If you ever go back to where you lived when you were young, in a nostalgic revisiting, that world always looks so much smaller than you thought. I used to tell my children of the heroic trips that I made to school in the hard winter of 1963. How the school bus couldn't get up Coombe Hill so we were forced to trudge for miles through deep snow drifts.
When I took them to see, it turned out that the school was really just down the road and around the corner. Obviously I had grown much bigger since then so the distances seemed much shorter to me. I felt like a fraud until I realised that the children were small and so they were very impressed.
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