Strange fact number 5 (which happens to be quote related zomgnowai!). I cannot remember the first time I went to Spain. At all.

It’s like there’s a hole in my memory. There are photographs, my sister and mother and father all remember it and occasionally try to trigger my memory by mentioning what I did, where I visited, and the rum and raisin ice-cream I was so taken with, but try as I might I honestly cannot remember anything. The only thing I vaguely remember is flying over the Alps, but I’ve done that so many times I’m not even sure if I’m mixing up memories there as well.

It’s true we only went for about four days, and I know you naturally forget some memories over time, or end up remembering them differently because of what you ‘think’ you recall, but it is really quite disconcerting to have a complete blank spot in what was obviously quite an eventful period.