My parents were massive fans of the Scouting movement. Back when we lived in London, I was part of the 6th Harrow Cubs, a group that was dead set on teaching us practical skills. In fact, they were so big on it that my left arm was absolutely covered in badges, practically weighed down by my own achievements.

But then we moved to Upton Snodsbury in the Midlands. I joined a new Cub pack in the neighboring village of Peopleton, run by a guy named Dick Carrington, our Akela. On my first day, I rocked up with this sleeve full of badges, while the local kids had none. They all crowded around, wanting to know how on earth I’d managed to get so much silverware, but being so young, I just shrugged it off. It was just what we did in Harrow

Seeing my sleeve must have lit a fire under Dick. He suddenly became incredibly motivated to get us out camping so the other boys could earn their "Explorer" and "Cooking" badges. It was great for us because we learned actual life skills, the kind of stuff where if you need to build a shelter out of nothing but your surroundings, or start a fire with two sticks, you actually know how

Then came the big announcement: Akela wanted us to enter the local Cub Jamboree in Pershore. But he didn't want to do the usual scouting stuff; he said we needed to do something completely different

You have to remember the era. Back then, there was no Spotify and no internet. If you wanted to know what was in the pop charts, you sat down on Thursday night to watch Top of the Pops. A staple of the show was Pan's People, an all-female dance troupe who would perform a routine to one of the charting hits

For reasons lost to time, our Cub leaders decided that we, a group of young village boys, should become Pan's People. Our routine? Dancing to "December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)" by The Four Seasons. To this day, I pray to God that no photographic evidence exists, because my costume involved wearing one of my mum's nightdresses

Conclusion

While I went into the Scouts expecting to learn how to survive in the wilderness, I ended up learning how to survive a drag routine in a village hall. It’s funny how life works out; I may have forgotten how to light a fire with two sticks, but to this day, whenever I hear the opening bars of "December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)", I can't help but smile