My Addiction to Travel – Piercebridge

PiercebridgeCottagesMy addiction to travel surfaced when I was ten years old, it would hit me in about March. I’d get itchy feet. You can’t go far when you’re ten, but I’d take off on my bike, usually on my own, and have a little adventure. I’d visit villages I’d never been to, or just pack my lunch and enjoy the countryside. I lived in a picturesque little village in Northern England called Summerhouse. It was safe to be on your own back in 1967.

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My first solo trip found me in Piercebridge and brings back happy memories. It was quite a ride! I should go back and visit, see how things have changed, but its a long way from Colorado, and this is where I ended up. The travel bug was a family affair!

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Wotunny?

Grandma!

Wotunny?

I love you Grandma!

I love you too!

Wotunny is of course “what honey?”

My mum was born and raised in the North of England, and although not quite a Geordie, she was close. I used to make fun of her accent, but I miss it so much. She’d play tirelessly with my daughter when she was a little girl. They’d sit in their make-believe airplane (under the table) and pretend they were flying to Barbados. My mum was in her eighties at the time. It couldn’t have been comfortable sitting on the floor. She didn’t have much padding on her bones as she got older. I’d prepare dinner and smile as I listened to them talk.

Grandma!

Wotunny?

I love you!

I love you too pet!

Miss you mum!

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