old love never dies

I came across the word "autodidact" today which immediately made me remember my first English handbook. I found it on my Dad's bookshelf; the title read "Język angielski dla samouków" ("Teach Yourself English Manual") and the edition dated 1958. It consisted of twelve booklets and a glossary. I fell in love with it at the first sight and started rewriting phrases that sounded absolutely charming, like "my pen is read" or "the book is on the table". At that time I was perhaps thirteen which nowadays would sound strange for a beginner's age, as children (including my own) start practising in kindergarten. In that era, however, every Polish child was supposed to learn and adore Russian and in less frequent cases had the opportunity to pick up some German. English was an extravagance.

I remember this fascination with English never stopped in my teens. I used to watch "Demspey and Makepiece" or "Robin of Sherwood" tv series with a pencil and a piece of paper to note down phrases. A year after I'd discovered the dusty handbook, I got my first private English teacher, just at the other end of the city, a half an hour drive (my parents were hoping one day I would leave our communist country for some democratic, English speaking one). But then the Round Table occurred, and I have never emigrated nor had the chance to contemplate such possibility, as well as never stopped exploring English.