East Yorkshire in the 1960s and 70s was a magical place to grow up.

Our parents would encourage us to load our bicycle saddle bags and baskets with sandwiches, apiece of fruit and a can of pop, and head either to the beach or into the gently rolling and verdant countryside.

Every day seemed to be a glorious sunny occasion. My companions were as happy and excited as I was to be out in the fresh air, expanding our knowledge of Wold gate and the wider Wolds, while admiring the flora, fauna and wildlife that gave it the colours and characteristics we loved so much.

Time passes. I have not escaped the ravages of the subsequent years and neither have my companions. Some of them are no longer with us, but the memories of those summer days areas alive and vibrant as the days we spent embracing them.

Enter David Hockney, an artist I had admired but wouldn’t call myself a fan. That all changed one day in 2012 when, drawn by the subject matter, my partner and I attended his ‘A Bigger Picture’ exhibition at London’s Burlington House.

The many rooms featured vivid, large-scale paintings depicting the East Yorkshire landscapes I had explored and loved as a young boy.

The exhibition included a display of iPad drawings and a series of films utilising18 cameras, which were displayed on multiple screens.

It was as though the artist had tapped into my very soul. Although exaggerated, the landscapes Hockney captured were instantly recognisable as the playgrounds myself and my friends knew so well.

It was overwhelming. I stared at one particular picture of a place we knew as ‘Dick Turpin’s Bridge’ and burst into tears – tears for a lost golden era and friends now departed.