thoughts of my dad

I was watching the news last night and they showed pictures of the Cutty Sark on fire. It brought back memories of my Dad.

When I was about 4/5 years old, my dad went to do his sabatical at a college in England. He sailed off on the Fair Sky to spend his year away. Despite being based in Bradbury, he did a lot of touristy type things and sent Kat and me heaps of postcards of the things he had seen. Usually, we got different cards, never from the same place. The exception was when he visited Greenwich.

Dad visited the Cutty Sark and fell in love. He was a boaty sort of person anyway and the romance of the old tea clipper caught his imagination. He visited it several times during his stay abroad and sent us both cards from there each time.

I have a great stack of cards he sent. There are picture of cathedrals and chalk men and stone circles and steam engines. There are some from ports he called into on the way over. There are a few from France and Germany that he visited on the way home. And there are pictures of the Cutty Sark. Seven of them.

This afternoon I might have a bit of a slide show and have a look at the masses of photos Dad took on his travels. Amongst the boxes and boxes of slides labelled 60/61, I am betting that there might be a fair few of that particular dry dock in Greenwich.

Just a few.