He was awarded the OBE for services to Newcastle and a knighthood for services to Teesside. Now he has written his first book. Owen Amos meets Sir Ron Norman and asks how did this South London boy end up here?

IN the past six years, Sir Ron Norman has built his own house, bound his own books, climbed mountains across the world and written a Bill Bryson-style – Brysonic, if you like – travel book. Not bad for a 71 year old.

In 1986 he received the OBE for services to urban regeneration in Newcastle and, in 1995, received his knighthood for services to Teesside. He’s Deputy Lieutenant for the County of Durham – “I lay a few wreathes, I’ve received Princess Anne twice – it’s not arduous” – is chairman of Durham County Scouts, and founded the Cleveland Community Foundation, worth £5m.

Not bad for a boy born in Kent, brought up in South London and with a Cockney lilt still lurking.

“I’m obviously in no-man’s land,” he says. “I regard myself as a Northerner, my family regard me as a Northerner – and N o r t h e r n e rs regard me as a Southerner.”

A thousand words isn’t much for a 71- year-old’s life story. When your life’s included high b u s i n e s s , knighthoods and walking naked in Borneo – to come later, if there’s space – it’s even harder. Apologies, in advance, for the brevity.

After a scholarship at Dulwich College and a first-class degree at King’s College, London, where he was university boxing champion, Sir Ron was a twenty-something management consultant when his boss gave him a challenge.

“He took me out for lunch, lots of expensive food, and he said ‘I’ve got a nice job for you – would you like to go to the North-East?’,” says Sir Ron. “Well, they were paying me so much I would have gone to Siberia. I was told to go to Hardwick Hall, in Sedgefield. It was a lovely August day, I opened an envelope and it said ‘Now go to Hartlepool’.

They obviously thought if they’d said Hartlepool originally, I’d never have gone.”

His six-week placement with Yuill Homes became two years and then, Sir Ron says, they made an offer “he couldn’t refuse”. He met his wife, Joyce, and soon had too many roots to uproot.

“There was no suggestion we’d want to live anywhere else.”

After 15 years, he left Yuill to start his own company, Ron Norman Ltd, and was awarded the OBE after regenerating Newcastle council estates. He became chairman of the Teesside Development Corporation, which oversaw work including Hartlepool’s marina and Teesside Park, and retired – from paid work, at least – aged 65.

Very good, you’re thinking. Now tell us about walking naked in Borneo.

Sir Ron and Joyce were hitch-hiking in Borneo’s jungles, the story goes, when they got soaked in a rainstorm.

When the rain stopped, he took his clothes off, tied them to his rucksack and let them dry. “After all,” he says, “there was nobody about.”

That is until a tall, muscular, loincloth-wearing man, with a long-blow pipe and darts, appeared.

He took one look, apparently, greeted Sir Ron cheerfully and disappeared soon after.

Bareback in Borneo is one of many diversions in “Odd Man Out In The Alps”: ostensibly the story of Sir Ron’s walk along the Grand Randonee Cinq, from Lake Geneva to Nice; actually an Ordnance Survey map of history, observation, opinion and cheerful prejudice.

Like, for example, when Sir Ron tries to discover the cricket score in France. “I remembered the French don’t do cricket any more than they do baths”, or chapter ten, simply called: “I hate ski resorts”. It brings to mind Sir Edmund Burke, the 18th Century Anglo-Irish political theorist, who declared prejudice “the wisdom of the ages”.

Politicians don’t escape either. “Such impact of big politicians on small people,” he writes, “makes you realise that we would all benefit from fewer politicians, fewer regulations and far less government.”

He has no party – “My attitude is a plague on both their houses” – but, for a successful businessman with constant community involvement, did politics not appeal? You’d imagine this exboxer could give either of Teesside’s elected mayors – Stuart Drummond in Hartlepool and Ray Mallon in Middlesbrough – a few tough rounds.

“I did seriously think about it when I retired,”

he says. “My wife was not in favour. She thought it would be unnecessarily rough and that I should find pleasant pastures. You have to be thickskinned, and I don’t ever want to be thick-skinned.

It’s a regret, but it was the right decision – my wife got it right.”

HIS house in Dalton Piercy, on Hartlepool’s outskirts, has a few tales too. “My wife used to say ‘I’d love an architect-designed house’,” says Sir Ron. “The great advantage of being young is you say ‘Yes dear, one day’. Then when you retire, that one day is now. We decided to convert this (an old barn).

“We had two of the most skilled joiners in Hartlepool, the most skilled bricklayer, and we did it ourselves. I worked on site. It was the best year of my life. It was like building sandcastles when I was six years old.”

The pair have been married 33 years, have five children between them from previous relationships and five grandchildren. They’re cycling 1,000km down the Danube – so far, they’ve gone from the Black Forest to Vienna – and, this winter, Sir Ron plans to climb his last seven Munros.

Which begs the most important question: where does he get the energy?

“The greatest advantage I have over my friends is I stopped playing serious sport when I was 20,”

he says. “I boxed until I was 20, played rugby until I was 22 – I was only good at brutal sports – then stopped. My friends who played all the way until 35 have hip replacements and goodness knows what. I have saved my body.”

So when will he stop? “On my final day,” he says.

■ Odd Man Out In The Alps by Sir Ron Norman (Stacey International, £16.95)