I've just had a walk along the seafront between Marazion and Long Rock. It is always lovely to look across to the Mount. I waitressed there for many summers as a teenager, dressed up as a sailor-girl (me on the right!).
In my lunch breaks, I'd take my salad, flapjack and elderflower cordial round the back of the Mount and sit down by the water. There are lovely terraced gardens back there, full of semi-tropical species. My Great Great Grandfather, George William Holmes, was the Mount's Head Gardener from the early 1900s (he had twenty gardeners working for him!). He and his wife, Emma, are even buried over there.
After a long waitressing-day on our feet in the sweltering heat, we'd all love to see the island shed its tourists and become sleepy and slow again. Stillness and peace at last. The hobblers (ferrymen) would pull into the Mount harbour to find us all dangling our tired bare feet into the sea at the end of the day. We were almost reluctant to leave the Mount and to return to the mainland. I certainly feel a deep affection for the place. I always will.
The hobblers knew us all very well. I had my favourite hobbler and I loved to flirt with him. He even took me out in his boat one afternoon to lift some crab pots and, much to our delight, we found a little policeman... a lobster... dark blue and not very happy at all!
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment