An interesting question! I had the very real pleasure of knowing Clin in two different circumstances. When I was very young – six or seven years old – he used to visit my school, with boxes full of animals. He would proceed to talk about them (and other things too) for an hour or so before going on his way. It was, without doubt, the most exciting thing that happened in my education, until the moment things went terribly wrong in a chemistry lab many years later (but that's another story).
In later years, I would become a friend, of sorts. That is, I would correspond with him (with all of his letters written on a fantastically old-fashioned typewriter), see him at various gatherings, and, occasionally, receive his telephone calls.
There is no doubt that he was not, in any way, an easy man. Some of his views were deeply unpleasant, and spending time with him could be a trial. He was also somebody who lived in his own world, and was unaware, or uninterested, in the feelings or actions of others. I once introduced him to a maker of factual television documentaries. I imagined that there would be the possibility of a poignant BBC2 programme about him and his work. A meeting was arranged. Meeting my friend afterwards, she was incredulous: there was no way that a programme could be put together, such was Clin's single-minded belief in his own rightness (and everybody else's corresponding wrongness). He had the most extraordinary chip on his shoulder as well, and would, frequently, rail against of the injustices of the world – injustices which saw other people treated with more generosity, fairness, or respect than that were ever given to him.
As a zoologist, he was interesting – but massively out-of-date. His knowledge was a compendium of facts, rather than, I would suggest, a profound scientific understanding. I never had the pleasure of visiting his zoo, but those I know who did, or who even worked there, tell a consistent tale – it was not the finest establishment the world has ever seen.
Most unforgivable, possibly, was a real bigotry that he displayed, at different times. He was no Guardian-reader, for sure, and I once got very cross with him when, as a teacher, I invited him to come to speak to students in my school, only to have him make a rather disparaging comment about those students who had the temerity to be black. I didn't invite him back.
And yet, there was something rather charming and wonderful about him. His enthusiasms were many, and his consistent championing of certain zoos was commendable. His research into the history of zoos was dogged, and he was always generous in sharing his knowledge – and not just through his books. In the days before the Internet made such things so much easier, he enabled many of us who were interested in zoos to meet, and I am not sure that such meetings would have been possible otherwise. On a personal level, therefore, I owe a great deal to him.
For a number of years, he organised an annual animal show in Sussex – known as Zoologica. It was brilliant. I'm not sure that many other people would have been able to bring such a thing about, with, over the years, a giraffe, camels, large numbers of birds and rodents, reptiles, racing ferrets, and all manner of animal-related stuff to be seen.
To my very real regret, I had a falling out with Clin before he died – he objected to a review I wrote of a book of his. Nonetheless, and despite his very many and very obvious feelings, I would put him up there as one of the people who most influenced my interest in zoos.
I googled this and I think it would have been Nottingham Castle.