It was in the summer of 1965, and I was en-route from Wales for a holiday in Austria with my mother and my gran's brother - a favourite uncle - and we had to stay a night in London because of an early flight from Manston, of all places. We asked at the hotel for tickets to whatever was on at the Festival Hall and duly turned up. We sat at the front of the circle and, to my great delight as I had sung in 'Saint Nicholas' the previous winter, the concert was conducted by Benjamin Britten himself. I will always remember it. Rostropovich played the cello concerto. One of my life's great moments.