about a British passport …