Over 100 years ago, in 1918, my father was born in Dubrovnik.

His family moved to the UK when he was nine, he grew up there, flew a Spitfire in the RAF during WW2 - before marrying a German woman and settling down in small town Canada.

Today I visited his birthplace with my family. Though I don’t speak the language or have any real roots here, it feels somehow fulfilling.