I can only vaguely remember a few of the places as a child - we moved around a fair bit as my dad worked in the oil industry, but from around 5...
Torphichen (where I learned to ride a bike)
Little Chalfont (lovely, big fields, down the road from Ozzy Osbourne)
Craigleith (first 'girlfriend', first cigarette, first hangover, first illegal endeavours)
Santa Monica (a continuation of the above whilst learning to surf)
Glendale (as above, but with less surfing and more mountain biking, resulting in a spectacular arm break, successfully scraped through high school)
Chicago (further adventures in arm breaking, after a foolish encounter with a goose...)
Bougival (for a few months before I came back to the UK for college, much drunken activity with my uncle and a brief stint in a french rap group who were impressed by my Angelino credentials)
Cruddas Park (now renamed Riverside Dene in a vain effort to mask the awfulness of the place, we called Friday "Hammers on Chains Night", got the worst and most justified hiding of my life here and not really fancied fighting since)
Dunston (a step up from the mean streets of Cruddas, but not a big one, lived with my girlfriend which was a disaster)
Fenham (with a proper band of miscreants, furthering the disaster)
Heaton (an escape from the disaster, bit of a further one with a volatile housemate)
Wallsend (much less disastrous with a kick ass lady wife and a nice house that we've worked on together, along with a family of cats and with a bambino on the way)
We will probably move at some point, but I doubt I'll be leading as much of a nomadic/chaotic lifestyle. Been there, done it and sold the t-shirt.