Flying into beauty

Off to Guernsey this morning. Lorraine had her hair done and then we got an early train off to Gatwick. These days I am fairly relaxed about the short flight to the Gem of the Sea. Today however, I kept remembering a scene from a recent dream where I was looking out of the window and the plane was heading vertically for the ground. Gin and tonic seemed to help, as did Lorraine who has a generally steadying influence.

Arrived safely, although I did have my head slammed by a taxi hatchback, the driver being momentarily distracted as we were loading cases. Within minutes, however, I was feeling incredibly happy, sitting in the Barbarie sensibly supping a glass of Rocquette cider with a ham sandwich side dish a little after 1pm, and chatting to Jane by phone. Lorraine and I then sloped off to Icart as is traditional. The sun was emerging and the cliffs were devastatingly beautiful. Even from the plane you could see the yellow gorse, and once at Icart it zinged out against the blue sky and sea. Everywhere wild flowers in abundance, and a kestrel poised itself in the blue. All perfect and so full of colour the photos cannot do it justice.

A short walk around the headland then back to the hotel. Went by bus to St Peter Port where we had arranged to meet Richard and Jane at the opening of a new exhibition of covers of the many versions of the Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society in the Greenhouse. There was also a side exhibition of local students designing covers for it. They were far better than the professional ones. Richard and Jane looking remarkably cool and collected considering the were about to be married tomorrow. Stolen chats with these two in the melee of island networking. Surprised by how many I knew in the room. This reception over quickly, and with farewells to Richard and Jane, Lorraine decided we needed to bus it home. We got off at The Captains for a couple of pints of Pony and some pub grub, before sauntering sensibly back to the hotel for an earlyish night.

Below Icart Point, Lorraine amid gorse flowers, a gap in the cliffs, and a detail of the large map that was part of the display in the Greenhouse, which utterly omits Jersey (and Alderney).