A couple weeks ago, I was reading through some of my travel journals from when I was young and I stumbled across some down-right poetic entries. They are so vivid and engaging that I thought it would be lovely to share some of these bursts of creative wisdom with you lovely people.
So here is the first extract which I would like to share with you all, a fascinating entry from my travel journal when I was eight years old. I’ve even left the original spelling, for your reading pleasure.
In Rome it was boiling hot. I felt like a rosted chicken.
We saw heps of Roman Ruins. They were realy ruined.
I drank in every fontain in sight. I got soaked by in 2 minutes I was dray again. The ice-cream was brilliant.