I was only eight years old when my grandfather gave me a set of books about history. They covered lots of different moments in ancient times. I remember one was all about Egypt, another concentrated on Greece, another focused on the Incas and the final one was all about America.

I devoured them. I was totally captivated by the stories of people who had lived so long ago, and whose lives were in many ways so different from ours and in other ways exactly the same.

Those books made me realise that though history is about big world events and politics, it’s also about the ordinary lives of ordinary people. It’s about personal history, in other words.

Reading the books sparked a major love of history in me, and now I’m thinking of studying it at university.

Maybe in time I’ll follow in my grandfather’s footsteps and teach history, who knows? But being interested in history has been hugely enriching in my life – and studying it brings back so many memories of my grandfather.

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