PASSPORT: 'We were deported from Morocco because we were holding German passports'
Your papers, please Date of Birth: 27/12/61 Place of Birth: Reading Occupation: Company Director
Sunday 18 January 1998
"My very first travel memory is of getting lost in the Venice Lido," says Aliza. "I was four years old and my father had fallen asleep. I'd wandered off alone, and trawled the streets for what seemed like an eternity. A kind, elderly lady found me and fed me ice-cream while we looked for my dad.
"Trips with my father had an uncanny habit of going wrong," she laughs. "We often used to go sailing on my dad's Hobie catamaran and end up stranded. One time off the coast of Kenya we couldn't get back inland and sat on the boat waiting until we got rescued ... a rather over-enthusiastic sailor, he was," she says of her father. Paternal pandemonium held steady on other occasions. "There was a trip to Morocco that ended in my dad and I being deported because we were told we needed visas ... it was something to do with the fact that we both held German passports. So off we went to Paris on the next flight, arriving in freezing March with a suitcase each of summer clothes. Still, we did end up in the Loire valley, which was fantastic."
One stamp in Reger's passport marks an end to a holiday that she'll never forget. "On my way home from New York, I fell asleep and woke up three hours later as the plane started to descend. We were making an emergency landing in Boston due to a fuel leakage problem. As we neared the ground, fire engines lined the runway. People were freaking out, and one guy on board had a heart attack. Although we were all OK in the end, the plane didn't leave until six hours later and flew to Dublin where the crew had to change. I finally got to London 24 hours after leaving. It was crazy."
"I have been lucky and have visited a lot of beautiful places. When I was younger my family used to go to Mustique for Christmas. One time, when I was 15, I really didn't want to go home. We were at the airport and I started praying for something to happen so we could stay. Suddenly, the heavens opened and there was an almighty storm. BA cancelled the flight and we couldn't get another one home for a week - I was so happy.
"My honeymoon in 1991 was also idyllic," enthuses Aliza. "A friend gave me the key to her villa in St Tropez as a wedding gift and said we could stay as long as we liked. It was up in the hills, so tranquil, but with all the razzmatazz of St Tropez nearby."
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