Kevin Wilton grew up in a sleepy backwater town in the Cider swilling West Country of England called Bristol. He travelled all over the country, first as a soldier in the Royal Army Medical Corps and then as a commercial photographer. Somewhere, lost in the huge void between being an Army Path Lab Tech class 3 and photographing the vastness of a nuclear power station, he spent two glorious summers in a sleepy, sea-side town about that was far to the east of England as it was possible to go and still keep your feet dry - Great Yarmouth. There Kevin worked long days in the sun and the rain, though more rain than sun; with men just like Basher, Barry, Martin and Mick-the-Perve, and a little squirrel monkey from Brazil called Howlett. As for the girls, you read and you decide. Kevin now teaches photography in another sleepy backwater town called Brisbane on the farthest eastern edge of Australia. Coincidence, I'd like to think not.
