Memories are such odd bizarre things, aren't they?
You have lots of memories and the further they go back, the nicer the world felt.
My earliest memory is of the feel of the carpet when I was in Primary School, in Yeading. It has a clean feel to it with a very short pile - more functional than luxurious. The other memory I have of that period is getting on to the school coach at the beginning of the day, and being driven to my primary school. My brother is sticking me on and telling me I'll have a great time. I'm sick inside and almost crying.
Other memories are not so banal. When I was 7 my mother died in a housefire, and I was there at the time. I won't go into it as it's always painful to dwell upon but a lot of my memories concentrate around that period.
After that, I have memories of outings, school friends long since gone and the closer we get to the present the more banal - the more average the memory - they become.
I speak of memories now because for the last few days, Elsha and I have been down in Bath, in Somerset. It's a wonderful place with great architecture and history, and its far, far from being like London. The old aldage, that people are friendly outside of London, was proved right when on our first day we tried to find our Guest House, we had 2 old ladies asking if we needed directions. And there I was thinking we were about to be mugged...
Finally arriving at the Athole Guest House, we were shown into very nice accommodation; a large bedroom with onsuite facilities, a shower that I can only describe as being out of this world, and a digital tv for those nights where we couldn't afford or were too tired to go out. It's all run by a very nice man by the name of Wolfgang and his staff, where "all you have to do is ask" is the motto. And, boy, does he cook up a mean cooked breakfast!
The next few days we travelled around, saw the usual sights, window shopped, but for the most part our trip out to Bath was to see and say goodbye to Elsha's relatives there, on her mother's side - the O's.
A large dinner with 20 family members allowed us to chat and dine with them and for memories to begin pouring out. And of course that was the most interesting part for me, being from such a small family with little or no ties to our families abroad.
Memories of Elsha's mother when she was young and how she interacted with her siblings. Memories of our visits down to Bath 8 years ago. Questions from the youngsters on what Australia is like and how it compares to England. The talk was rich and varied and fun was had by all. It was a shame for it to end.
We came away wondering why we hadn't moved to Bath so long ago, in the first place.