My grandfather on my dad's side was an ex-Jewish german (we got a surname title and to get that, it was either keep the faith and be poor and unknown or ditch the faith and be rich and powerful, so they were early pioneers for **** faith, we like money) so one morning in Berlin in early 1939, he pretended he was getting up and going to work but instead ran away to England. Where when war broke out he was imprisoned on the Isle of Man as an enemy alien. He said it was some of the best years of his life, because it was all intellectuals and musicians, and they had great concerts every night and huge debates etc.
His wife was from Argentina, born of creepy Christian converters and bombed by the germans the first time her and her parents tried to leave. But that was in a very civilised "Its the first world war" way, so they got everyone off the boat onto their boat, sunk their ship and then took them all back to Buenos Aires where she lived for a lot longer.
They then moved to Luxembourg post-war and that's where my dad grew up. He does finance stuff. I love him but his work bores me.
My mum's parents are Scottish and ***brian (so far up North is sort of merges) and that's where she was born. My grandfather spent the war in Ethiopia and I have an invite framed from when Haile Sellassie invited him over for dinner. When my mum was very wee, they emigrated to Canada because they were too poor here, but in Canada everyone was rude to them because they were English, so eventually they got too poor to stay there and had to come back here. My mum designed textiles and sold textiles in Japan. Then after a while she swapped to theatre wardrobe, and that's what she does now.
Both my parents are ace.