Roaming Brit
  • Blog
  • The Story Of Us
  • Other Blogs
    • Forever Enduring Cycles Blog 2015 >
      • Forever Enduring Cycles
      • Bipolarcoaster
      • Books For Sale
  • Gallery
  • Spain
    • First Month
    • Three Months
    • Six Months
    • One Year
    • 2 Year Anniversary
    • Spanish Views
    • Gran Alacant >
      • GA Advertiser
      • Gran Alacant News
      • LoungeD
      • No Wives Club
  • About
    • New Life
    • Wedding
    • 21 Years
    • Timeline
    • My Story
    • Australia 2016/17
  • Guest Bloggers
    • Penelope Wren
    • Debra Rufini
    • Claire Coe
    • Richard Guy
    • Optimistic Mummy
    • Julie Rawlinson
    • Letters Of Hope
  • Links
  • Contact
  • My Writing
    • Short Stories From My Youth
    • Verruca Almond
    • The Streets

From a new life in spain, to an old life in britain, 'roaming brit' documents uncertain times!

Picture

On 31st January 2016, my partner and I left Southampton to start a new life as Expats in Gran Alacant, on the Costa Blanca. This blog will document our journey, as we navigate the Spanish system, travelling a path untried and untested. With Brexit looming, political turmoil in Europe and an unpredictable future, harsh decisions have to be made. Illness, family bonds and a Change of heart all make for challenging times in a life of a 'Roaming Brit!'

Picture

The Early Years On The Block - That 1970s Community Spirit!

1/8/2021

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
So much is spoken about the lack of community spirit in 2021 and as someone born in the 1970s, I can't disagree. My experiences, growing up in the small market town of Fareham, are very different to that of children in the 2020s. For the most part, I had an idyllic childhood, despite wrestling with my sexuality. My earliest memories are overflowing with recollections of fun filled days, surrounded by friends and family, in an environment I can only dream of today.

I grew up at number 6 Nashe House, in a small suburb of Fareham, called Hill Park. My family all lived within spitting distance, just five or ten minutes away, and we were the first tenants of a new modest two-bedroom flat, one of sixteen, on a small social housing estate on the outskirts of town. Whenever I look back to my childhood, this was the period that resonates with me most. This was a happy, nurturing and cultivating time, the age before life suddenly got hard and the anxiety and stress I still suffer with set in. If the last fifty years of my life was to have a backbone, my early upbringing in Hill Park would be it. This was the best start any young boy could have in life!

As a child I knew all my neighbours, always in and out of each other's houses.  Dancing around Mia's lounge, at five years old, to the sound of classical music, in the flat above; play fighting with Lee in the front garden next door or hiding in the bushes of Mrs Pinks flat on the corner of the block. These were carefree, robust, strength building years, encompassing friends I still speak to today. I never had much as a child; hand me down clothes from extended family and presents bought from a catalogue at Christmas and paid off throughout the year. Occasionally I would get fifty pence pocket money at the end of the week and sweets from Nan on a Saturday afternoon. I did however have a wholesome, healthy, well conditioned upbringing in the safety of a community that always did their best to help!

Looking from my bedroom window, over the communal washing area and resident outbuildings, you could see the local infants school, where I started in the mid 70s. The distant murmur of children skylarking in the extensive green playing fields at lunchtime, especially during that hot summer of 1976, was a familiar sound; almost comforting in nature. Knowing that school was just around the corner, put parents minds at rest, allowing us to walk home for lunch, or freshly made sandwiches to be passed over the fence at midday. Mothers often gossiped together as they walked their brood to school, passing the time of day. Sat in their front gardens with a cup of tea in hand, while hanging out the washing or mowing the lawn, conversing with neighbours was part of the course. Fathers playing a game of football where 'No Ball Games' were allowed; familiar cries of 'dinner's ready, come inside' and all the time, doors unlocked, open to all. Inviting and welcoming, it was all part of the small neighbourhood  in which we lived, an unforgettable period of growth and curiosity.

Walking home with friends and neighbours, or waiting for Mum as she did her hours cleaning at the school, was a reminder of how lucky I was. I wasn't a 'latch key kid,' or left to fend for myself; importantly, Mother was always there. When she was at home, I could see her in the kitchen as I skipped up the meandering path towards number six, waving vigorously, beaming smile on her face. Steam would drift out of the opening at the top of the window, as Mum drained the vegetables for dinner. Once again, always ajar, I would gently push the door, running inside. Dropping my coat and bag in the hallway, darting immediately left, home cooked meals would always be on the table; piping hot, aromatic, hearty and nutritious, they always smelt great and tasted even better.

After dinner, I was allowed to play outside, just for an hour or two. Most of the children who lived in the block were of the same age and attended school together, so playing in the early evening was just part of our day. From the front garden, I would ride my bicycle up and down the pavement outside the flat, around the washing lines and down to the boundary of the school. Feeling venturous, I would often navigate the short distance to the open fields or along the side of the flats, picking blackberries from the bushes. When the street lights began to dim, you could hear Mothers and Fathers calling from the steps of their front door, all of us duly running home.

My childhood, at Nashe House, was not unlike any other of the 70s. Life was far more relaxed back then, there was less traffic on the roads and the streets felt safer. Neighbours were friendlier and happy to communicate. We were well looked after by parents, but also by the community in which we lived. I often reminisce about my early years spent in Fareham, a place I no longer know. As I get older I reflect on the most contented and optimistic days, spent with those closest at a time of innocence and simplicity. I am indeed a product of the 70s, but I am also a small town boy from Fareham, my childhood home, born at a time of upheaval, hope for the future, with my whole life ahead. Things never turned out the way I would have wished, but I have never forgotten my roots and will always be thankful for the auspicious start I had in life!

Picture
Picture
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    51-year-old Author and professional blogger. Expat formerly living in Gran Alacant on the Costa Blanca! Currently, residing in my adopted home of Perth, Western Australia.

    Picture

      Contact Luke.

    Submit
    Picture
    Click me & email for more information!
    Picture
    Picture

    Categories

    All
    Asia-2019
    Australia
    Australia 2022/23
    Bettys-revenge
    Bipolar
    Bipolarcoaster
    Britain
    Bullying
    Business
    Cancer Research
    Cats
    Characters-i-have-known
    Charity
    Charlatan-or-confidant
    Christmas Thoughts
    Claybornes World
    Coming-out-stories
    Cooking
    Coronavirus
    Croatia 2022
    Current Affairs Politics
    Darrell In The Uk
    Death Of Queen Elizabeth
    Dunbars
    Easy Horse Care
    Events
    Events That Shaped My World
    Family
    Fascinating Facts
    Friends & Colleagues
    Gran Alacant
    Guest Bloggers
    Ibs
    Immigration
    Information
    Inspirational People
    Interviews
    Japan And Thailand 2020
    Jersey-2019
    Lifestyle Break
    Lockdown-life-in-photos
    London 2022
    Lounge-d
    Luke-martin-jones-awards
    Marmite Watch
    Memories Of Fareham
    Memories-of-home
    Memories-of-southampton
    Memories Of Spain
    Me-too-oxfam
    Milestones
    Moving
    My Life
    My Writing
    Non Touch Toast
    Oxfam Sociopathy
    Penelope Wren
    Photographs-of-hope
    Pippa
    Platinum Jubilee
    Quotes
    Rabs-world
    Remembering Gran Alacant
    Reviewing Gran Alacant
    Santa-pola
    Self-isolation
    Shopping
    Short Stories From My Youth
    Southampton
    Spiritual
    Teaching Jamie
    Thailand 2022
    The-darkness
    The-streets
    The Two Of Us
    Travel
    Verruca-almond
    Villa In The Sun
    Visits From Friends
    War In Europe
    Weight Loss & Health
    Year In Review 2015
    Year In Review 2016
    Year In Review 2017
    Year In Review 2018
    Year In Review 2019
    Year In Review 2020
    Year In Review 2021
    Year In Review 2022
    Zest

    Archives

    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    June 2022
    May 2022
    April 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015

    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Tweets by realtruthblog
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture


    Instagram
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    Picture
    A place to call home
    Finally, a place we can call home.  A community of like minded individuals, who used to call Britain home.  Now Spain is our choice, an altogether gentler, happier, sunnier and safer experience!
            Luke Feb 16
    Picture
Picture
Picture

Telephone

+447999663360

Email

lukemartin.jones@gmail.com
  • Blog
  • The Story Of Us
  • Other Blogs
    • Forever Enduring Cycles Blog 2015 >
      • Forever Enduring Cycles
      • Bipolarcoaster
      • Books For Sale
  • Gallery
  • Spain
    • First Month
    • Three Months
    • Six Months
    • One Year
    • 2 Year Anniversary
    • Spanish Views
    • Gran Alacant >
      • GA Advertiser
      • Gran Alacant News
      • LoungeD
      • No Wives Club
  • About
    • New Life
    • Wedding
    • 21 Years
    • Timeline
    • My Story
    • Australia 2016/17
  • Guest Bloggers
    • Penelope Wren
    • Debra Rufini
    • Claire Coe
    • Richard Guy
    • Optimistic Mummy
    • Julie Rawlinson
    • Letters Of Hope
  • Links
  • Contact
  • My Writing
    • Short Stories From My Youth
    • Verruca Almond
    • The Streets