Though the air was only just attaining its mid-April chill, the ceaseless beating of a salty breeze had already reddened my cheeks. A year short from entering kindergarten, I was perched on top of my 'house'. Rooted deep into the grassy field, a sandstone large enough to situate a family of three. Surrounding it were similar formations, aligned in the shape of an egg. A turret — Watchtower B, as I later learned — loomed in the centre of the alignment, surveying every move, ensuring her surroundings stayed put.
Exactly how this landscape first came into place I do not know.
There were two entrances to my 'house'. A narrow portion of rock with grooves that resembled a screw, embedding the rock into its place — this I called 'front door'. The gentle slope directly opposite — 'back door'. Both 'doors' led to two shallow craters — the 'kitchen and dining room'. The largest remaining space became the bedroom. The vantage point offered a postcard-worthy panorama of Welsh's Bay.
Not far from my 'house' was the Snake Man of La Primerose. Corrugated iron sheets, decorated with Dreamtime reptiles, paint peeling under scorching rays, formed a fence. Little ones like me, given we were held tight from behind, were permitted to sit on the fence rails. It was inside this fence where the Snake Man — an amiable character in his mid-sixties, hunched back, tufts of white protruding from his cap — whisked out the day's menagerie from a canvas sack, using a steel rod with a hooked end. The salivating tone that dominated his voice almost always made me hungry. My father, who practically befriended anyone, once purchased a book from the Snake Man ('Snakes Galore! — Snake Experts and Antidote Sellers in the Bay Area'), only to have it join his collection of abandoned memorabilia.
Foamy waves colliding against a distant rock pool, the smells of mediocre seafood restaurants, a splintery plank leading to a nearby islet; pleasant motifs to look back upon. It gives me joy to acknowledge the place as little-known.
Or at least, let us hope it still is.
2001