27 Bedford Crescent

I lived in the house on the left full-time from 1939 to 1959 and intermittently for the following four years. My parents spent their last years there. It doesn’t look too very different, apart from the satellite dish(es) and the strangely discolored wall on the side. Any balancing skills I have were honed on the crenellated top of that wall. Of course there were not so many cars back then, and you would have seen roses peeping up above the wall. I remember the gate as being wooden, not metal. That round window? Brian’s bedroom, otherwise known as “the boxroom”.

On the whole the street has held up well. Enfield was our first stop after my brother picked us up at Heathrow. I wanted to show Lucy where I grew up, and Brian took us on a nostalgic trip around town. Here we are standing outside number 27. We pooled our memories and noted the changes together.

The house doesn't look much older. And nor do we.