Traget End To The Holiday

 Little Story from the Summer, Late Post

One Friday night our family made our way up to Lower Largo, where we escaped from The Scottish Borders in exchange of spending a lovely week in a beautiful house by the sea. It was our first Scott family holiday in about nine years since visiting Wales when I was in primary five so it was lovely to escape from reality for awhile. I got to experience being in an airport for the first time (may not sound exciting to you but for me, it was) (one of my plans is to get a passport and visit my brother in Paris before he leaves in November (visit art galleries, see some street art, visit Disneyland and gain life experience) so it was nice to see what all happens within) to collect my brother from Paris. One thing I loved about waiting for him was seeing the joy on peoples faces when their loved ones arrived though the gates. Some holding signs in foreign languages, some even holding roses waiting anxiously, it was lovely and made me want to be on the other end.

Since my brother and sister live miles and miles away from each other, I really enjoyed being united with them as it was rare to become a whole family this year, we visited St Andrews a few times, got the famous Jannetta salted caramel ice cream, visited the local Art club, Art Galleries, Tried Fish (for the first time in six years) and chips from Anstruthers famous chip shop by the harbor, visited Edinburgh a few times on train and more.

All these miles did come to a shock with the car as it wasn't use to being pushed this far but it did survive the holiday, until the day we were leaving. Like any holiday, you always come back with more than you took which didn't help the car that much. A day before we dropped my sister off at Kirkcaldy train station, so it was just the four. On our way home we stopped off in Edinburgh to drop off my brother and to give the house key back. After visiting the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art which held the 25 generations exhibition (which I really enjoyed, with the likes of Graham Fagen's "Peek-a-jobby" play script and Jonathan Owen's erase drawings) we decided to head home when the car decided to stop dead.  

While anxiously standing on the side of the road for an hour while waiting for the RAC, a stranger pulled over and recognized us from our town, she asked if we wanted a lift back home and my mum agreed. I can fairly say that by the end of that night, I gained more faith in humanity, as cheesy as it sounds.

A few days later the dreaded day came, our old, nine year car was going to the scraps. That morning I went out, made sure I collected everything and sat for a moment, this idea came to me. I went inside to collect a pair of scissors and started cutting the leather from the car, while proceeding with that I then decided to tear more things off including seat belts, mirrors, the license plates. I didn't get everything of course as by no time, the truck came to collect it. It was a horrid moment as we watched it get carried up by the truck, it's window wiper at the back kept going back and forth as if it was giving us a goodbye. Even though it's an inanimate object that car was apart of the family, it held a lot of memories that were soon going to be destroyed, it did sadden me. 

I thought that the interior of the car may come useful for future projects. Also when is it that you get to destroy the insides of a car? I have to say it was quite therapeutic.