another bloody yank

Good morning!

Jerseygirl

You haven't met Vic then?

another bloody yank

No, but I'd like to!

Lycanthrop

Went to Spain.........(yes, your package tour really bought my eye ) and they had meals already in the trays in the seats when you dropped them down.
Hearing my old man comment on how Franco's son was on all the coins and going to this late night thing called a barbecue.

......and Wales........(FFestinniog) which counts as both another country and time travel.

elfman

When I was five years old my Dad took a job in Botswana. My parents had done a stint in Africa before, and had come back by ship: they enjoyed the experience so much that when we went back we went by ship again. We sailed on a liner called the Oranje (picture below) from Southampton to Cape Town, and I vividly remember the moment of departure: we were all up on the deck on a cold grey day and when the ship started to pull away from the dockside a boy just along the rail a year or so older than me shouted “the cranes are moving!!” Even at five years old I remember thinking “DER, how could anyone be that thick?”

Of the journey I don’t remember much except that I was going through a seriously picky stage with food and throughout the trip, for every meal all I would eat was ham, mashed potato, and salad cream. I still have something of a salad cream fetish to this day. The other thing I remember clearly was the ship’s nursery, or “The Crying Room” as my parents and other parents on the ship called it. It had a big old fashioned rocking horse and I remember seeing a boy falling off it and being coldly fascinated by the sound of his head hitting the deck.

On arrival at Cape Town we then had a three day train journey, of which I remember waking in night whenever the train stopped at stations or busy junctions and seeing huge old steam engines with their fireboxes glowing red in the dark. The train reached Gaborone (capital of Botswana and our home for the next two years) in the middle of the night, and someone from Dad’s work came to pick us up. I remember being freaked out by the night sky: sometimes in Africa (and other undeveloped places) the sky can be so clear and free of light pollution that it appears that every single star in the universe is sharply visible – it’s an amazing sight and all a bit much for a sleepy five year old: I yelled “too many stars!!” over and over until bundled into the waiting car.

Spending some of my childhood in Africa gave me a real bond with the place, which is why I went back to work there as an adult. When we returned to Britain two years later we came back by ship again, and being two years older I have excellent memories of that trip. I often think how lucky I am to have experienced travel like that in the days when there were still passenger ships operating other than cruise liners.

Maz

Wow Elfman, that was brilliant, thank you for writing all that up!

nethead

Ditto, that's a great story/memory.

TruBrit

yes tks elfman, very interesting

Sally

Excellent Elfman

I love the rare occasiions when you can see the stars. The sky over Solihull was a always a sickly orange colour all night.

Lord Lionheart

Going to Northern Ireland on a 'trip home' with my Dad.
Sleeping in between the ferry's seats as we didn't have a berth, watching the numerous drunk Irish guys on the ferry swaying all over the place when they walked during the overnight trip over on the boat.
When we got to Belfast it was at the height of the Bay City Roller craze, all the kids on the estate where my Mom grew up seemed to be wearing BCR pants, which were baggy 70's pants with a wide tartan stripe up the side. I still remember the 'Woody, Eric, Alan Leslie and Derek' chants the kids would sing in reverence to their heroes, I'd hardly heard of them back home in Birmingham.
I recall a particularly scruffy family at the top of the street of my Moms estate, the Mom and Dad were on holiday and had left the kids at home to be looked after by the oldest, who was about 17. I remember his name was Jake and thinking how tough and grown-up he looked, the house was overrun by the estates kids while the parents were away, most of them were drinking cider. Jake's party piece was to cover his hands and feet in lighter fluid and set fire to it without getting burnt, which I found completely amazing.
Most embarrassing moment was my cousin, who is now a completely flaming, gay alcoholic hairdresser coming out of his house in his Moms high heels and a dress when I was playing football with the local kids. He was only about 7 and was a sign of things to come........................... wish I'd went to Africa

Jerseygirl

The look on the kids' faces must have been priceless.

Kaffy Mintcake

These are great - anyone else?

Triumphrob

Apparantly, when I was a kid and was asked where I was from while on Holiday in the Isle of Wight, I replied England.........

penguinsix

My 'first' time in the UK wasn't really (we lived there and I traveled with my family back and forth several times) but it was pretty memorable.

I went back on my own for the 'first time' as a 'starving student' to see some friends and goof off. As I was paying for things and on a limited budget, I stayed at this really cheap hotel down by Gloucester Road which was about £18 a night (probably still is). I remember going to the bathroom to take a shower, only to find just a toilet. I looked up and there was the shower above the toilet. "Ok, so this is how it is" I said and I put down the lid and turned on the shower.

The water backed up pretty quickly but I didn't really notice until I felt this rough thing scratching my foot. I looked down to see the moldy toilet brush floating in about 4 inches of water, along with a variety of moldy rags, candy wrappers, and a bunch of hair that wasn't mine.

I checked out as soon as I had dried off, using a sweatshirt I packed rather than the hotel towel. I didn't even stay the night. I jumped on a train up to Cambridge, found another cheap hotel and had a cheap meal somewhere. I then got violently sick, throwing up pretty much for the next two days rather than see my friends who were up there. I managed to get a train back to London (when I felt I wouldn't puke for at least one hour), called up dad and said 'you know how you told me your credit card was for emergencies? I'm in one now'

I checked into a five star hotel in Mayfair, put on a clean bathrobe and slippers, ordered room service and kicked back in bed to recover for a day or two.

Needless to say, it was pretty memorable.

My first real trip (independently) to another country was to Nigeria, which was beyond surreal. Taxi stalling miles from anywhere, live chickens being thrust into my car window, overtipping some street kids in a market and having dozens of them then surround 'the stupid white guy with too much money' and many other memories.

Jimc_usa

My first trip outside of England was to Dublin, Ireland, I was 18 a full of myself. I joined the British army and was posted to Germany(we had the cold bits up North) and met people who couldn't(or wouldn't) speak English. But no matter where I was in the world I was always coming home to England. But then my American wife and I came to the US.

They said we all spoke English, but it was different English than I spoke. I had a very heavy Northern English accent (I didn't know that) and Chicagoans kept asking me to repeat myself.

After buying my first car we drove to a petrol station to fill up and the nozzle would not fit into the petrol tank no matter how hard I tried. Eventually found out I was trying to put leaded gas into an unlead car!

There were so may things that were different in the language including offering to "knock someone up" when she was frequently late for work.