Growing up, our luxuries came from the natural island itself – the sunshine on my back, the sea breeze blowing in my face, the fine sand on the beaches.

As the Calypsonian David Rudder eulogises in verse, I am ‘Trini to de Bone’. And it is a Trinidadian’s belief that your connection to the country of birth cannot be broken if you fulfil two main conditions – your navel-string (umbilical cord) is buried there and you have eaten cascadura, a small local catfish with tough scaly skin.

I treasure the memories and this place, where as a child I would still have time to make mischief with friends or playing cricket on the streets of my beloved Trinidad.