Where I grew up, there was an enormous Horse Chestnut tree on the front lawn.
Every fall my friends and I would race home from school to run about collecting as many 'conkers' from the ground as we could!
Always mindful not to hurt our young fingers on the chestnut's prickly green pod cover.
I wonder today at it being so much fun; the friendly competition of it all I suppose.
Within a week, the once beautiful, shiny-smooth and swirly-patterned brown chestnuts lost their lustre, and with it their appeal.
Next fall, we did it all over again 
Would you rather stay your current age or swap the digits around?
New series of *This city is ours* on iPlayer now
