Today I am going to conclude this topic for a while. It is something I will get back to as there is alot to discover.
Today I will be sharing my own personal Mandela Effects if you can call it that, as the Mandela effect is where a group of people have supposedly misremembered certain things.
I have had more than one memory although I think the first one was an actual memory I misremembered due to what I did with the information.
So let me begin:
The first memory is when I went back to a place I used to live and found the man with his small dog to whom I used to speak. I discovered that his little dog was not a dachshund as I had thought but a different small dog. After thinking long and hard about it, I remembered it as a dachshund because I used the man and his dog in my novel. I needed to change his dog into a dachshund to make a lead in my story.
The second potentially false memory I have remains a mystery to me. In 2015 I visited my mother in Wales and had caught the train from London Heathrow. I needed to stay with my sister in London on my way home to get the plane back to New Zealand the next morning. My sister wasn’t around to meet me at Euston Station, so she suggested I get an underground to St Pancras and walk to her place from the back entrance. It was a twenty-minute walk, and I remember walking past a police station on my way there. My son had also told me to do this walk as he had done it when he had visited London.
I loved St Pancras better than Euston as at Euston underground there are many steps to climb, and if you have a heavy suitcase, this is not good. So when visiting every year since, I have decided to get a tube to St Pancras and walk to Euston where I would get a train to the airport. It was much better than climbing the stairs as I could roll my case along for the five or ten-minute walk it took.
Anyway, just over a year ago I went to Wales again to visit my mother. My sister wanted to meet me at the station before I got the plane to Australia so I said, “It is okay, I can walk up to your place to meet you from St Pancras as it is only a twenty-minute walk.”
My sister said it was a fifteen-minute drive away from where she lived. Confused, I looked it up on google maps, and sure enough, it said the walk would take one hour and forty-eight minutes. I later asked my son if he’d ever walked to the station from my sister’s house and he said no, it would take me too long.
If I ever go back to London, I want to go from the back of St Pancras station and try the walk again for myself to see if it takes twenty minutes.
Have any of you had a strange memory like this? If so, please write in the comments.
