GERALDINE and I were in London having dinner with old friends, one of whom I’ve worked with in a number of locations.

We were reflecting on life in the last century, before mobile phones and computers and things, when things seemed simpler.

My first coal mine I was employed on, in South Africa, was an underground operation, and the coal mined using a method called bord and pillar.

The coal was taken from 6m-wide roadways, the bords, with pillars left in between to support the rock above.

The main underground access roads were paved and lit and I was surprised to find, on my first trip, that everyone used bikes to ride into the working faces.

This was all fine and dandy but these were robust bikes that were highly prized, so they were nicked at an alarming rate, especially as there were several old shafts the culprits could get the bikes out of at night.

I was friends with the manager, Neville, and he was getting frustrated by this constant loss.

On our next trip underground, he proudly showed me his now, super secure, bike store. They had bricked up the bord with concrete blocks and had the boilermaker build a steel door that looked like it came from Fort Knox.

“Right,” he said, “I’d like to see them get through that”, a note of triumph clear in his voice.

He didn’t have to wait long. I went there a couple of days later, to see a pristine door, with a big hole in the brickwork to it, with not a bike inside to be seen.

Neville was apoplectic and eventually just gave up on bikes altogether.

The only thing missing was a mobile phone to tell everybody about it with photos. Gee, aren’t they handy?