Although a Royal residence for only 150 years, Sandringham abounds in history. It has seen the deaths of two monarchs; suffered its share of wartime tragedy; and been the venue for the first ever Christmas Broadcast by the svereign.

The story began in 1862. Prince Albert, husband of Queen Victoria, was looking for a country home for his eldest son, Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, before his twentieth birthday. The idea was to find a healthy retreat for his young son, away from the distractions of the city.

Before a decision had been reached, the Prince Consort died suddenly of typhoid in December 1861. It was left up to his eldest son to conclude the house-hunt. After paying a visit to Sandringham on 3 February 1862, the Prince of Wales was impressed enough to have decided by the end of the day that he wanted to buy the house. For the house and furnishings, the Prince paid £220,000.

............... and the Queens estate was MY home for 2 weeks! 

Sandringham's first role was as a home for newly-weds. Prince Albert Edward married Princess Alexandra of Denmark on 10 March 1863, and they travelled to Norfolk 18 days later.

It soon became obvious that the existing house was not suitable for large social gatherings and a growing family, so the Prince of Wales rebuilt it completely.

........... but the estate was still big enough for me to live for 2 weeks! 

The First World War sowed death and destruction even in sleepy Sandringham. On 19 January 1915 Zeppelin L45 crossed the North Sea on the first raid of the war, and several bombs landed on and around the Royal estate. One of the craters filled with water; King George VI later had it enlarged and turned into a duck pond.

Such imagination was the heart of the Sandringham estate.............. MY HOME for 2 weeks.

Oh, by the way, did I mention that I was camping in a tent on the estate. No fancy house to live in, just a tent. No majestic ornamentations except the majestic wonder of living within the creation not of a king or Queen, but the one known to many as the King of Kings, living under the stars at night, cooking in the rain through day.

I was in the Scouts, and the Norfolk international Jamboree, which was what I was attending, was camped in the grounds. But then, did I not say that imagination was at the heart of the Sandringham estate, and here was my imagination.

---------------------------------------------------------

One more thing. This was the true story of my adventure of imagination in a new environment. Now, how about taking a look at another young persons adventure in a new environment. My daughter is beginning her adventure in Connecticut, why not visit her blog at

http://open.salon.com/blog/laineydee

PS, I never warned her that whilst in America you will all be celebrating getting rid of the British on the 4th July. Do be gentle with her now.

For those who wish to read more of my writings, the details of my book can be seen in the link to the left. See the cover design below.