The cliffs again
Checking my emails this morning on my crotchtop computer, have received an invite from Richard Fleming for Saturday night of wine food and poetry. Also had a smidgen of work to do for my pharmaceutical client which I was able to polish off in a couple of minutes.
After a gargantuan breakfast where mum was at the coffee like some crack fiend, we set off into Town, where I bought some local interest books, including Pixies and Faeries on Guernsey. A pamphlet I am sure Anton will be keen to borrow on my return.
Apparently, long ago Guernsey was an invaded by an army of foreign fairies from across the water and a distant land we now call England.
Mum and I then climbed up the steep flights of stairs that lead up to the top of St Peter Port. We passed my grandfather's little school, and I tried to picture him as a kid heading into the playground through the doorway marked Garcons. Also wandered into a catholic church, Notre Dame du Rosaire which was rather boatlike, having a nautical wheel at the pulpit, and a gorgeous splash of stained glass window light falling on the altar cloth.
After these exertions,a bowl of beanjar in the cafe on the Market Square before busing back to the hotel. The buses are displaying their poems, but I've not seen mine yet.
In the afternoon another walk along the cliffs. An absolutely gorgeous day. I can't upload photos due to the nature of my crotchtop, but it was fantastic to walk around in the bright low sun, with the cliffs covered in wild flowers and the sea calm and breeze ruffled.There was a slight mistiness still, which made the distance look milky. We paused from time to time to take photos, once near a bench just above Saints which is dedicated to my great aunt Dolly.
A spot of crotchtopping this evening. Beth sent me her interview of me today, which was rather nice. And Catriona wrote to me too about meeting up while I'm over here too to chat about Guernsey arts. All good.
In the evening off to the Captains with Betty, an old friend of the family who lives around the corner, and caught up with all her news. While Mum and Betty were talking I occasionally turned my attention to a bottle or two of pony ale, which was one of my favorite tipples as a whippersnapper. It's not the same taste any more, but was fine.
Home by torchlight under crowds of stars.
Below blackthorn on the cliffs, the altar cloth at Notre Dame du Rosaire being splashed with light from a stained glass window.
Checking my emails this morning on my crotchtop computer, have received an invite from Richard Fleming for Saturday night of wine food and poetry. Also had a smidgen of work to do for my pharmaceutical client which I was able to polish off in a couple of minutes.
After a gargantuan breakfast where mum was at the coffee like some crack fiend, we set off into Town, where I bought some local interest books, including Pixies and Faeries on Guernsey. A pamphlet I am sure Anton will be keen to borrow on my return.
Apparently, long ago Guernsey was an invaded by an army of foreign fairies from across the water and a distant land we now call England.
Mum and I then climbed up the steep flights of stairs that lead up to the top of St Peter Port. We passed my grandfather's little school, and I tried to picture him as a kid heading into the playground through the doorway marked Garcons. Also wandered into a catholic church, Notre Dame du Rosaire which was rather boatlike, having a nautical wheel at the pulpit, and a gorgeous splash of stained glass window light falling on the altar cloth.
After these exertions,a bowl of beanjar in the cafe on the Market Square before busing back to the hotel. The buses are displaying their poems, but I've not seen mine yet.
In the afternoon another walk along the cliffs. An absolutely gorgeous day. I can't upload photos due to the nature of my crotchtop, but it was fantastic to walk around in the bright low sun, with the cliffs covered in wild flowers and the sea calm and breeze ruffled.There was a slight mistiness still, which made the distance look milky. We paused from time to time to take photos, once near a bench just above Saints which is dedicated to my great aunt Dolly.
A spot of crotchtopping this evening. Beth sent me her interview of me today, which was rather nice. And Catriona wrote to me too about meeting up while I'm over here too to chat about Guernsey arts. All good.
In the evening off to the Captains with Betty, an old friend of the family who lives around the corner, and caught up with all her news. While Mum and Betty were talking I occasionally turned my attention to a bottle or two of pony ale, which was one of my favorite tipples as a whippersnapper. It's not the same taste any more, but was fine.
Home by torchlight under crowds of stars.
Below blackthorn on the cliffs, the altar cloth at Notre Dame du Rosaire being splashed with light from a stained glass window.
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