In 1991, the first computer entered our home. An AMSTRAD PC 1286: 12MHz, 1MB RAM, with a 287 math coprocessor, a 40MB Seagate hard drive, a 12" VGA monitor, an external 1.2MB floppy drive, and an AMSTRAD dot matrix printer. Everything was bought from Micropolis, on Bouboulinas Street, in Piraeus. The reason was my mother, who wanted to continue her involvement with programming. What she couldn’t imagine, however, was that her son would spend countless more hours in front of that screen.

The years passed. The machine was replaced by faster, more modern systems, and the AMSTRAD ended up looking like a relic from another era, eventually forgotten in the basement along with all the “useless” things.

In 2021, almost 30 years later, I decided to look for it. I found it buried in bags, yellowed, worn down by humidity and time. It looked nothing like the image I had in my mind. I took it with me to Thessaloniki and made a decision: no matter what it took, I would restore it. It was perhaps the most important project I had taken on up to that point, and it had to be done right.

I started with the power supply. The computer wouldn’t even boot. Its condition was terrible. After a full recap, fixing cold solder joints, cleaning, and replacing the fan, it started delivering proper voltages again. I sanded down the rusted metal parts and repainted them—good as new.

Next was the motherboard. The corrosion and damage were so extensive that, despite everything I tried, I never managed to restore it. Countless hours of measuring, repairing, and cleaning led nowhere. At some point, I found an identical dead 286 motherboard from Spain, sold by someone who had also tried to save it but no longer had the time. I bought it hoping that with transplants and some “alchemy” I could make it work—but unfortunately, nothing. I got tired and gave up. Time passed, I picked it up again, then left it again. Much later, an opportunity appeared: a motherboard from Germany, but from the 386 model at 20MHz with 4MB of RAM. Same exact layout, just faster, and it would fit in the case like the original. With many reservations, I bought it. I wanted the original board, but at the same time I couldn’t stand seeing the computer sitting lifeless in the corner. I received it in decent condition, cleaned it, checked it, installed it—and it booted! I felt relieved. No turning back, I said—we move forward as is.

Next came the monitor. On the first power-up, a Rifa capacitor exploded. Classic case, I thought—easy fix. I replaced it and the monitor came back to life. I disassembled everything, washed and cleaned it, did a full recap, fixed all its geometry issues, and felt encouraged again. But my joy didn’t last long. I had missed two tricky cold solder joints in the power section near a socket, and during one power-up it short-circuited and never turned on again. I repaired it, replaced burnt resistors and anything else I found—but nothing. I started realizing that beyond the power supply, the monitor’s main board had also been damaged. At that point I wondered if the machine was cursing me for neglecting it for 30 years in the basement. Eventually, I found a donor—an identical non-working monitor. Here we go again with the “alchemy,” I said. I received it, took it apart, and discovered it had a similar issue in the power supply. This time, though, with the changes I made, it came back to life. Enough, I said—I didn’t want any more surprises. I restored it like new, with absolute care, double- and triple-checking everything.

Final stretch: cleaning and whitening everything. I had to wait until last summer because the machine is large, and only under the sun could I properly do retrobright (except for small parts). Nothing was left untouched. Once I finished, it was time for assembly and final setup.

I decided to upgrade the system as much as possible, always within the technological limits of its era. So I disabled the onboard Paradise VGA and installed a Tseng 4000 with 1MB of memory. For sound, I had originally started with an AdLib and later moved to a Sound Blaster, so a Sound Blaster Pro was the best upgrade. As for storage, with the help of XT-IDE loaded via a network card, I installed a 1.2GB Seagate hard drive and a CompactFlash as a slave for easy file transfers. Finally, next to it took their place my first three joysticks that I had bought with my own money: a De Luxe-Joy by ACS Microtechnica, an Elite Super Joystick by PIM Express in red, and a Quickshot QS-113.

Arriving at the present, I was sitting last night doing the photoshoot, and as I looked through the camera screen, I thought… “it was worth the effort.” This machine was the beginning. The reason I fell in love with computers. The reason I got into graphic design, drawing my first lines in Deluxe Paint. The reason I got into electronic music. And along with all that, I remembered that one unique photo I still have from back then, my mother sitting in front of it, reading and doing calculations.