People love Millport. I mean, really love it. When change impacts Millport, it impacts them.
I visited Millport a few years ago, on a day trip, when the weather wasn’t exactly great. Grabbing a quick photo of Crock Rock, eating cake in the Garrison, waiting in the rain outside Angela’s for the bus back to the ferry. Having to wipe the condensation from the inside of the window, attempting to catch a glimpse of lion rock - it really does look like a lion from the right angle you know? Worrying if I really didn’t need a return ticket to get back to the mainland, or was that a joke played on day trippers?
For some people it goes a lot deeper, Millport is in their blood, maybe even their DNA. Mum and Dad came on their holidays, Gran and Grandad, maybe even a generation beyond that. Millport is part of that collective memory.
And these aren’t locals they are “just” visitors. I say “just” but the repeat day trippers can be just as passionate about Millport as any local.
There aren’t many real locals that live on the island and even fewer that can claim to be born and bred, most people living on the island appear to have fallen for Millport so much that they upped sticks and moved.
Things change. No more donkeys, hovercraft. Sinclair C5’s, boats around the Elieans, or boating ponds etc. But Millport evolves (slowly) and it survives. Because of the love of the people that visit and live here.
And the sea defence is part of that, we’re living through the worst of it, the noise, the upheavals, the moving of benches, but at the end of it, and I really do believe this, it will be worth it. All the stepped seating around Kames Bay will look fantastic, the houses in Crichton Street can retire their sand bags, and the prom along Newton Beach will be a pleasure to stroll down ice cream cone in hand.
What would grandma say about this change?
“As long as you’re happy hen”
or maybe not?
But you can bet she’d have some apt phrase to sum up the situation.
And that’s the rub.
Millport’s done its trick again; it’s made you think about Mum or Dad, or Gramps. They’re here with you, right now, as if they never went away.
Millport will always be Millport for that reason.