A Yorkshire Gal I Shall Always Be

There's always something nostalgic about going back to Bradford and seeing familiar roads, faces and places. Weird thing is I'm not really sure why as I didn't really much like Bradford but it seems to have grown on me as I have moved away. I wouldn't like to live there again but I always like to go back and visit from time to time and tell Adam about the places I grew up and the schools that I went to - a tale I'm sure I've told him very often.

Last weekend Adam and I (and a friend) went to go pick up our new car from Burnley and because we hadn't been to the place before we put it in the satnav and went on our way. After a little while I realised that we were going towards Skipton in North Yorkshire and A roads that looked like motorways started to turn into A roads that looked like country dual carriageways and then they turned into B roads winding and swerving through the amazingly beautiful countryside of Yorkshire. Adam proclaimed that he could never live in such a place as he is a city boy and likes everything to be around him but I suppose that's where we differ.

A Yorkshire gal I shall always be who smiles at the greenery and ponders of the days when I used to run around in the fields and walked up the hillsides. I remember how the suns rays shone down on the moors from my bedroom window and changed the grass from green to yellow to gold. I think in lots of ways Adam and I are a perfect match, not only because we have strong accents but also because we come from places that you'll never forget as you grow older. Even though I live up North - which is even further up North than where I actually come from I will still love to go down memory lane whenever I visit family and friends. I wouldn't say school or childhood was particularly wonderful in Bradford but I gladly push those pathetic memories aside and remember the happier days.

The reason for this sweet simmering praise of Bradford is because today Adam and I dropped my sister and her daughter, Amelia down at my mum's house and even though I wasn't going home it felt like I was. I went into the house that I grew up in for at least 11-12 years (which was a long time in one house for us) and I felt incredibly at home. I guess you always do feel like that when you go to a place that you grew up in. The only weird thing was that now my mum's children have children and we're all growing up and growing away, which has a sweet sadness to it.

One thing I shall have to remember though for when travelling down to my mum's house and taking my daughter with us is that you always need bigger boot space that you actually have and you always need to bring twice as much for the baby than you do for yourself.

Do you think this would have big enough boot space?