On Aerogrammes and Nostalgia
When looking back on life, a common refrain is the illusion of the ‘good old days’ and, in certain ways, it all seems somehow better.
It’s a fruitless if fun argument to have a younger generation along the lines of music and LPs versus MP3, although the truth as ever lies nearer in the middle. (i.e. they both are different)
This Easter, I’ve been reminded of the paper-thin aerogrammes that travellers many moons ago once relied on to stay in touch globally well before the era of instant messaging.
Have you a collection of aerogrammes that preserve a time of your life or even love? Can you find them, and if so, would you share what they say across the years?
Can one really be nostalgic for something which, although cheap, could take weeks to turn up in post restante in an Indian post office? Most definitely, yes!
One reason is that they last. You may have hung on to such letters for many years, while there’s a fat chance emails/texts etc., will be anywhere near as exciting or likely to survive.
Two, they could, although of course not always, be interesting. You might say something worthy of being read and recorded with two sides of that cold clear blue paper to handwrite upon carefully.
I’ve just been down to the basement to find all the aerogrammes I sent home on various global jaunts. After my mother died, I found she’s collected or hoarded, however you care to see it, the vast majority. (Sadly, my filing system was not as good as her’s and I’ve been unable yet to find them).
However, I did find this unfilled in this ‘drop a line’ joke (see picture) aerogramme from 1982, which may raise a smile. Thanks to journalist Lee Tulloch who raised the aerogramme issue in this blog.
If you have any excellent aerogramme memories, examples, or escapades, do let us know!
