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2019 Adventure story winners

In 2019, we celebrated wonderful imaginations by encouraging young adventurers aged between 4 and 12, to get creative both in and outside of the of the classroom. Children could enter via one of two creatives - by writing or drawing about an adventure they have been on or they have imagined.

For our 2019 competition we partnered with Hachette Publishers and Micro-Scooters, to offer a range of great prizes not only for the overall category winner but for their whole class too.

There were two overall winners awarded to two age categories, 4-7 years and 8-12 years.

Introducing our winners for 2019…

MAYA MISHRA - AGED 11

We loved Maya's drawing, her use of different materials and styles was amazing. Maya's teacher, Agata, said "I'm so please Maya won the competition. Maya always comes out on top with her writing. We're so happy that Maya has been recognised for her creativity". 

her drawing

'Lula is fed up with the tiresome reality of life and decides to go on an adventure in her imagination'

We loved this drawing for its creativity and clever use of other materials. Keep up the great work Maya, we know you'll be an amazing artist!

melissa rumble - aged 6


her drawing

Melissa's drawing was of her character 'Katie', who takes her unicorn on an adventure to South Africa where they find treasure.

Keep enjoying your adventures Melissa and Katie! We look forward to hearing about where you'll go next! Perhaps you can enter our next competition and tell us. 

oliver klumpler's story - aged 9

We danced out of the house without a care in the world, slamming the rickety garden gate behind us. Leaping the little stream, we trotted along the rocky foreshore, tripping over seaweed and driftwood, feeling the salty air sting our faces. We would jabber at each other about the games we could play, and guess what we might find that was new this time. “Remember when?” Was a constant refrain, as we reminisced about the time Alex fell off the rope swing or when I had sat on a dead jellyfish.

Eventually we would reach our destination. A fine country house had once stood beside the sea here, with carefully planted gardens, and many amazing trees. The house had long been abandoned, and so had the garden, which was now as overgrown as any fairy-tale forest had ever been. We would sneak in through a tiny gap in the stone wall, and enter our private playground.

Horrified wildlife would disappear as we crashed about, rebuilding dens and clambering favourite trees, hollering to one another all the time. Why would we need to be quiet? Nobody lived here, nobody ever visited except for us, there was nobody we could disturb.

Or so we thought. That afternoon, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed smoke rising from the ruins of the old house. Calling to my siblings, I pointed. We gently tiptoed towards the smoke, and saw the truth behind it all. A red scaly tail, crimson leathery wings, a large scarlet head, with glowing fiery eyes. A dragon! We turned as one, and fled out of the garden, galloping back to the cottage, where our parents were opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

“A dragon! In the old garden!” We all talked and shouted at once, trying to tell them what we had seen. They laughed, and drank their wine. “No, really!” I said. “There IS a dragon! If you don’t believe us, come and see!” Mum laughed again. “Ok darling, maybe we will come and have a look. But you do know there’s no such thing as dragons, don’t you?” As soon as our parents were ready, we walked back along the beach towards the old garden. Mum could barely fit through the gap in the wall, but somehow, we all got through. The smoke was still spiralling above the old house as we crept through the garden. We saw that several of the trees had scorch marks on the trunks, and some of the grass had been burned in places. How had we never seen this before?

As we got closer to the house, we heard a strange sobbing sound. Mum and Dad actually began to look more scared than curious, as they realised that we may not have been making it up. We snuck across the old overgrown lawn, and peered through the cracked dirty windows, all gasping at once as a large sad red eye stared back at us...

 

rory woodward - aged 9

HARVEY IN DRAWLAND

Harvey was sitting at his drawing desk doing some doodling, when he heard a strange twinkling sound coming from the port hole he had just drawn.

Looking deep into the picture, Harvey leaned so far forward that he fell headfirst into the desk. But instead of feeling a pain in his head, he felt a tickling sensation. Then his feet landed in something soft and wet. He realised it was a baby’s nappy. Yuck! And even worse – it was a used baby’s nappy!

It took a few moments, but Harvey soon realised where he was. He was in Nappyville – a place from one of his drawings. In Nappyville, everyone wore a nappy – from the rich to the poor, the young to the old, from swimming nappies to pull-up pants, the villagers all had them on.

Harvey asked one of the villagers where the king’s place was (he knew there was one, because he’d drawn it in his picture of Nappyville). The villager pointed north and said: “The king’s palace is that way - be careful, if the king’s in a bad mood he will throw you into the dungeon.”

Thanking him for the warning, Harvey started walking. When he reached the gate of the king’s palace, he could see guards at each door to the mighty, grey stone building. He asked one of them if he could enter. The guard said yes, so two soldiers led Harvey into the palace.

As he entered, he saw a long red velvet carpet. At the end of it was a colossal throne – and sitting there was the King of Nappyville. Harvey knew it must be the king, because he was wearing the famous Golden Nappy of Nappyville.

Harvey got down on one knee and bowed. But before he could open his mouth the king started speaking. “That is not how you kneel in Nappyville!” the king told him (he was obviously in a bad mood).

The king stood up to banish Harvey to the dungeon. But as he did so, the Golden Nappy of Nappyville gave way and fell to the floor. The king cried out in horror.

Harvey had an idea. He quickly pulled his drawing pencil from his pocket and drew a new golden buckle. He handed it to the king, who used it to secure his nappy.

In return, the grateful king handed Harvey a magical pencil. “This pencil will enable you to create any picture you want.” he told him. “And they’ll all become real.”

As soon as Harvey took the pencil, he found himself back at his drawing desk in his bedroom. He looked at the magic pencil in his hand and thought what to draw next,

Just then, Harvey’s mum called upstairs and asked what he was doing.

“Don’t worry mum,” Harvey replied, as he put on his swimming goggles and licked his lips. “I’m just drawing a massive swimming pool filled with chocolate milk. I might be a while…”