LORD HOWE ISLAND REVISITED

Mum has kept a daily diary for you, so I will only say a bit about the first and last days. As we strap into a de Havilland Dash I remember the day, sixty-five years ago, when Squadron Leader Wright stepped out of another de Havilland, a Chipmunk, and wished me luck on my first solo. Today, we are above a carpet of fairy floss which soon gives way to a globally warming blue ocean dotted with thousands of white cotton wool buds each casting a jet black shadow. Last time, we were met at a wooden hut masquerading as an airport by a barefoot girl driving a truck. Today is not much different in this little patch of Paradise. Drivers, though perfect strangers, still wave to us walkers or cyclers.

Now, our last day, we look across the lazy lagoon to the line of white dumpers pounding the outer reef and I remember the start of an Anglican prayer “The peace of God, which surpasseth all understanding, remain with you  …..” And it still remains with me as we wait for the plane and I look across at that rock and remember you all posing against it, Sophie waving from the top.