Across the Narrow Sea

In the morning we drove along the initially pastoral and then bleak eastern coast to the Pentland ferry. The journey took an hour and was without event, except for a maelstrom of sorts near the coast. On the upper deck a band of folk musicians from southern Italy played violins, guitars and pipes amid the sea spray and wind. It was one of those fleeting experiences where you can’t quite remember the tune, but I remember just what I felt like standing there at the windy railing listening to it, looking out over the grey sea.