When one lives on an island, one rarely needs to travel to the mainland but we did take our little red ferry across this morning to see how the common folk were doing. They were fine by the way. They have a bakery after all and out island does not.
So fine were they that they decided once again to visit us in their hundreds, turning up in shifts. The first, about morning tea time were the grandparents with their small charges heading straight to the playgrounds and pools. Later, but before lunch came the couples bent on spending something more than the two-Euros-thirty drink that comes free with every three Euro ferry ticket. By mid afternoon the youth brigade arrived to take off most of their clothes and bomb dive and have water fights in the river while people of their parents’ age sit under trees just pretending the island is theirs.
It’s not though, it’s ours. They go home before dinner time and we are left almost alone once again to survey our domain under a cloak of silence. “Almost” alone because another boat is staying tonight and while we quite like the couple it brought, “almost” alone is not the same as being “completely” alone. Now that the spell is broken, we may just mosey on tomorrow.
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