To Guernsey
A final faff about to remove the worst of the debased tat and rubbish for Matt and Wayne, who are catsitting Calliope. Then I met Lorraine at Brighton station and we trained up to Gatwick. Once through security, Lorraine floating about the shops for a bit, whereas I headed straight to the bar to attend to a cheeky.
Flight pleasant and fast, and Guernsey sunnier than England. Took a cab to the La Pompe appartments, which are very close, and I was delighted at how lovely and spacious our one was, and cheaper than a week at La Barbarie. This was just across the road from La Villette and so very close to home turf for me. There was a loaf of bread and some Guernsey butter there, of which we ate a few slices for lunch. I'd forgotten how the butter here is creamy, salty and very yellow, and this mixed with cups of tea, with sugar and the creamy milk reminded me of what tea tasted like when I was a child.
Later Lorraine and I walked to Icart, where we had a slice of buttered gâche and yet another cup of tea in the tea garden run by the friendly man recovering from mercury poisoning. The garden was busy, but full of strangely vertical plants which make you feel like you are eating in a den.
A final faff about to remove the worst of the debased tat and rubbish for Matt and Wayne, who are catsitting Calliope. Then I met Lorraine at Brighton station and we trained up to Gatwick. Once through security, Lorraine floating about the shops for a bit, whereas I headed straight to the bar to attend to a cheeky.
Flight pleasant and fast, and Guernsey sunnier than England. Took a cab to the La Pompe appartments, which are very close, and I was delighted at how lovely and spacious our one was, and cheaper than a week at La Barbarie. This was just across the road from La Villette and so very close to home turf for me. There was a loaf of bread and some Guernsey butter there, of which we ate a few slices for lunch. I'd forgotten how the butter here is creamy, salty and very yellow, and this mixed with cups of tea, with sugar and the creamy milk reminded me of what tea tasted like when I was a child.
Later Lorraine and I walked to Icart, where we had a slice of buttered gâche and yet another cup of tea in the tea garden run by the friendly man recovering from mercury poisoning. The garden was busy, but full of strangely vertical plants which make you feel like you are eating in a den.
The sky obliged us with perfect blue as we took a short walk on the cliffs. These as transcendently beautiful as ever, and we basked in the soft sound of the waves on the cliffs and the yarp of gulls and the background murmur of grasshoppers and bees. Lorraine pointing to the 'Dog and Bear rocks' and denying that they look like a Dog and a Lion. Then to La Barbarie for a quick drink and a tasty meal. Before long we were back in La Ruette de la Pompe, and actually I felt quite pleased we weren't staying in La Barbarie.
Below wind-formed hedge, a shadow in a lane with Sark on the horizon, the sun diamonding on the sea, Saints Bay, the Martello at Saints Bay, Petit Port bay with the Dog and Lion rock clearly visible. Click to make 'em big.
Below wind-formed hedge, a shadow in a lane with Sark on the horizon, the sun diamonding on the sea, Saints Bay, the Martello at Saints Bay, Petit Port bay with the Dog and Lion rock clearly visible. Click to make 'em big.
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