Cabou in their pools
After a nice breakfast in Les Douvres, simply packed and dragged our cases down to La Barbarie, where I normally stay (it had been booked for Friday night). Felt like coming home. Then ambled to Icârt Point. We sat down to take in the view for some time, and Lorraine cried she liked it so much. Having had the week from hell at work, this escape was exactly what was needed. Ambled slowly through the flowers of the cliffpath to Saints Bay, feeling happier by the second, and then stopped at the beach on which were perhaps four other people. I paddled for a bit, but the water seemed bone-numbingly cold. I have been spoilt by the Mediterranean.
We had some tea at the tearooms, where we got chatting to the young guy who runs it, and older man from Guernsey and the lady visiting for the first time in 48 years. The Guernseyman had heard me on the radio. Fame at last! The sun came out and we sat about chatting for half an hour, before Lorraine and I walked back up the hill to La Barbarie. Slept for a while, and half watched Germany impressively slaughter Argentina in the world cup.
Had an early supper in the hotel and then walked down to Moulin Huet, and wandered about startling cabou (gobies) in the rock pools. Then we sat on the bench overlooking the sweep of the bay as the tide was coming in. Lorraine asked me to read some of my poems to her. And so I did.
Then puffing up the hill, and back to the hotel to sip a couple of drinks before bed.
After a nice breakfast in Les Douvres, simply packed and dragged our cases down to La Barbarie, where I normally stay (it had been booked for Friday night). Felt like coming home. Then ambled to Icârt Point. We sat down to take in the view for some time, and Lorraine cried she liked it so much. Having had the week from hell at work, this escape was exactly what was needed. Ambled slowly through the flowers of the cliffpath to Saints Bay, feeling happier by the second, and then stopped at the beach on which were perhaps four other people. I paddled for a bit, but the water seemed bone-numbingly cold. I have been spoilt by the Mediterranean.
We had some tea at the tearooms, where we got chatting to the young guy who runs it, and older man from Guernsey and the lady visiting for the first time in 48 years. The Guernseyman had heard me on the radio. Fame at last! The sun came out and we sat about chatting for half an hour, before Lorraine and I walked back up the hill to La Barbarie. Slept for a while, and half watched Germany impressively slaughter Argentina in the world cup.
Had an early supper in the hotel and then walked down to Moulin Huet, and wandered about startling cabou (gobies) in the rock pools. Then we sat on the bench overlooking the sweep of the bay as the tide was coming in. Lorraine asked me to read some of my poems to her. And so I did.
Then puffing up the hill, and back to the hotel to sip a couple of drinks before bed.
Below the cliffs spotlit by the sun, Lorraine among flowers, in Moulin Huet bay, sail by the Pea Stacks, and the shadow of a cliff...
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