- The smell of the North Sea during holidays in Wenduine. A week's stay in a lovely old informal hotel on the sea front with mum and gran, which for most of my childhood was my only annual holiday away from home. A week of sand castle building, rollerskating, go-karting, paper flower selling, shell collecting, swimming, dune climbing, tram riding (the tram stop was underneath our hotel window and I was obsessed with the tram time table) and Bruges-visiting
- Related to the previous item: the sight of men in bright white overalls (with a green BP logo on their backs) setting up and organising motorised go-karting races just off the beach. I never took part but always watched and it never failed to impress me. Undoubtedly the reason why I still like uniforms.
- Christmas and winter at home. We had a fake silver tree loaded with sparkly balls and ribbons (no minimalism there!). Home heating was provided by a massive coal range which went for about 6 months of the year. Dad used it in his bread baking efforts. I loved it when it snowed and the railway embankment opposite our flat was covered in white, with the promise of sledging down it in the morning.
- The Eurovision Song Contest. I watched religiously from the mid 1960s. (Have I told you I was an early starter?) I distinctly remember watching Sandie Shaw win barefoot and Cliff Richard being beaten by a Spanish diva. When ABBA won I lost interest because it couldn't get any better than that. I avidly collected the score sheets and kept my own versions on the night. It usually was the biggest night of the year for me.
- Going to the pictures, which included a shortfilm, news, publicity and an icecream break. There were over a dozen cinemas in Antwerp at the time and they all displayed stills from their current features next to the box office. I never understood why anyone wanted to go watch films whose black & white stills showed reclining females dressed in little else but black panties and bras. It was only much later I realised the stills poorly represented the actual R18 films. But it sure looked arty.
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- Doge at Yadoge
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