....in truth, I can't remember much. I realised this as I travelled up to Walsall in the the Midlands the other week to see my Grandpa Salt (my mum's Dad) in hospital. I hadn't been there for a good few years, and having only lived there at age 1, have never considered it my home as such, but for some reason I felt a strange nostaligia for the place. I started thinking about my childhood. Frustrated by my lack of ability to conjure memories, I asked my mum about myself, we went to see old houses, took a visit to the arboretum, where there used to be a big public, concrete, paddling pool, laughing kids and ice cream. This has of course been replaced with rubber padded swings on a ground made of sponge. Well, we can't have kids getting a scraped knee afterall!
On that day, I felt more connected to my past, you see, I had a trip down memory lane, occasionally stopping to look at the view to say "I dont remember it looking like that" or "Why is it there was no johnny's or dog shit in the park when I was a kid?".
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