Mistakenly sure that nothing has changed since my childhood.

I did exactly the same thing gmelon I went back to a seaside town where I grew up and was so disappointed. The place was dirty, lots of tacky shops and generally seemed run down.
I wish I had not gone and kept my happy memories as just that.

I had Avery, very happy childhood in the Welsh valleys. Surrounded by aunties, cousins and 2 Grandmas. I can remember every one in our street. The names and faces of my friends. Their houses and parents. The games we layer, where we went. My school and all the teachers.
When I was 10, and had passed the 11+ and was poised to go to Grammer School we moved 250 miles away. I never forgot that childhood. I have been back many times and seen the decline of those wonderful villages. The places and people I knew live in my heart.

As a child, I had two 'aunties' who were not my aunties at all iyswim

I can see their house in my minds eye and can even feel the cosy bed with a real feather mattress that I would sleep in when I stayed overnight with them - this was always after Brownies and then Guides

Lovely memories

I lived in a town in the north until I was 8 - to me that is still my home despite moving to two different towns in subsequent years. My childhood home has long been demolished as has my school and the whole town has changed but there are still roads and houses that I remember. When we go back occasionally to the cemetery and to visit relatives I still have to go round all the areas I knew - my grandparents house is still there as is the house my mother grew up in and a much loved aunt's house. My husband is very good at driving round them all. If we go back to the seaside town we both moved to as children and met in we do the same but it doesn't have the same impact for me - it also looks all tacky and doesn't make me want to move back there as it does him.

I lived for much of my adult life in the town where I was born. I saw all the changes, some I was rather sad about. The house in which my mother was born, the one next door, and the garage/filling station were all demolished to make way for a Co-op store. I can still picture my Nana making apple pies in her kitchen even though the kitchen is long gone. I had a really happy childhood, all my memories are filled with aunts, uncles and cousins and happy times shared together.

A couple of years ago I went back to show my daughter where I grew up. The house had been pulled down shortly after we had moved about 35 years ago. The land was so overgrown and gone back to nature we weren't able to find where the actual house had stood. It was not a happy place growing up, there was always an odd darkness and old odd, vague stories of things long past. We had rented a car, it was a new one and during that week never had a problem with it, but when we got back in it wouldn't start, battery would hardly turn over, it took several minutes before eventually it choked back into life. We sat in silence for a while, OH was annoyed then my daughter turned to me and commented that she thought something there hadn't wanted me to leave, it was trying to keep me there. I had been thinking the very same thing myself. I had felt the same heavy darkness as we'd tripped and stumbled over the muddy ground and much as I wanted to find some familiar landmarks like the old oak tree and the apple trees, something was telling to get away.
I had the same thing with neighbours being called aunty, you always knew you could knock on someone's door for help if needed. I've lived in this present house for 15 years and never seen the the neighbour to the left. I know she's there, I've seen a blonde head bobbing in the garden from time to time, but wouldn't recognise her if I saw her in the street. Other neighbours moved in a couple of years ago, same thing. Everyone keeps themselves to themselves

I go to the town where I grew up every week and swear they moved roads while I wasn't looking.

Apart from that, where my grandparents had a hotel is now a road I use to get to the dgc's house. DGS and I went to see all the places I knew as a child. All the houses were smaller than I remembered but my grammar school is now enormous.

It's sixty years since I left my home town. It was a wonderful environment to grow up in and I was lucky to have seventeen years and all my schooling there. We were about five minutes from the beach where I used to walk the dog and where I learnt to swim. I've driven through the town a couple of times. I was pleased to see the old family home looking beautifully maintained but the town has changed beyond recognition - many shops have closed, the harbour is little used and a marina has been established. It's now little more than a dormitory for people working in Glasgow. But often in my dreams I am back in the big bungalow where I was born with my sisters and my long-dead parents. I still think of that Ayrshire town as home.

Yes, always a mistake, going back, although it’s 20 years since I did, it was nothing like the place I remember from being a teenager ( when I left.) Probably even more dispiriting now than then!
Having ( for scenes) almost a photographic memory I can take myself on a mental journey and see everything and everyone ( all long dead) just as it was, which is likely the best way to remember and see it.