Mallaig – my favourite place!

Swerving round winding roads and speeding past hills blooming with colour. Soft rain trickles onto rich purple heather and green, lush ferns. Along with the pattering rain is the chug, chug of the steam-train. The red carriages glide along the track as it puffs smoke into the sky. Sometimes we try to race the train but it soon passes and disappears out of sight. Closer we can see the golden beaches and the sea crashing against the rocks leaving seaweed strewn over their surfaces.

At Morar we visit my grandmother's grave. Then after 11 o'clock mass go to great Uncle Archie's house. He shows us the family tree, old photographs and even his father's war-medals! The house is called ~ Silver-Sands ~ after the beach which is virtually at the bottom of the garden! My Mother tells childhood stories of when my great-grandfather lived there; the garden was his pride and joy. He would devote his time to weeding, pruning and caring for the flowers. At the bottom of the garden is the gate, then from that a grassy slope which leads down to the beach. Once when the gate was left open overnight cows wandered in. The next morning after shoving the calf and cow through the gate my mother with her brothers and sisters used knives and forks to prise up the dents left in the perfect lawn and fix the damage before their grandfather discovered it!

At the beach we eat our picnic then collect mussels with buckets in hand, seaweed squelching at our feet.

Then on to Mallaig, there are many boats in the harbour and the tangy taste of seawater in the air. Big ones with large masts and nets of fish pulled by massive wheels; smaller ones rusty red and wind beaten, even a couple of life-boats circle in the water. As it grows dark we begin our journey home exhausted by our day of adventures!

Sophie
S2
Kilchuimen Academy