My very own passport 1975

So I missed the worst winter England had experienced in 1963, lucky me! However, the African climate did not prepare me for the grey foggy days which waited my arrival, nor did I know what to do with snow which magically appeared from sky above in winter days. In an old Victorian home with draft coming from all directions, I was happy to share a big Victorian bed with my two sisters, it was one way to keep myself warm . I went to the local state school, had the usual school trips to places like Bath and Blackpool. As the years went by, the sun, sand and the Mombasa beach with coconut trees together with jungle safaris to Nairobi, Voi and Arusha became distance memories. My geography lessons, helped by the crush I had for the Geography teacher, led me to day dream about travelling to all the places I had studied. The first trip I had in mind was to Butlins holiday camp because all my class mates went there during summer holidays, where as, I always finished up in streets of Bradford with the family!!

 My first break for travelling came when I decided to accompany my mother to India. I have been there, when I was only 4 with all my family from Mombasa in a boat to Bombay and all I can remember of the journey was getting sea sick in the big boat and eating pop corns when I arrived in India somewhere?

 So, there I was in 1975 with my very own passport which I remember I lost it  for few hours, having left it in a phone box !!!  I was off on my very own summer holidays....... to the land of my parents and my forefathers.....