I grew up, well was raised, in England in the North of London. Even then I had a fashion sense and liked to look my best. My brother Mugwump saw clothes more as something to soak up the blood and dirt from scrapes and contact sports.
Visiting day at big brother’s boarding-school – there was no way I wanted to go to one of those – they didn’t let you take your mum with you!
This was my first day in Canada, July 1967. Landed in Montreal waiting for the train to Winnipeg. Ah, the sartorial elegance!
Six years of Canadian life and winters and look what it did to me
I should really have cropped out the socks. Remember we were camping and hiking in the Rockies.
Today – 49 years after arriving in Canada and the old croc still has nearly all his own teeth
Filed under: Canada, England, Reflections on life Tagged: Canada, England, humour, London, photography, reflections
