Washed up in Ogygia

As various people have pointed out, it's 45 years today since the first broadcast of Doctor Who. So maybe I should have been in Cardiff for the Whoniversal Appeal conference this weekend instead of last... But on the plus side, I'll be able to watch the first episode of the remake of Survivors, which seems appropriate as it combines an idea of Terry Nation (who didn't actually write that first episode but came in on December 21) with an actor I favour for the next Doctor (despite disconcerting reports that he's favourite).

Anyway, it finally occurred to me to wonder whether I might have seen the first broadcast, since I'd have been 22 months old at the time. I don't actually remember anything before Troughton, who started in 1966, but I've just enquired of my brother, who was 13 years old; he says he doesn't remember the show until "much later". He does remember the arrival of television in our house, and that on the first night they watched Cliff Michelmore on the Tonight programme. That could have been any time between 1957 and 1965 - but in practice it must have been between 1957 and 1962, because my mother has described propping up my carrycot so I'd keep quiet watching the cricket, which would have been the summer of 1962. Getting back to the point, I'm inclined to think that we didn't watch Doctor Who that first evening, because a journalist's household would probably have been distracted by events in Dallas the previous day. But still, it's possible, and hard to prove beyond doubt that we didn't.

And the anniversary is surely cause to cook cauliflower cheese, which would obviously be the first thing I'd offer the Doctor if he turned up hungry on my doorstep, after the cup of tea.