Stepping back, I admired the red double-decker bus that was parked in my friend Mike's garden.
‘Scrubs up nicely!' I said.
Good job too, as my new hubby, Roger, then 23, Mike, 29, and the rest of our 11-strong gang were about to travel the world in it.
It was May 1970, and Roger and I had come up with the idea last year.
Together since age 17, we'd been itching to travel.
‘We could strip out a coach,' I'd suggested.
‘Or a double-decker bus!' Roger had grinned.
We'd put an ad in the paper looking
