One of the best parties Edsel and I went to was a ceilidh in Blue Hill. We were cajoled into buying tickets and headed out in the dark in our little rental car up Ladder Hill and the main road through St Pauls. Considering the island is so small, it took nearly forty minutes to get out to Blue Hill – the narrow road between bushy grassy verges or a line of flax sometimes the only thing we could make out in the headlights. It was blowing a gale and the car shuddered violently as we went over one section, but eventually we got down into the area called Blue Hills on the south western corner. It was not difficult to find where the party was – bright lights and a cluster of vehicles showed us where the community centre was. Once inside we found some friends that had come over from Half Tree Hollow and the Rock Club and we had a good evening. We left about 2am, the party still going on and inched our way back to town in the dark. A few days later I drove the road in the daylight and saw that the piece of road where we had shuddered in the wind was a ridge just about as wide as the road itself. I was glad that first time we had traversed it, I had not been able to see over the edge.
Our little ol’ hire car
Edsel and I were introduced by Sandra and Ray to a wide circle of people in the Rock Club which meant that when we drove around we not only got the courtesy hand wave that everyone on island does, but the double take one, where you get the subconscious wave, followed by the surprise of recognition and a more vigorous shaking of the hand before you pass each other. We’d often meet people in the Main Street, and whether we were wanting to shop or were late for a meeting, we had to exchange a few words with them in the street. It could tell ten minutes to walk twenty yards.
Out Blue Hill way
When I Went To 