For me the first memories are smells and textures. The smell of a magazine, the feel of the mosquito net. The fibre in the paster wall. At some time wall-paper was put on the wall, and Disney-like characters appeared. Later in formal shirt and shorts I appear in a photo waiting quayside for a flying Sunderland to New Zealand. And remembering the smell of the vomit-bags, to which in 1950 I had frequent recourse. A ten hour flight to Auckland, the plumes flung wide on takeoff and landing.
Then there is a musical,later, quite a lot later, when my mother under deep-ray treatment left me with an aunt, and we saw Annie Get your Gun, live, on stage. I think I had already seen the movie, so maybe I was 6 then. That's it, not many. The smell I cannot forget however. There are photos of me at 1 2 3 of which I have no memory at all, of course, so nothing before 3 except conceivably the mosquito net.