My first port of call was Burns Street, the street that I spent the first 8 or so years of my life attempting to grow up on. I've driven past it a few times since we moved out, but I don't think I'd walked down the street since we left. Everything had shrunken, that's for sure. It used to be at least twice the size that it is now. Especially No.8, the house we used to live in. I had a little spy through the window (yes, I must have looked completely normal peeking through people's front windows with a camera around my neck), the back wall looked like it had jumped a few feet closer to the window too. What horrible disaster could possibly have occurred here? I took my photos and quickly left. Fortunately the street was virtually empty in terms of cars and people (probably another effect of the disaster), so my photos weren't too littered with unwanted obstacles. UNfortunately my mother (who was posing as my chauffeur for the day) managed to park right in the way. Cheers mother!
Here's our old family home, although, when we lived there the front door was brown, not blue, and the windowsills and side gate were a colour halfway between Lime and Aubergine:
The street looks more like part of the East Is East set that I remember.
Where to next? I decided to head over to the roads around my primary school next. I knew there were beautiful houses around there. As we pulled up next to the school I felt slightly nervous. It was lunch time. There were visible children. I had a camera around my next. "Erm, lets go somewhere else mum". So we zoomed off to the road that my old best friend lived on and I got happy snapping along there instead.I think the session was a success. I've got enough to be getting on with now and it was lovely to go back to these places.
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