remembering

In Sydney back in the 60s, the last thirteen seconds (starting at 0:49) of this clip used to play on the kitchen radio at 7:45am. To most people, it signaled that the news was about to begin. But for us, its clarion call meant just one thing: it was time to leave for school.

Bus fare? Check. Handkerchief? Check. Brown bag lunch? Check.
I was not yet five when I joined my elder sister and brother in this weekday routine. “Quarter to eight! Time to go!”

schoolbag
Source

Dressed in our formal school uniforms and polished leather shoes, we’d pick up our little brown school cases, just like the above, and trudge up the hill to the bus stop. There was a busy road at the top of our street, and a neighbour near the corner would help us cross it. Then we’d catch the first of two buses (one cost 5c, the other 3c) which would deliver us to St. Mary’s, Star of the Sea.

hashi8

I only have to hear a bar and I’m back there.

Is there a sound, or sight, or smell that instantly transports you back to your childhood?

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