We had arrived late in the day, on the CalMac ferry from Ardrossan. Dinner in the hotel had seemed other-worldly, as though we and the other diners had just begun a magical adventure whose substance was to be the exploration and understanding of the island of Arran.
The rain storm thrashed the tall windows, and we looked out at the darkening, still unknown world.
After the meal and wine, we put on our most waterproof clothing – meagre, now, in the face of this Scottish August storm, and went out into the night. Brodick’s quayside curved away into the darkness, symbolic of the work we would need to do to find…
©Stephen Tanham, 2020.