A small collection of bullion coins
I remember that when I was a child I often visited an old collector of coins. The man lived in our neighbourhood, perhaps three or four houses away from ours. I used to play in the street a lot, especially when my parents were working in the garden. I took my bike or my rollerblades and played with some friends. Sometimes, when my parents were not looking, I would go further, out of their sight, although I was not supposed to do so. I turned right into a narrow lane and straight into a friend"s house. He was perhaps two or three years older than me. But I really wanted to see his father. He was the one who collected bullion coins. I loved it when he opened his coin albums and showed us his collection. He would often tell us about his travels to South Africa and India. Sometimes he gave me a coin or two. I suppose they were not really valuable. I used to collect them for several years, until we moved to another town or perhaps until the man died, I don"t remember which happened first. I got in touch with his son for some months and we even went fishing together sometimes, but then he was taken to an orphanage which was far away from my town. I no longer have the gold bullion, and to be honest, I must have lost them while playing or perhaps I gave the out to my cousins.