Regular readers will know that I was up early to check whether Scottish island mum had made it into print in the Sunday Post. There wasn't really any missing it though. So, the whirlwind of a week came to an end with my photo seeming taking up most of the page and an article that painted a picture. The question you might be left with is 'was it accurate?' Given that this is the media we are talking about you probably already know the answer. I was slightly worried that it would drop some clangers but on the whole it navigated the story quite well.
Let me share the short journey with you.
I was emailed by the journalist on Tuesday and responded to that and several other requests in time for a phone interview on Thursday morning. Most of you know that Scottish island mum is currently visiting a friend in Portsmouth. I am especially impressed with the phrase that follows a couple of direct quotes that states that 'Fiona smiles'. How clever for the journalist to see that down the phone line. The direct quotes are largely not especially the one about me living the life that other people dream about. I don't think so. Regular readers who have read the piece will probably spot my words easily so perhaps we shouldn't dwell on journalistic sensationalism too much.
This takes us nicely to the 'bonkers hour'. Although I could send through images of the family and the island I had nothing decent of me. So this is how it unravelled. The paper booked a local photographer, Steve, to come to me to take some photos for the piece. Steve knows of a small harbour nearby so off we go. Steve does his very best to convert the garden of a pub backing onto the harbour into the Isle of Arran. This conversion would not be complete without me sitting in amongst fag ends and bird poo. Slowly the pub customers start to show an interest as Steve sets up his mini photo studio and I am already over this particular experience.
Finishing in this location we are then on the move down the little boardwalk to the other end by the car park. If Steve gets his angles rights and blurs it a bit there are a couple of sailing boats in the background. These shots could be Lamlash Bay! The experience would not have been complete with the four young guys sitting in a beat up car with music blaring out. I can cope because they have their music on so loud nothing else can penetrate their world. I am wrong because the music is turned right down so that they can concentrate on what is unfolding in front of them. By now Steve is immersed in his art and we appear to be into the realm of tilting heads and wind in the hair. The guys in the car begin to impress their personalities on my little photo shoot and at this point, inside my head, I am wetting myself. The picture in the paper is that very shot so now you all know what I am thinking. The brief was to look beyond the camera as if reflecting on something. In reality it was very different.
Fear not, I am not damaged by my brush with the world of the super model and I have survived unscathed from the article. I hear, from Pete, that the piece has caused quite a stir in Whiting Bay on the island and this is reflected on a larger scale by my blog analytics that have gone bonkers. But at the end of the day Scottish island mum is just the same as ever....
We had a lovely wander around Old Portsmouth today which is, perhaps, my favourite part of Portsmouth. There is something so very real and immediate about the city and interest around every corner. I could happily people watch for days at a time. Wandering past a pair of swans in the filthy harbour making a nest out of our rubbish was less endearing but still part of the picture that defines this city. It is not for me to have a view because this is not my home. There is a lot of genuine pride in the people of Portsmouth that I find charming.
Our little walk took in the lovely old buildings, the majestic (if quite humble) cathedral, the harbour and all the boats piled up like toys on shelves. The sea breezes are so invigorating and my favourite thing about the sea front. With a hot day out come all the people and off come almost all the clothes. I loved the families gathered around the beach huts and the sea gulls begging for food. The candy floss and the chips take up their place as do the bikes and the roller blades. Portsmouth says 'family' to me and I think it should be very proud of that. It might be a long way away from my little island but its existence is just as precious and home to a huge number of people. For me, it is a writer's paradise and you could just leave me here for a month to write all the stories that are at the end of every terraced street and in every speck of green space. A very special place indeed.
Until tomorrow. xx
P.S Booked my return flight so will be back on my little island on Saturday. xx
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