Through a geographic accident of birth, I have Dutch godparents. My family renewed contact with them when I was ten years old. It was quite an experience, in 1974, travelling from a council estate in Derry to Dutch suburbia.
Back then, Derry was not exactly a bed of primroses. The estate we lived on was relatively non-sectarian, but life was a litany of broken glass, bombings, shootings, army checkpoints and the random physical abuse one endures...
Subscribe from just €1 for the first month!
All Digital Access + eReader
Unlimited Access for 1 Month
Then €19.99 a month after the offer period.
€149 For the 1st Year
Unlimited Access for 1 Year
90 Day Pass
Get a Business Account for you and your team