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Aussietrekker's memoirs (in many instalments)
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aussietrekker aussietrekker has been starred
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 24, 2011 9:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

MONDAY, MARCH 21, 1964- THE BELFAST DOCKS.

We took our leave of the house around teatime, and I was glad it was no earlier- I'd been following a serial called Swallows and Amazons on TV every Monday afternoon for weeks, and was relieved at making it to the final episode before we left. Beth and Laurance, the new owners of the house, had kindly offered to take us to "the Boat". Laurance took two photos of us in our final moments, then we headed off into the dark road. When we arrived at the docks, a number of relatives had gathered to see us off. It was still winter, and my Granny recalled many years later what a beautiful mild evening it was. It was very exciting being on the threshold of a big adventure, with so much family around. It was the first time I'd seen all my grandparents together, that in itself was a novelty. They gave us presents to take with us. Granny McGurgan gave us each a prayer book. My Aunt Kathleen gave me a little black wallet containing three little miniature metal religious statues, each in their own compartment. No doubt they were intended to assist in a safe journey. Grandad Houston was a bit more practical- he put two shillings into my hand and said "buy yerself a cup of tea on the Boat". ( I wanted to tell him that I didn't drink tea- in my innocence I felt like it was being taken on false pretences - but I wasn't going to knock back two shillings either).
And so we said our goodbyes, got onto the boat for an overnight journey to Heysham in England, and accepted that we would never see our family again.
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Phyl Phyl has been starred
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 24, 2011 9:55 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

so good to read your memoirs again AussieTrekker.You sure have a gift for writing. Very Happy
Hope you are keeping well again now.
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aussietrekker aussietrekker has been starred
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 24, 2011 11:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Thanks Phyl...yeah I'm fine now, and just have my usual chronic ailments- and a very impressive scar behind my ear. Cool
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PostPosted: Sat Jan 29, 2011 8:41 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Judith your installments are not long enough ,I just get in to it and it finishes,your worse tha Stephen King when he did the green mile in installments Shocked Shocked
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Carol Myers Altona Hostel Dec 1962 - June 1964
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PostPosted: Sat Jan 29, 2011 10:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

It all comes down to time, and other stuff I have to do like jobs and housework, interruptions etc. Wouldn't we all like to write like Stephen King, we'd be loaded.
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PostPosted: Sat Jan 29, 2011 11:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The "Boat" had a name- it was called the DUKE OF ROTHESAY. We found our cabin, downloaded our luggage and went for a wander to the upper deck. Who should we meet but our neighbours the Hansliks, who had been allocated the same departure date and were also travelling by plane, but on a different flight and route. The oldies talked for a while, and the kids went exploring. My old pre-school friend Kenny had detached himself previously, and was investigating every structure that could be climbed. Eventually we parted ways, wished each other good luck for the future, and retired to our cabins for a very early start in the morning.
The cabin was fun- I had never seen bunks before, and I wanted the top bunk, well I was entitled to it being the eldest and less likely to fall out in the night. Every fixture was of beautiful polished wood. I did a reassuring stocktake of my few toys and possessions, and counted my money. I checked out my recently-acquired religious objects, and set the statues on a ledge where I could see them. The next thing I remember was a rude awakening in what seemed to be the middle of the night- we had to get ready and leave for the train to London, which was due to depart around 6am.
We went straight onto the train and it was still dark. There is little to report on the train journey although it was six never-ending hours long. Sitting in the one spot, looking out the window made it interminable thanks to Father, who expected nothing less than exemplary behaviour from his offspring in public places, and on no account could we go exploring down the aisles to the potential annoyance of other passengers. Compounding my boredom was travel-sickness. Dad and I were great travellers but Mum was not, and the younger ones never even made it back home in the car from my Granny's in Belfast without an incident. So it was a long six hours, but it would all be worth it when we got to London. I had high expectations of London. London was the centre of the Universe, since that's where all the good TV shows came from. and where the news was read from each night. There would be loads of shops for me to spend my two shillings and other funds, and certainly way more action than what we'd left behind in Ireland.
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PostPosted: Mon Jan 31, 2011 10:27 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

London was boring. Where were the shops, and the London Palladium and the BBC? We saw none of those things. Just streets full of houses. They all had railings, and steps that went to somewhere below street level, just like the public toilets in Belfast. We were staying the night in a B&B, and Mum told me years later that we'd stayed in Earl's Court, obviously in a residential area. Dad went off by himself for the day, to visit Australia House and the bank. The rest of us spent the day just walking around these monotonous streets with not even a corner shop. We had a brief moment of excitement when I spotted a yellow canary on one of the railings- it must have escaped from one of the boring houses, and I couldn't blame it.
When Dad returned, he had brought all this new money, and it wasn't boring at all! He laid out all these strange coins and we had our first glimpse of Australian money, the currency that we'd be using for the rest of our lives. All the coins except one looked like our own real money, but with much nicer pictures. We just loved the penny, with the picture of the kangaroo. Having pennies with a kangaroo made us feel a litlle bit Australian already. The threepence was a tiny little round silver thing, not multi-sided; sixpence and two-shillings had a coat of arms, and the shilling had a beautiful sheep's head. There was no half-crown. Dad then surprised us with three money boxes from the bank. They were plastic, and were shaped like a book with a slot on the top. The downside was there was no way to get the money out- which resulted in a lot of grief later on, and multiple stabbings with a hostel knife. But we loved our new money boxes, and our accumulated windfalls had a new home.
Next morning we went to Heathrow airport. It was huge, and full of people. In those days, everyone dressed up in their best threads to travel on a plane and even the children wore hats. Mum spotted a very handsome and well-dressed young man also travelling on our flight- he made something of an impression on her, and she remarked to my Dad how respectable he looked.
The worst was over. No more injections, train trips, houses with railings. We were on our way, courtesy of the Australian Government and BOAC. Ten pounds each for Mum and Dad, and kids were free.
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PostPosted: Wed Feb 02, 2011 9:32 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I would pay money for a memory like that!!!
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Carol Myers Altona Hostel Dec 1962 - June 1964
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 03, 2011 12:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Laughing
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PostPosted: Thu Feb 03, 2011 10:22 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

We walked up the wheelie-stairs onto the plane, and it was one of the most exciting moments of my life. It was a fine looking plane called a Comet 4, white with a navy horizontal stripe which terminated around the cockpit. The Comet 4 was a state-of-the-art plane at that time, and had the majestic seating capacity of 81! The concept of the "battery-hen class" was at least ten years away. It was just like a modern day plane to Sydney, but much roomier. Our side of the plane had rows of three seats, with only one aisle separating the other side which had two seats. They put the three kids together on the left-hand side, and Mum and Dad directly behind. This gave us an air of independence, and we could see the parents anytime through the gaps between the seats. The crew in the cockpit were separated from the passengers only by a divided curtain. which flew for a while at a 45 degree angle when the plane took off.
Dad had been on a plane for the first time just a few weeks before, when he'd gone from Belfast to Newcastle to say goodbye to his brother Harry. Mum- who was participating in the whole venture under suffrance- was petrified and was to remain so throughout the journey. For us kids, being on a plane was pure magic. The seats in front had pockets with magazines, and each had a long green bag made of heavy greaseproof paper. Mum said they were sickbags, and I thought that was so gross. People got seasick on boats and ships, but surely not on my sacred aircraft! Eventually the inevitable would happen, and the train journey from Heysham to London would be repeated for our family's three susceptible members, and one bag after another would be replaced. Mum loved to tell people later on that we used up all the green bags on the plane, like it was some kind of badge of honour.
The Captain announced that the flight would take 31 hours and would have six refuelling stops- Tel Aviv, Teheran, New Delhi, Rangoon, Singapore and Darwin. We would arrive in Melbourne on Friday, March 27...Good Friday.

The plane took off, and for the first of six times, the curtain flew.
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PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2011 8:01 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I feel for your Mum Aussietrekker, I too, am petrified of plane journeys.They scare the living daylighgts out of me. Rolling Eyes
Enjoying your memoirs. Smile
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PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2011 8:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

OOPs, daylights. Rolling Eyes
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PostPosted: Fri Feb 04, 2011 11:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Spelling errors are becoming more common, with our dodgy eyesight that can't see the keyboard anymore.
My poor Ma was afraid of anything that moved. No matter how homesick she was, she wouldn't go back. She used to tell people if they'd build a bridge between here and Ireland, she'd walk it. Laughing
Me, I can't get on another plane quick enough. Sleep like a baby on the long hauls, and am always the last to get off.
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 05, 2011 8:41 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

OMG the very thought of going on a plane terrifies me,My brother and sister are going to England for a holiday in July and they have asked me to go too,but I am hesitant as I am terrified of flying,but I dearly want to go cry
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Carol Myers Altona Hostel Dec 1962 - June 1964
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PostPosted: Sat Feb 05, 2011 7:45 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Aussietrekker,I wish they would build a bridge from NZ to Sydney then I could visit my son but he visits me so I am fortunate.

Stormfour ,What a predicament but you will decide,fear of flying is an awful thing isn't it.
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