I was heartbroken to leave the only home I had ever known. I had grown used to the hustle and bustle of city life.

Looking out of my attic window I could see the traffic roar past like huge dragons coughing smoke and would open their jaws and roar if anyone should get in their way. Small figures like working ants going this way and that, no time to speak or even look at each other, through trying to reach their deadlines. My world, it seemed to me had all but come to an end three months earlier, when mum and dad had decided to divorce. It had been very nasty and I would often come home to mum crying alone in the house. Mum had often said that she would like to escape from the fast paced life of the city and it seemed that her wish had now been granted.

We were all packed up and ready to set off for Foley Harbour, a picturesque fishing village on the South coast, where mum had acquired a small tea shop which she was going to make into a thriving business, this she said would be a new beginning. And I to make her happy just went along with it; even though all my friends and everyone I had ever known would be left behind.

It seemed like an endless journey from the hectic city to the pleasant atmosphere of the country, the landscape forever changing until all their seemed to be where field after field with houses dotted about in tiny villages, there lights twinkling in the pitch starless sky. Long gone all the grey featureless multi-storey buildings of the city.

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I must have fallen asleep and was woken by the whining purr of the engine coming to a slow stop. There in front of me was the most wonderful sight, inky blue waves tossing, tumbling and caressing the grey rugged rocks and gently tickling and teasing the golden sand. Coloured fishing boats with their nets lying over the sides like a discarded assault course of a children’s play ground, bobbing up and down on the gentle waves as if being rocked to sleep, at the end of a hard day at sea, which were all tied to a little wooden ...

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