Extract from ´Boy´ by Roald Dahl

In September 1925, when I was just nine, I set off on the first 
great adventure of my life – boarding school. My mother had 
chosen for me a school in a part of England very near to our 
home in South Wales, and it was called St Peter´s. The full 
address was St Peter´s School, Weston-super-Mare, Somerset.

Weston-super-Mare is a slightly seedy seaside resort with a vast 
sandy beach, a fantastic long pier, a wide path running along 
the sea-front, a collection of hotels, and about ten thousand 
little shops selling buckets and spades and sticks of rock and ice-
creams. It lies directly across the sea from Cardiff, and on a clear 
day you can see the coast of Wales lying pale and milky on the 
horizon.

In those days, the easiest way to travel from Cardiff to Weston-super-Mare 
was by boat. These boats were beautiful. Therefore, on the first day of my 
first term I set out by taxi with my mother to catch the boat. Every piece of 
clothing I wore was brand new. I wore black shoes, grey woollen stockings, 
grey shorts, a grey shirt, a red tie, a grey blazer and a grey school cap. Into 
the taxi that was taking us to the docks went my brand new trunk and my 
brand new tuck-box, and both of them had R.Dahl painted on them in 
black. I felt excited by my new adventure.

A tuck-box is a small wooden trunk which is very strongly made, and no 
boy has ever gone to board at a school without one. It is a secret hiding 
place and there is an unwritten law that no other boy, teacher or even the 
headmaster himself has the right to look in your tuck-box and for this 
reason, it is always kept locked. A tuck-box is where you store your secret 
and favourite possessions. My mother had filled my box with chocolate, 
jam, sweets and biscuits. However, as well as tuck, a tuck box would also 
contain all sorts of strange treasures such as a compass, a small racing car, 
lead soldiers, some foreign stamps and some stink bombs.

So, off we set in the boat across the sea. I liked that part of the journey. I 
felt excited about travelling on the swooshing sea. However, soon I began 
to grow anxious and apprehensive as we got off the boat at Weston-super-
Mare. I didn’t know what to expect. I had never spent a night away from 
home before.

The school was on a hill above the town. It was a long three-storeyed stone 
building that looked rather like a lunatic hospital. The driveway was full of 
parents and children, and the headmaster was swimming around shaking 
everybody’s hand. He was a giant. He shook me by the hand and flashed me 
the kind of grin a shark might give to a small fish just before he eats it. My 
mother left and I began to cry.