My Eight-Year-Old Travel Diary

Silver holograms cascade into circular patterns. The swirls catch the light and project rainbows over the covers of my childhood travel diary. It’s slightly dog-eared after more than twenty years of following me between houses, cities and countries. Recently, I’ve pulled out my diary and discovered some intriguing eight-year-old thoughts. The diary spanned the length of one family trip from the North Island of New Zealand to the South Island. I carefully used a different colour of ink on each page with the help of my trusty Wiggle Writer pen.

Travel Diary

Holograms from the nineties

In the last decade I have put my studies behind me and focused on my career. Now I’ve got more time for writing. When I told Mum I was attending travel writing courses and creating a travel blog she was a little nonplussed. I was quite shocked that she found my behaviour so predictable. It was when I re-discovered my travel diary from childhood during spring cleaning that the penny started to drop. I found evidence that from as early as eight years old, I was able to combine two passions: travel and writing. Mum knew all along.

Ah the memories, it seems I've been keeping travel diaries from age eight!

Ah the memories, it seems I’ve been keeping travel diaries from age eight!

I was going through a “Dear Travel Diary” phase where I always ended with “but that’s another story.” It’s a bit of a clichéd ending but a solid effort for my younger self. The things I wrote about in the diary weren’t surprising. A highlight was visiting Dunedin’s Cadbury Chocolate Factory. I’ve always had a sweet-tooth. Here’s an excerpt from the diary:

The Chocolate Factory story

The Chocolate Factory story

“Tuesday we went to the Chocolate Factory and got two baby Easter eggs and a mini crunchie bar, but that was only us kids. We got to press a button and a little chocolate land came to life. When Dad came out <of the factory tour> he was holding a bag with some chocolates in and some were for Christmas but that’s another story.”

Finding this diary reminded me that I’ve been on this journey for longer than I can remember and my Mum continues to support me. But that’s another story.

 

 

 

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