tempus fugit

By ceridwen

If wishes were houses...

Another sunny day but with a touch of haze. As I walked up the slope from Lower Town  a group of teenagers flung themselves downhill, full of youthful energy and high spirits. They must have been strangers  here because I heard them exclaim with pleasure when they saw the view of the harbour opening up in front of them.  "I wanna...I wanna live in the white house with the three little windows..." the boy on the left shouted excitedly, and the others chimed in with their choices. "I'd live in any of them!" said the girl in the middle .
 Sad to say, most of the quayside cottages are holiday lets now, empty half the year. Only a very few elderly inhabitants remain, such as Yolanda the postman's daughter I talked with  in 2012,  still living in the house where she was born (far right), but as these oldtimers pass on the properties are so valuable they are sold at inflated prices, way above what the locals can afford.
October sees the end of the holiday season and the harbour resumes its peaceful if slightly desolate aspect.

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