It was my mother's father who was a key inspiration for me during my simple and healthy upbringing in a Swiss village near Zurich. Ours was very much a traditional family with mum staying at home keeping house while dad was a pharmacist.
My grandfather had grown up in a mountain village, the son of a farmer and one of 10 kids. But at the age of 17, he'd left Switzerland to learn French in Paris. By the time he was 20 he was living in Casablanca in Morocco and then he moved on to become a chef in Cape Town, South Africa.
I liked the fact he was an adventurer and loved to talk to him when he came home, listening to all these fascinating stories from far-off lands. In fact it was to rub off on me in that I decided, like him, to go into the hotel business.
Up until then I'd found school too traditional in that my teachers were almost an extension of my parents and had a lot of authority. It wasn't uncommon, if you broke school rules, to have a ruler rapped on your hands and it hurt.
Once we tied someone we didn't like to a tree and threw apples at him. I received a slap in the face for that and learned my lesson swiftly.
One favourite prank was called tipping cows. Cows often fall asleep standing up, so we'd suddenly push them over, much to their surprise.
I wasn't academically inclined - couldn't be bothered with stuff like algebra so my marks were diabolical - but I did enjoy the more creative elements. I was more into history and subjects about which I could use my imagination and to which I could apply my life. I was, I suppose, a thinker. I'd also read happily for hours, especially about foreign cultures and countries.