This gallery contains 20 photos.
We spent every day of our Shanklin holidays on Small Hope Beach. I went back on Sunday and took some photos. It felt strange, being there alone. Quiet.
Saturday February 25 Yesterday I tried to drive out to Freshwater to watch the sunset. Freshwater is a beautiful little town on the coast. A rugged road takes you there – to the place where Tennyson used to live. It’s … Continue reading
The other night I went for a moonlight walk along the promenade. It is a hilly path, high up on the clifftop, that stretches from Shanklin Old Village to Hope Road. You can see the sea at all times. Less … Continue reading
Wednesday February 22 Before I left Shanklin today, I took a little tour of the town. To see what had changed. Some evenings in the summer, me and my family would walk into the Old Village together and have a … Continue reading
Wednesday February 22 Today I leave The Mayfair. I remember exactly how this felt 20 years ago. The last night was always heartbreaking. Saying goodbye to everyone, hugging, promising to write. Usually, Dad and Grandad would request an early breakfast … Continue reading
Monday February 20 I’m in Room 17 again. A builder let me in. He told me to be aware of tools on the stairs and loose wires in the corridor. They are afraid of getting sued I guess. He left … Continue reading
This gallery contains 20 photos.
We spent every day of our Shanklin holidays on Small Hope Beach. I went back on Sunday and took some photos. It felt strange, being there alone. Quiet.
Sunday February 19 Today I feel like a ghost. Slipping through the places where we used to sit and dream. The future seemed so far away then. Nothing much mattered for those two weeks on the Island. It feels like … Continue reading
When I say Mayfair, I’m not talking about that very upmarket bit of London, made famous by Monopoly. I’m talking about the hotel we stayed in every year when I was growing up. If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know the … Continue reading
I made it. To the Mayfair. I’m here now, writing this at an orange pine dresser with mug-ring marks and four sachets of Nescafe. More of that later. This morning I woke up feeling excited and then suddenly very lonely. … Continue reading
It’s close to midnight and I am sitting in my childhood bedroom. With butterflies. Tomorrow I take my trip to the Isle of Wight. To write and reflect and find my Nana. I lost her last year. In a haze … Continue reading