Last month I visited my old high school to attend the annual reunion. This was the first time I’d been to a formal alumni event, only 46 years after I left.

That’s not to say I haven’t kept in contact with my school mates, despite living on the other side of the world. Among the Class of ’79 who had turned up, I’d seen all but one of them in the past couple of years, and I try to catch up with this group each time I go back to the UK.

Despite the passing years, I was surprised by how much the old place felt so familiar – I guess having more than 450 years of history behind it means that tradition runs deep.

At the same time, it also felt quite alien – I realise that although I am originally from the local area, I feel less and less of it. Nevertheless, I was reassured that however much things may change, my immediate circle of school friends endures.