Off to Guernsey
Up just before six today, to the welcome news that Obama had
been re-elected in the US presidential election. Lorraine dropped me and my
case at Brighton station, before driving off to work. Felt sad she wasn’t
coming with me. Luckily, a completely uneventful journey followed, as I was feeling
curiously stressed.
The morning was misty, but the twin-engined prop climbed up into the blue and I had a smooth ride to Guernsey above a blanket of low-altitude cloud that covered the channel.
Nice local cab driver, in whose cab I managed to drop my wallet giving me a dodgy few seconds of pocket patting before it was recovered standing outside La Barbarie.
I had arrived early, but they checked me in anyway, and I was given the keys to the apartment. Arrived at La Croix Guerin café, ready for a large breakfast, smearing the buttercup yellow Guernsey butter on my toast and gulping my first cup of tea of the day. These hungrily engulfed, I set off for a walk.
First, I paid my respects to La Gran'mère, which of course had the obligatory white van parked next to it. And popped into see my grandparents grave, and looking at Sadie (my grandfather’s sister-in-law) newish one before walking down to Moulin Huet and along the cliff path to Jerbourg.
Heart singingly beautiful, despite being overcast, subduing the rust, green and purple colours in the cliffs. Sometimes a break in the cloud sent intense beams of light down in patches onto the sea, like arriving UFOs.
I don’t feel quite as if I have arrived yet though, and walked through all the familiar scenes, loving them but not quite connected to them.
Encountered a statue of a greenish donkey, at Jerbourg, proudly standing under a Guernsey flag, with its posterior pointedly directed at Jersey.
I have lost a lot of fitness in the past three months, and found myself returning to the Barbarie after 3 hours feeling weary. The self catering apartment at La Barbarie is homely, and I felt really happy to be on a sofa reading The Time Traveller, a biography of H.G. Wells, and playing about with some of my own stuff.
Very quiet in the room, and I jumped when Lorraine rang. Off in the evening to The Captains for a couple of bottles of Pony Ale and some food. Home and a spot more reading before an early night and another chat with Lorraine.
Below La Gran'mere, a natural arch on the cliff, various cliff views, with patches of sunlight on the sea; a large artificial donkey with its posterior pointed towards Jersey.
The morning was misty, but the twin-engined prop climbed up into the blue and I had a smooth ride to Guernsey above a blanket of low-altitude cloud that covered the channel.
Nice local cab driver, in whose cab I managed to drop my wallet giving me a dodgy few seconds of pocket patting before it was recovered standing outside La Barbarie.
I had arrived early, but they checked me in anyway, and I was given the keys to the apartment. Arrived at La Croix Guerin café, ready for a large breakfast, smearing the buttercup yellow Guernsey butter on my toast and gulping my first cup of tea of the day. These hungrily engulfed, I set off for a walk.
First, I paid my respects to La Gran'mère, which of course had the obligatory white van parked next to it. And popped into see my grandparents grave, and looking at Sadie (my grandfather’s sister-in-law) newish one before walking down to Moulin Huet and along the cliff path to Jerbourg.
Heart singingly beautiful, despite being overcast, subduing the rust, green and purple colours in the cliffs. Sometimes a break in the cloud sent intense beams of light down in patches onto the sea, like arriving UFOs.
I don’t feel quite as if I have arrived yet though, and walked through all the familiar scenes, loving them but not quite connected to them.
Encountered a statue of a greenish donkey, at Jerbourg, proudly standing under a Guernsey flag, with its posterior pointedly directed at Jersey.
I have lost a lot of fitness in the past three months, and found myself returning to the Barbarie after 3 hours feeling weary. The self catering apartment at La Barbarie is homely, and I felt really happy to be on a sofa reading The Time Traveller, a biography of H.G. Wells, and playing about with some of my own stuff.
Very quiet in the room, and I jumped when Lorraine rang. Off in the evening to The Captains for a couple of bottles of Pony Ale and some food. Home and a spot more reading before an early night and another chat with Lorraine.
Below La Gran'mere, a natural arch on the cliff, various cliff views, with patches of sunlight on the sea; a large artificial donkey with its posterior pointed towards Jersey.
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