Ian Barbour, who died unexpectedly last week at the age of 60, was a rare example of a true old-school City gent. Always engaging, with a dimpled smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye, he was a hugely popular and well-known figure in the Square Mile.
A former (and very proud) tank commander after Sandhurst, upon leaving the army Ian moved first into financial printing and then into investor relations, where he built an extraordinarily broad and deep network of friends and admirers across almost all areas of the London financial market.
In his spare time he was massively keen on sliding down steep slopes at extreme speeds (mostly, but not always, icy ones), also serving as a director of British Bobsleigh for many years, fly fishing (mostly on chalkstreams, though he caught his first Scottish salmon this summer) and waging war on the local grey squirrel population in Earlsfield with his trusty air rifle.
A young fishing ghillie I bumped into earlier this summer, who had met Ian only once, said to me “Your friend Ian is great, and I’d really like to see him again!” – Ian had that effect on people. And yes, it’s fair to say that not many fish were ever caught after lunch.
Old fashioned Gentleman’s Clubs were an important part of Ian’s life. He was a long-standing and enthusiastic member of Buck’s Club.
He was celebrated as a world-class luncher and bon viveur. His charm was legendary, as was his generosity. If you were meeting Ian you knew that you were in for hours of laughter laced with City gossip and almost certainly the last train home.
Ian went straight into the Army after school, but later gained a degree in History through the Open University of which he was very proud. Always full of interesting knowledge and fresh theories, he maintained a strong interest in and love for all things historical.
A true family man, Ian was devoted to his wife, Sarah, and to his son, Hector, who is at the Reed’s School, one of the City’s great institutions.
Ian Barbour (1965-2025)