under another sun

Sat at my desk with a sigh of satisfaction this morning, able to work on exactly what I wanted. April Fool! Workmen instantly started hammering on the roof next door, a matter of feet from my study ceiling, so cue stamping, the dropping of bricks just over my head, shovelling etc. Sometimes I think there is a conspiracy against me. Worked downstairs on my laptop, and this was much better. Off then to London to meet Shaila by the Tate Modern. We sat in the cafe and chatted for hours. Lots going on in her life, including the death of her uncle who brought her up. Good to see her though. Seeing someone you have known since you were a spotty herbert at school is quite grounding. Then we walked around Southbank and around Waterloo, I was on the hunt for a bookmark featuring London that I had promised Maureen I would find. Unable to find one, so I have resorted to the internet and have ordered one there. Had a quick drink with Shaila in Vaulty Towers, where I have been with Anton...

Up just in in time for breakfast, after sending off a fast note or two about the pitch next week. The full Guernsey Breakfast exemplary this morning, and set us up nicely for the journey into town where we bought two trident tickets to Herm, and mooched about shopping for sunglasses for me and shorts for Lorraine for the day had turned hot and glorious. Over in the trident sitting up top. Found ourselves near Jenny Kendall Tobias who was talking authoritatively to a woman and her daughter from Brighton about the islands. Chatted to Jenny for a while, who was on holiday with her son camping in Herm for a few days. An enormous cruise liner like a futuristic floating slab on the water mid way. Lorraine had never been to Herm, and I think last time I was there, I went with Dave my Grandfather so it must have been in the 90s. Thankfully it was almost unchanged. Although we were reliably informed by a woman in a shop in St Peter Port that the Mermaid has gone posh, and that there were st...

Sark in the wild rain Raining steadily in Guernsey this morning. No matter however, we were off to Sark to meet Anna and Anton and the bairns, who have unaccountably been staying in Jersey. The Bon Marin de Serk left early. We found ourselves in the company of people going to a funeral, and others to a Pirate-themed party. The sky was slate grey, and the sea greenish grey, and despite the calm sea, the boat gave slovenly lurches over the little waves, which had Lorraine grateful she'd taken her travel sick pills. It also forced her to look up from The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo she is avidly reading. After half an hour we'd reached Maseline harbour, where it was pouring with rain, and climbed aboard the tractor-drawn carts up the hill to the village. Lorraine and I scrambled into a cafe for a hobbits second breakfast where the choice was a full English breakfast or an egg and sausage sandwich. The staff moaning about how busy it was. Outside the rain alternated between heavy...