under another sun

First of the month, and a big day. After the full Guernsey breakfast, I mooched off for a walk leaving Lorraine sunning herself by the pool. On the way to St Martin's graveyard, I was accosted by a woman in her fifties who asked me what I was photographing and lots of other questions and she told me where she had been to school in England. In the graveyard I browsed among the graves for people I knew. There are several there including Gwen and Dave of course, my grandparents. I moved on after a while and then went into the graveyard where I had a lengthy chat with the man who looks after the place, and keeps all the lawns trim. Friendly bloke and we talked about the recent lack of rainfall and so on. Afterwards I remembered a dubious character called Graveyard George who I used to speak to when a child. He smoked lots but always respectfully tipped the ash into his hand and put it in his jacket pocket.  Back to Lorraine and after a bite to eat, caught a cab out to the west Coast to...

Up for the full Guernsey Breakfast this morning. Nice to be less delicate this morning. I popped out quickly to visit Gwen and Dave's grave, and say hello to the half a dozen people I remember in there. Then all off into Town. Went up to mooch about in The Guernsey Museum and briefly in Candie Gardens. Liked this pictures in the museum, including the octopus below from an exhibit about The Toilers on the Sea by Victor Hugo. An interesting collection there, including some by an artist called Brenda Munson who mum used to like. There was also a lego exhibition of a big things such as ships made with bits of lego. Why this was in the Guernsey museum I have no idea, and a waste of space as far as I was concerned. Noted that A Guernsey Double was still on sale in the shop there however, which pleased me. And on this note, down into town where Lorraine and I met up with the very chic  and Italianate Jane and Richard, for an all too brief coffee and gossip in Le Petit Bistro, be...

Down to Petit Bôt this morning Mum, Maureen and Pat all squished in the back of the car and talking about sardines. Walked about over the stones, to the sand, and then returned to doze meditatively on the bench above the bay.  The sun flirting with us behind a large black cloud.  An American woman staying at the Barbarie passed by and we had a chat with her. Then off to Torteval again to the Imperial Hotel for a spot of lunch, slightly chaotic but filling food. Mum spoke to her other brother Peter on the phone, and then I got a work call to confirm an interesting freelance assignment to start the moment I get set foot in the UK. Then we drove off to find the Freesia centre, and spent some time circling down lanes in the middle of the island accompanied by me swearing at the map. Finally found the Freesia centre was in fact four or five long greenhouses with freesias growing in them. I love the smell of freesias, so was in an olfactory heaven. Some mooching here, and Pat ...