I could hardly believe it. Suddenly stricken with a craving for nostalgia and childhood memories I had decided to take a tour around the land of my birth. Driving around the village of my childhood I remembered one of the local children’s favourite pastimes. There was a steep hill out of the village with at the bottom a shallow ford where a small stream crossed the road forming a pool, one foot deep at the most. We all used to career down the hill on our pushbikes and with loud cries of delight hold our shorts-clad legs in the air as the water sprayed from beneath our wheels as we crossed. It was great fun especially when someone had the misfortune to fall off. Probably due to the large pebbles we had hidden in the pool. Sadly, now the stream has gone and the children no longer have the pleasure.
When the pen takes control. 
My thanks for the memory. I remember that game, though it wasn’t at this ford. Most likely my father played the game at this ford. It’s near to where he grew up. 🙂
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