David Meirion Hughes, Dave; best of friends. It should be easy to write a tribute to you. Why is it such a hard thing to do? You had every good quality a man could have; intelligence, looks, humour, imagination, creativity, sympathy for others plus some others not strictly needed but useful and enriching on life’s journey; strength, speed, flair, unflagging curiosity about the world, the spin pass, a sure eye across the expanse of green baize, the ability to think in Welsh, an encyclopaedic knowledge of popular music, understanding of the canine mind, the capacity to control a car at what might otherwise be unsafe miles an hour. With all of this you could have been unbearable to those less blessed but you had something still rarer that kept envy in check. You had a genius for friendship that I believe came from your natural generosity of spirit. As far as you were concerned, it was never about you. It was always about the conversation, the meeting of minds, the exchange of ideas and feelings, the flights of fancy up into the absurd. I think it is this sense of your reserve that makes the singing of your praises hard; that and the fact that writing it reminds me I’m saying goodbye. I can’t express how I feel about not seeing you again. For over forty five years of friendship, you kept us all in touch, reminded us of the best in each other, remembered the important dates and kept the flame alive. I know no tribute of mine can approach the original but it’s all I can do and I am sure of one thing; you would understand.

David was simply the most thoughtful, kind and generous friend one could have. From my many walks on the Heath with him I realized he would even pick up worms from the path and throw them into the fields. He genuinely loved nature and saw humour in wonderful places that one hadn't thought of. He was an avid reader and music lover and I just loved being with him and chatting, moving from subject to subject, from architecture to football to music to ideas that I hadn't even thought of. He was unique or as many one of my favourite Americanisms would have it, "very unique". I will miss him immeasurably and think of him very often.

My thoughts are primarily with Jennifer, Izzy and Seth. I don't know if this is what this space is for but, hey, Dave was anything but a stickler for the rules, so here are some of my thoughts. I know that if my old friend were leaving this for me, it would be pithy - perhaps only a single word or phrase. I need to be more verbal. Both migrants to the arse end of North Cumbria over 45 years ago, circumstances pushed us together. He was better-looking, better at sport, a better musician and academically better than I, but I forgave him these flaws and for over 45 years we remained close friends, sharing a love of music, wildlife, art, rugby and drinking. We had holidays together and ate and drank together. Dave's loyalty to our friendship was noteworthy and probably undeserved. He found time, far more than I, to share newly discovered music, thoughts on all sorts of things his enquiring mind discovered. I think he was the glue that's held together our little group of schoolfriends for over 45 years. I have numerous Welsh friends (I know!!) and, in the texts exchanged following an international rugby match, I obviously get plenty of traffic from them... when Wales win. When Wales lose, the texts are generally silent. The sole exception to this was Dave, who would always offer an expert and fair critique on the result and, where appropriate, genuine congratulations. During lockdown, he and I would watch games on TV in our respective homes but together on Skype (Dave's idea). He was generous in everything. He lent me musical instruments, gave me things on a whim, he'd turn up at my door and just hand me a bottle of malt whisky. He'd give you the shirt of his back if you shared his dubious taste in shirts. Funny, witty (not as witty as me, obvs), erudite. His knowledge of so many things and enthusiasm for trying new things was apparently limitless. We had taken to doing the Guardian Saturday quiz each week together with Jim, over WhatsApp and the last message I have from him, on the 18th of October, was to correctly identify Anjeze Gonxhe Bojaxhiu as the real name of Mother Teresa! As I'm sure we all are, I'm finding it difficult to get my head around the poorer place that is the world without David's smiling face. I know he was so proud of Izzy and Seth and all they've achieved and will achieve and they do him credit. I should leave such a legacy. I will try to take something from what was best in my friend and be a little more humble, less argumentative, opinionated and generally arsey. A one-off, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.