Saturday, 30 January 2016
To Portaferry, in the finger-numbing mist of last Saturday. The boats were as worn and beautiful as ever. The houses my grandfather and his father lived in still make me happy. I found nice new architectural details, and a lovely lustre-ware jug in a charity shop.
But I worry for this town that's so close to my heart.
The hotel has closed. This seems like an insurmountable loss. Everything seems to have faded and failed.
You can see that people are trying hard, pulling together, setting up community initiatives, attempting to keep everything from falling apart too much.
Maybe it's a phase, a winter hibernation before the town wakes up refreshed for the summer. I hope so. It's painful to see this beloved elderly relative suffer.