Who the bloody hell is Frank, and why is he in East Africa?
He’s my granddad and that’s where he was stationed in WWII.
Where he met my St. Helenian grandmother, and, well, long story short, that’s how I got to be here!
So you see, travel is in the blood!
Of what I do remember of him, and from the old VHS footage, he loved to talk about his car (and how the journey was to his place) and even more so, he loved bikes – ah life on the open road!
So I’ve no doubt he would approve of the project!
We’ve all got grandparents, that’s grand, but how does that relate to Wander Inn?
Well, he funded the project!
Not intentionally of course, he died in the 90s, before I even had a driving license!
After a lifetime of working and saving, he left a bungalow behind (and a leather jacket, perfect for late winter and/or early spring) (and a guitar, with many broken strings, but lots of replacements! And I stabbed myself in the finger and bled on it changing a string, but I ramble… here’s a video of him singing, from a gramophone record)
…to his wife, (Nanny) Shirley.