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 île... which had some good poems, but as far as I could tell, with my atrocious French, was poorly served by her translator. She wrote these in the early 1980s I think.
Got the bus back to the hotel, and found myself looking at my own poem. Finally I'd found it on bus 41. Covertly I watched a woman sitting opposite the poster reading it, but she seemed to look away with a disgusted grimace once she'd finished. I decided not to take this to heart.
After a little writing (I am at last feeling like writing again) in the hotel I walked to the airport where I met Lorraine. She sped through with just hand luggage and we were back in the hotel in no time, as the cab driver had a Euchre night to go to. Lovely to see Lorraine, who wanted to take a quick walk, so we sloped off to a very windy Icârt point as it was growing dark, which she loved. Lots of big rabbits in the fields poking their heads at her in welcome.
Then back to the hotel for a drink and a three course meal. Again a caveat to the puddings rule – as you will instinctively know before I remind you – bread and butter pudding is one of the three allowable puddings. But in La Barbarie they make it with delectable Guernsey Gâche instead of bread, with spectacular genre busting results.
Text from The French Bloke today. He and Max have just had a baby boy. Given his record of fathering five girls, this was big news. Everyone well.
Below Victor Hugo's large octopus, the statue in Candie Gardens, and - eureka - my poem in the bus.
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 île... which had some good poems, but as far as I could tell, with my atrocious French, was poorly served by her translator. She wrote these in the early 1980s I think.
Got the bus back to the hotel, and found myself looking at my own poem. Finally I'd found it on bus 41. Covertly I watched a woman sitting opposite the poster reading it, but she seemed to look away with a disgusted grimace once she'd finished. I decided not to take this to heart.
After a little writing (I am at last feeling like writing again) in the hotel I walked to the airport where I met Lorraine. She sped through with just hand luggage and we were back in the hotel in no time, as the cab driver had a Euchre night to go to. Lovely to see Lorraine, who wanted to take a quick walk, so we sloped off to a very windy Icârt point as it was growing dark, which she loved. Lots of big rabbits in the fields poking their heads at her in welcome.
Then back to the hotel for a drink and a three course meal. Again a caveat to the puddings rule – as you will instinctively know before I remind you – bread and butter pudding is one of the three allowable puddings. But in La Barbarie they make it with delectable Guernsey Gâche instead of bread, with spectacular genre busting results.
Text from The French Bloke today. He and Max have just had a baby boy. Given his record of fathering five girls, this was big news. Everyone well.
Below Victor Hugo's large octopus, the statue in Candie Gardens, and - eureka - my poem in the bus.
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