18 years old and many visits later, and the smell of pine trees and forests still makes me stop, take a breath and imagine myself back as a child, playing on the swings in Sandringham with Grannie and Lala, running to my Grandad when the big, scary lawnmower would come round. I remember sleeping on the floor of the caravan, in between Grannie and Grandad. Of course, I’m too big for that now, but what I wouldn’t do just for one more night.
Beautiful woods
