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Way back in 1978, when I and my brother were just shorter more annoying versions of our current selves, our parents took us on a three-month holiday through the UK and Europe. Dad kept a travel diary of the places we visited, and for years afterward I would thumb through it to keep the memories alive as I grew up. With the help of that diary I was able to remember a great deal and, eventually, fulfil a long held determination - to return to Europe and see all those great places again. One day, I'll try and organize the photographs as well. But I have to get them off my dad first.
This holiday, three months of European travel, marked the end of our family's life in Papua New Guinea and the beginning of our new life in Australia. It would take me nearly 24 years to return to Europe. |