under another sun

Something of a slow start to the day, tucked into breakfast and hung about in a leisurely way, before going for a walk. Wandered down La Rue des Grons, looking wistfully at the old family home. Walked back into St Martin's where we caught a bus into town. The driver refused to charge us double, which is a controversial new States of Guernsey policy, with the bus price for locals being half. By chance the bus also had one of my poems Hooked as a poster in it. You can't help but be cheered by this sort of thing. Some wandering about in town, a spot of shopping, with Lorraine buying some tops, before meeting Richard and Jane in Delice. This is the new name for the old market square cafe I have haunted for many years. Richard and Jane had made it back to Guernsey safely, and had caught one of the few trains available, meaning they spent a good deal of time waiting at Gatwick. Good to be able to chat to them properly for a bit. Had a glass of wine, and they introduced us to  ga...

Virtual roses I have bought anthologyofguernsey.com and today I started assembling it. Was invited to an event in Guernsey next week, as another of my poems has been chosen to go on the bus. I can't really attend. However there will be a poster of my poem, which I wouldn't mind having. Lovely note from Joan with some virtual congratulatory roses, and not just any roses they were Lilian Austen Roses. She's sent some useful feedback on Skelton. Romy said she has just started it, and it is making her laugh. Meanwhile Lorraine has given me back her copy, which has been "marked". She is positive about it too. Needless to say, I am relieved that people are liking it. You can lose perspective after so long, and start to imagine pelting down the Twitten with an axe. Gym again today. Lorraine came by this evening, and I cooked a chicken and then I made her watch Battlestar Galactica. Luckily Lorraine is one of those rare ladies with a genuine enthusiasm for Science Fiction...

Lorraine arrives A solitary kipper and Guardian breakfast. Raining off and on all day so I grabbed a bus and headed off to Candie Gardens to look at the Guernsey museum and art gallery. Surprised to learn that there was a currency here called Guernsey Doubles, which peristed into the 60s. I think I read there were eight doubles to the penny. In Candie Gardens itself, there is a fine statue of Victor Hugo, battling the wind as he faces Herm and, of course, France. Hugo was exiled on Guernsey and is the most famous writer ever to live here. Les Travailleurs de la mer , Toilers of the Sea, is the only book of his which is set on Guernsey though. A jolly fine read, especially the best battle with a giant octopus scene in world literature. Back to the Library for some more browsing on local writers. I found a limited edition book by Renée Monamy, called Guernsey, mon î le... which had some good poems, but as far as I could tell, with my atrocious French, was poorly served by her translator...

Moulin Huet Mum's last day in Guernsey, so in the morning we went down to Moulin Huet. Popped into the pottery place there, and had a chat with the potter and told him I'd found one of his pieces in a charity shop in Brighton. I bought a Klee-like square piece of pottery, with no observable function, to take home with me. Then down to the incomparably beautiful Moulin Huet bay. The tide was low and it was nice to get my hands on limpets, and pop bladderwrack and peer into rockpools in search of gobies, which the locals call cabou . The first fish I ever caught was a cabou on a groundline from the white rock. Betty had told me that my poem was on a Guernsey bus whose registration number ends with 40. Happening to be in town this afternoon, I sighted it at the terminal bursting onto the full bus with a flourish, bellowing my poem! But it wasn't, and instead was one of Richard's. Mum had similarly burst on behind me also brandishing a camera. Slunk off feeling silly. This ...