Freya and I recently went to stay with my parents for four days to celebrate my dad’s 74th birthday.
My brother and my nephew were due to fly in from the US but their plane was cancelled and then my nephew was poorly so they weren’t able to make it. We had been looking forward to it for months, as we haven’t seen them for two years now, so the fact they couldn’t come made us very sad, although it couldn’t be helped.
We did our best to try and enjoy ourselves though, which included taking Freya to an old childhood haunt called Nacton Shore, on the banks of the River Orwell, near Ipswich.
Some of my dad’s family lived in the village of Nacton and he also used to work in the area when he was a boy, cycling more than six miles there and back every day, but none of us had been there for many years. It hadn’t changed that much.
My brother and I spent many a happy hour on the shore when we were little so it was nice to go somewhere with happy memories of us together as a family, even if we couldn’t be together.