For the second half of January the sea, pressed on by an at times vicious east-southeasterly, has been breaking across the sand-bar running parallel to the Golspie shore. At night, lying awake, I can hear the sound of the breakers, this despite living in a house a good half-mile back from the coast, a house with full triple glazing.
I have lived in other houses blessed with both a view and the sound of the sea. At the Hoey House, a magnificent bungalow to the north of Mombasa set back from a coral-sand beach by fifty metres of mown lawn and palm trees, there were times when....
...the sea seemed to be washing up against the long veranda at the front of the house. Sadly, we had only one summer holiday there before we moved back into Mombasa to another house where we could both see and hear the sea....
....a house built at the top of a low scarp overlooking the golf course and the entrance to Kilindini harbour. One of my most abiding memories of that house is the ubiquitous roar of the ocean waves destroying themselves against the coral reefs that skirted the land edges.
Our house in Kilchoan was as close to the sea but it had been built in a fold in the hill and faced out onto the relatively protected waters of the Sound of Mull so, while we could sit and enjoy the magnificent view, we never really heard an angry sea.
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