Dusty Wentworth

I woke to the sound of the alarm. Through my half-closed eyes I could just about make out 06:30 glowing on the clock. Bloody rude, I thought — it’s the school holidays! But reality bites: these days, it can take me as long to get from bed into my wheelchair as it once took me to shower, dress, and be ready to leave the house. I need a head start on life now. Breakfast was the usual 14 tablets washed down with fresh coffee. Then another coffee. And another. Look, one helps me wake up and the other is just because I love coffee, alright? Don’t judge me. By 8am the car was loaded: wheelchair, pushchair, cool bags, three children, and two emotionally drained adults just trying to survive the summer holidays. Destination: Africa Alive in Kessingland, Suffolk. Now, as a Norfolk lad, any foray into Suffolk has to be treated as a covert operation. Football fans will understand — it’s not just about Norwich City (the mighty Canaries) versus Ipswich Town (the Tractor Boys). The rival...

It began with the kind of start no military operation would envy: late, chaotic, and entirely fuelled by caffeine and the frantic shouts of, “WHERE ARE YOUR SHOES?” We had planned for an early departure—visions of logistical precision and serene travel floated in our heads the night before. In reality, we woke up late. Groggy, uncoordinated, and amid a flurry of clothing-based crises, we somehow managed to rally the family troops and were on the road to Norwich by 09:30. Honestly, that alone deserves applause—or at the very least, a strong coffee. Despite the delayed launch, the journey into the city was blissfully uneventful. I say blissfully because Norfolk currently resembles a testing ground for every roadworks crew in the UK. I swear half the county is dug up. Entire towns seem to be held together by traffic cones and sheer optimism. But we navigated the trenches and reached Norwich—a minor miracle in itself. Operation: Replace What They’ve Outgrown As all parents know...