As I am still happily on vacation and not only am I taking a break from work, but also from the internet/computer which is truely liberating. I will be sure to post more about my vacation upon my return, but for now, I will pass it on to author Martin King who for the month of August is writing 100 blog posts on the theme of childhood at 100 different blogs and he has written today’s guest post which is a little story of his first trip abroad.
Do you like to travel? Can you remember your first time abroad, in a strange hot and dusty land? I can because I was… 21. That’s right, you read correctly, twenty-one!
Today’s story goes back to when I was about thirteen. That was the time when our car was a once, Bedford ice-cream van. I tell you, I couldn’t make this up if I tried. It was that old, it had a cranking handle to wind it up in the winter if the ignition wouldn’t start. And not only that, but it had had a metal box welded on the top – a sort of do-it-yourself camper van.
So I was thirteen and never even been to London. It is hard to imagine when you consider that London is one of the greatest cities and tourists attractions in the world, but I had never been there.
So this particular weekend my parents had decided to take us down to London in the ice-cream/camper van. By the time we had got there, it was turning dark and we drove around, found a quiet spot in a small cul-de-sac and settled down for the night. You see in that metal box I mentioned earlier that was plonked on the top; that was our sleeping quarters. So us four kids climbed through the little hatch and snuggled down to sleep.
In the middle of the night we were rudely awakened by a loud banging on the side of the van. But don’t worry; it wasn’t a mass murderer or anything. It was in fact the police. Apparently that morning, the queen would be passing by and a odd looking Bedford van parked right in the middle of her route looked very suspicious.
So there you have my first visit to a capital city and being arrested in the middle of the night for being a terrorist…at thirteen. We were let off a few hours later after the police were convinced we weren’t IRA bombers.
I’m sure you all have many stories to tell about travelling to various major cities – but can you top that? No, I didn’t think so.
These blogs are all about fun and sharing. Thank you for reading a ‘#100blogfest’ blog. To find the next blog in the series please click here.
Do you remember your first trip aboad? How old you were? Where you went? Who you were with?