When an island becomes home.
When an island becomes home.....destiny within the dram. 2001. I think (or at least that’s what the photos tell me). That’s the first time I ever visited the Isle of Arran. My grandparents had been visiting annually for around 10 years by this point with their other grandchildren and now it was time for me to take the reins since they had grown up. I remember being an excited 12 year old, itching to go on holiday and visit somewhere that was clearly special to them. I still get that feeling now, every year (sometimes more than once) when I visit, 20 years on. There’s a couple of things I remember about my first holiday to Arran. The first being the crossing, it was mid June but the river Clyde wasn’t at her calmest. My Nana asked me if I wanted to go up onto deck outside and I said, at first “No, it’s a bit choppy and the waves might get me”. Eventually I changed my mind and just like I predicted I got soaked from a wave. Great start. We stayed in Brodick for the week. In an upside-do...