I am fascinated by nostalgia. As CS Lewis wrote in his book The Weight of Glory, a person managing to travel back to a time long ago, whose memory was very sweet, “would not have found the thing itself, but only the reminder of it.” In German the word ‘sehnsucht’ sums up this sense of inconsolable longing. He suggests there is something rather deep and spiritual about this kind of desire. Well, it was this that I had in my mind as I wrote about two trips to London with my mum and my sister, many decades apart. Rather than soothing the longing, we instead create another memory which seems to feed nostalgia further. And yet the longing itself is something we crave.

Remember when you took us to Harrods when I was small?
I thought you said Halfords - I was so disappointed.
It's big, big shop, you said - 
oh dear, lots of lawnmowers...

We went again last year to remember, to recapture the childhood joy.
I wanted to buy a bag of marbles again
for old time's sake -
a mesh bag full of milky-white ones, sparkly coloured glass ones
and clear ones with the swirl of colour through the middle.

I want to get back to how it was

But I could not find the magic I remembered.
The toy department had all the latest gadgets,
all the newest wants,
but no marbles at all.

Remember how we went back to look for marbles and it was all different?

You cannot go back
You cannot go back
You cannot go back

And still I would