Peter WALBY

Pierre,
My dear friend, how I will miss you and all the times we spent together, from when I was just 10 years old! I'll remember how you used to get me to chop wood for those cold nights at Thorne House and having me pour you a glass of Scotland's finest until in recent years the roles had changed and you were doing all the pouring! I always enjoyed your company and trusted your opinion on things, whether it was about rugby, Saab 900's or women... and of course other less important...

Thank you to everyone for the amazing floral tribute.

Dear Pierre, I will skip over the first day I met you (one New 'Year's day we will never forget) you came and stayed with me for a few days and we drank Pinneau de Charente every evening. You were an hospitable host to the workmen at Cour de Bois as they carried out the conversion that year singing as they worked after their mid morning aperitifs! I was so happy to at last see you Anne Sophie and Ben all together one weekend at Cour de Bois with the trees in blossom .We will never forget...

Oh Pierre - what can I say - you rogue;raconteur par excellence; (Even wreck on tour sometimes!)mine host forever; charming and witty; jazz feind;rugger bugger; bon viveur - ah yes!

Pierre did't belong in the 21st centuary - he belonged in a different age when life had a different pace with roomfor courtesy and manners, social graces. Drinks when the sun reached the yardarm. A sedate life where he would excel as a roue and ever entertaining rebel and character.

We...

I have to thank Peter for my existence. He did his national service, along with Peter Thorne, in Malaya where he met my father, John Haddon, a regular Army officer. The three of them were lifelong friends and Peter introduced my father to his sister Nicole, later to be his wife and my mother.

As a youngster we always looked forward to Peter's visits, when he did not miss the plane or run out of petrol on the way. Peter exhibited Walby traits - a joie de vivre and an ability to talk...

Pierre was a man you instantly liked. He was warm-hearted, endearing and charmed everyone in his company with his stories, wit and his regard to enjoy life to its fullest.

I have many fond memories of Pierre. With each of them there was fun, there was laughter and often a little wine as well.

He was a lovely man, and will be missed by many.

I remember Peter as a warm & always friendly fun-loving, uncle. He introduced me to my first taste of beer; he set up skiing holidays (as described by Burn); he, together with Anne, agreed to me and my band invading their home in Eastbourne once upon a time (early 90's). We rehearsed in an upstairs room in their huge, wonderful house for a whole week & Peter was the perfect host (enduring the endless repeats of soul & funky tunes with a brave face!! ). On other occasions when problems arose...

My memories of my Uncle Peter in chronological order:
Strange as it may sound when I was quite small I had never seen single-portion tubs of ice cream (I am quite old and they hadn't been invented yet). Either Peter was very considerate about small people, or he really liked ice cream himself - but Tita's freezer compartment was often filled with these tiny marvels of modern packaging and their delicious frozen contents. For a small kid, this was quite a big deal and I remember regarding...

Last night I dreamt about all the fun times we had in France sitting by Pierre's enormous fire and sipping a kir and indulging in lots of charcuterie. Pierre tu me manque et j'espere que tu continue la bonne vie au ciel. Georgie.