What is it that makes one person keen to explore the world and another content to stay in the same place they were born? Is in in the genes? Is it curiosity? Comfort? Fear? Boredom?
As a child growing up in the UK my wanderings began before I had any say in them as my parents moved several times before I was a teenager, purely for dad’s employment. Being introduced as the new kid in school was embarrassing and cringe-making. I hated it, but it was what it was. Fortunately from the age of 10 we stayed put in Wakefield, West Yorkshire. Or at least they did. For a while.
Dad did ponder on taking us to Australia on the £10 scheme, but chickened out at the last minute which made me sad because I was so looking forward to seeing kangaroos and koalas and living by the sea. It did however spark a keen interest in all things Australian and what else was out there in the world and needless to say my favourite subject was geography.
Fast forward to 1970 when I was due to finish my O levels. I had enjoyed my grammar school education in the main, being part of the (rather successful) hockey team left me with good memories and great pals, I contributed to the school magazine, loved the English and Geography trips (mainly to parts of the Yorkshire moors and dales) and enjoyed the languages I studied (French, German and Latin if you are remotely interested). My mother was keen for me to continue to study my A levels and go on to university. I, however had other plans. I decided I would train in hotel management, the idea being that it would be a route into working overseas. So off I went to Huddersfield Polytechnic.
I didn’t last long. The fact that I had to board during the week in a very inhospitable house which smelled of boiled cabbage (the sort you boil all day) combined with a very harsh typing teacher who hit the backs of your hands with a ruler if you dared to look at the keys whilst typing, severely tested my enthusiasm. When told I would be working in Harrogate over the Christmas break (the work experience part) away from friends and family, I quit. In retrospect that wasn’t the cleverest move on my part. But you can’t undo the past.
Six months later, standing in the kitchen drying the dishes from the usual Sunday lunch, with my mother washing up, my then boyfriend, dad and brother sitting in the lounge watching the football I had a lightbulb moment. My future life lay before me.

And so I cooked up a plan…
This is going to be so interesting Jude – it is already. I share early years experiences with you too. I think we moved about 7 times before I was 8 – partly due to my father’s difficulties in getting embarked on a career as a Polish immigrant. I also rated English and Geography (also History) at school, and I too have lived in Wakefield, though as a young married in my case. I taught there for a while, and realised teaching was not for me. You’ve also revealed your age. I was a 1963 O Level cohort, in London in my case. I’m offended you didn’t want to go to Harrogate – as you know I’ve lived there too!
I thought it was time I wrote about this trip seeing as I still have the copious notes written at the time. My coming of age story. All part of the decluttering process. And I have reached the age where the numbers mean nothing now. Not many photos I’m afraid and those I do have are not very good – it was a very small instamatic camera.
What else was there but Instamatics in those days eh?
I can’t even remember what this one was, very basic. I did get a Kodak which used those films in a cartridge for my 21st. So no more having to fiddle about in the dark.
Oh, yes. Happy days! Not.
Wow! You know how to do a cliffhanger! As a fellow wanderer, I’m very much looking forward to the next chapter, Jude.
The start of my itchy feet. It’s probably going to be fairly boring I think, but having hung onto my notes for several decades I needed to write them up before I bin them!
Yay! I wondered what would replace benches. A good bit of yarn telling. I made a false start too, with Top Shop as a trainee Fashion Buyer in London. It all came to naught… Looking forward to next week’s episode xx
The diary of a bored teenager! And yes, mostly words as not many photos.
Looking forward to the continuation, Jude.
Best wishes, Pete. x
It won’t be anywhere as good as your tales Pete.
Looking forward to the next episode.
Tales of a bored teenager! When I think back on that adventure I wonder about how innocent I was.
I look back at some of the things in my past and think the exact same thing. I went to Europe for almost a year between my junior and senior years in college, backpacking and taking the train. It was a total adventure and I fortunately missed out on having any bad things happen.
I had a few narrow misses. But it’s all part of the tapestry of life.
True.
What a superb cliffhanger!
Haha… glad you think so!
Jude, from the moment I saw this land, and saw what the subject matter was, I determined to set aside proper reading time, thinking it would be a lengthy post. Infinitely better, it’s an introduction to what is going to be a fascinating collection based on a great idea. I’m going to be more than fascinated to follow. I may even have to steal your idea one day! So looking forward to the following parts now. Oh, and by the way, I can now place you at just 3 years older than me….
It’s not that exciting I’m afraid. Just the diary of a young kid who set out on an adventure with no idea of what or where or how. But it will be nice to have you along.
Oh on the contrary, Jude. Just that middle sentence says everything I want to read. Back stories of travellers…well, back stories of most people…are fascinating, and I can’t wait to read.
I didn’t expect your narration not to resolve.
This will continue for a while Steve.
I do like a good memoir! And if that makes me nosy, so be it. Also amused at people working out your age because I did the same sum (1973 O’levels so three years younger – and much less adventurous.)
Found my old notes whilst doing some decluttering and thought why not put them on the blog. After all it was the start of my itchy feet syndrome.
Good idea! I have various autobiographical bits scattered about that I keep thinking I should pull together some time.
Apart from your skill as a hockey player (I was useless at all sports!) your grammar school days echo some of my own, especially the languages studied. But I then took the conventional A levels and uni route, so I’m intrigued to see what direction you followed and where it took you!
My mum would have loved me to go to uni as neither of my older brothers did. Such a disappointment. But when I did eventually go she told me I would be better getting a job in ASDA!
Parents can be hard to please!
😂