It was the smell of the well-worn wooden floor of the hall coupled with the sublime scent of a festive turkey dinner emanating from the kitchen. One breath in, one breath out, and I was home.

No, dear readers, I did not find myself last Friday beside the warm hearth of some country estate, nor was I nestled in the comfort of some traditional Edwardian watering hole musing over the delight of the season to come.

The reason this time for my Cheshire Cat grin of nostalgic contentment was in fact that I was visiting one of our region’s many fantastic primary schools.

Though Sproglet is only three, as other parents will know, the time has come to prospect the locale for the next phase of her education. This being the case, her mother and I arranged a day last week to take a tour of some of our area’s shining lights in shaping the little ‘uns, and it was both incredibly enjoyable and exuberantly enlightening.

Little Miss’s mum is a teacher herself, and therefore was coming into said tour far more armed between the ears than your average bear.

For yours truly, my last experience of a........

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