My father’s name is Wellwood Caldwell Armstrong, born 17 May 1921. I always wanted to visit the land, where he was born and raised. That would be Scotland. I wanted to meet his family as I never had the opportunity before. I suppose it is also because he died when I was 6 years old and so I had not had the benefit of knowing his family either by his word or by personally meeting them. Till now I fully accepted that I would probably not meet them because first of all I was scared of flying and travelling; I didn’t like the unknown; also I had a good excuse: we didn’t have the money, my husband, Derek, wasn’t interested, we had children to raise and a business to run.
Well on one unsuspecting day Derek announced that it was the perfect time to go visit my family. I was both excited and afraid. Like a rug my excuse had been pulled out from under me and I was being offered what I had always dreamed of. I wrote letters to Uncle Ian, Aunt Marion and Aunt Joy; and to my cousin Sheila. Within a month my travel plan took shape; or at least I had a bucket list of people and places I wanted to visit. If you know me, I’m a very curious person and want to know everything about everything so with gusto I went about finding out all the interesting things which we might want to see. What ensues as a body of writing are a blending of my journalled entries and imagined conversations with my father.