Living the High Life
February 21st 2008 It was not hard to pick out the ferry from the knot of boats moored at the quayside. It was a battered old tub with peeling paintwork; its hull scarred and gouged from one too many dockside collisions. The passenger deck was roofed with wood and corrugated iron, while astern; a mess of ropes lay ready for the boat boys to tie-off at each of the village stops the boat would make along the way. T
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