Alan mentioned Crane Park today and immediately my thoughts went back to our early courting years. From when we met (me, 13 and you, 16) until you got your licence and passed your motorbike test, we often used Crane Park as our courting hub. I remember the summer evenings when we would dodge closing time and sit in the hollow of one of the hills until we saw the park keeper ride by on his bicycle locking up all the gates at 6pm. Once he had passed us we knew we could wander around as we pleased and often it would get dark and we hadn't even realised. You always carried that big Bush radio around with Radio Luxemburg playing, and we never stopped talking about one thing or another.... then to beat my Dad's curfew time for me, we would have to get over whatever set of entrance gates we were closest to which was no mean feat for me. OK the gates were only about 6ft high but with me in a hooped skirt and high heels, climbing wrought iron gates wasn't easy. I remember you used to go over first, put your radio down then 'help' me get my feet into the right place in the loops of the pattern of the gate, and once I sat precariously on the top, you would lift me down! How we never got caught or injured is beyond me! If we came over the gates at the top of Powder Mill Lane and we were early enough, we would pop into Grants fish and chip shop and grab pie and chips and eat on the way home... I had forgotten all this and suddenly it is as if it was just yesterday....