under another sun

Last day in Guernsey. Met up for an early breakfast. Lorraine and I both had strange stomachs after last night, but found ourselves able to fork down yet another breakfast with the others. We all split up to pack. Lorraine and I walked up near the Captains to photograph where Wendy had lived, and then back to walk to Icart to drink in the beauty one last time. The morning was beautiful and rainwashed. Then back to the Barbarie where we had an early lunch meeting Jade's mother Sian, and then Jade's Aunt Lynne. To Sian I gave a copy of A Guernsey Double , as it came out in our conversation. Fond farewells with Sam and Jade, and Sian -- then Lynne was kind enough to give us a lift back to the airport. She lives on the island and Sam and Jade and Sian were going to stay with her.  John had been on a walk on his own this morning, looking to find the water lanes again, which he fell in love with and cramming quite a few adventures in back from St Martin's village. A fairly un...

Calliope waking me from about 5:30 this morning, something I did not miss in La Barbarie. Despite having not to be up in London till 11 I got up at a sedate seven under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done but my desktop decided not to work after an update, so this flying start was wasted. Off to the Smoke doing some work on the train, and found the new agency. All okay, and an interesting project, the commercially sensitive details of which I cannot go into here. Off at lunchtime and found myself walking along Long Acre near Covent Garden thinking that this time yesterday I was walking on the Icart Road with Lorraine and Mum. I closed my eyes and could still picture it. A beautiful day though. I spoke briefly to Mum and Mas as I mooched along eating a salmon and cucumber sandwich. A slightly lonely day, being the newbie and knowing nobody. Some stir in the office when people spotted a couple making love in a room in the building opposite. Home again, walking though London and dow...

Just a few random snaps of Guernsey in the Autumn. Lorraine photographing on Icart Point, the textures of the sea, the remains of a Nazi bunker above Saints bay, the Dog and Lion rocks, rose hips and fallen fruit, Lorraine showing me the bright yellow spores under a fern with her bright red nails, pennywort, a plant I always associate with Guernsey, Icart Road near Saints Cottage, and the Icart Road heading towards Icart Point.

Not really in the mood for writing about marketing today. I decided it was too hot for it and I felt inappropriately holidayish. Instead reworked a poem based on the workshop last night. Also heard from Antony Mair, the writer I enjoyed meeting yesterday inviting me to contribute to their anthology. Contacted completely randomly by Celia, who is currently staying in Icart Road Guernsey, and who lives in Brighton some of the year. She'd seen one of my photos of a strange door to nowhere on Icart Road and asked me about it. A quick exchange of emails. I told her about proposing to Lorraine on Icart Point just a few weeks ago. Then a summons from my amigos in Tavistock Square to take a handover briefing from First Matie tomorrow: good news as the doubloons are sorely needed.  After Lorraine got home, we walked up the hill to sit outside the Open House pub to meet Matt and his oldest pal Ruth down from Scotland for a few days basking in the sun and reading books outside caf...