You know when they say your life appears before your eyes, and it’s usually mentioned at the same time as dying and death? I had so many flashbacks on holiday I was convinced we weren’t going to make it home. Everything brought back some memory from somewhere. We’d be driving down a sunny road and I’d be transformed back to Australia.

We’d drive somewhere else and a song would come on the radio, and immediately I was back in the mid-1970’s and re-living whatever happened then.

It was odd. It was like I was wiping my old memories with new ones.

When we got to Lyme Regis (which we went to around 1980ish) the flashback of falling from The Cob into the sea reared it’s head (I didn’t, I just feared I would), so again I refused to walk on it. But I remembered trampolines near the sea – or maybe that was a flashback to North Wales in the mid 70’s again.

It didn’t happen once or twice either – it was several times a day, every day.

It was weird, everything came back on those few days. I’m still alive. My life reappeared before my eyes over several days, and nothing happened. I’m still here, we all are.

We got home and it stopped too. I kind of want to go back on holiday again to make it come back again – it was strangely reassuring, like my memories were looking after me.

Happy H at Stonehenge