Quote tattoo on a calf: The journey is the reward

The Wexford ferry still runs on the old timetable, though nobody on the quay believes in it any more. I typed this on Dad's Imperial because the ribbon is still good and I wanted you to see the letters the way he used to see them, square and stubborn. Mrs Penhallow says the machine sat under the chandlery's counter since the fire, and she said it with the face of someone who has already decided what I ought to do with it.

You will want to know about the jetty. They have finally replaced the boards at the end, the ones that rocked when you ran out to meet the Saturday boat, and the new planks are pale as bread and smell of creosote. Everyone walks on them carefully, as if they might give way. I stood at the end on Tuesday with the spray coming up over the posts and thought about what you said the night before you left: that getting there was the only part worth having, and the harbour was just a place to put your feet down before setting off again.

I have been practising on the backs of old invoices, typing the same line until the letters stopped looking like mine: the journey is the reward. I used to think it was the sort of thing printed on a tea towel. Now I think you meant it, and that you were kinder than I let you be.

Come home when the boat is in, and tell me the rest of it over tea. I will have the ribbon changed by then.

Yours, Ruth