Lorraine has a scamper
A slow start for us this morning, but thankfully not too worse for wear after Jane and Richard's wedding. Feeling free as birds, walked down towards Saints Bay and took the cliff path off to Moulin Huet. Totally gorgeous day again. Very sunny and warm, and almost nobody about apart from two cheery but efficient German hikers.
We went down to Moulin Huet, which was stretching itself out to its fullest sandy extent. Wandered about happily, paddling and looking at things and listening to the quiet. Lorraine however decided that she wanted to see if she could run again, and joyfully bounded up and down the beach in the water looking delighted, and explaining that it had broken through something in her.
Eventually we scrambled up to the tea rooms which seem to have reopened, and had tea and an exemplary slice of Guernsey Gâche with thick Guernsey butter in the sun looking down at the bay. In the evening after the kind of doze you have after having a long walk in the sun, downstairs to eat bowls of moules with chips and some crisp white wine. These all rather delicious.
After this, as we'd eaten early I took Lorraine up the little path between gardens that used to lead to the La coin de la Biche, which is the nanny goat's corner, where the ghastly ghost goat used to live. This features in the story I am writing for the festival. Walked then along La Rue des Grons and around by the fields back to the Hotel. A quiet night in our hotel room.
Below another glimpse down the cliffs, Lorraine running on the beach, a random anemone, and a yacht moored near the pea stacks.
A slow start for us this morning, but thankfully not too worse for wear after Jane and Richard's wedding. Feeling free as birds, walked down towards Saints Bay and took the cliff path off to Moulin Huet. Totally gorgeous day again. Very sunny and warm, and almost nobody about apart from two cheery but efficient German hikers.
We went down to Moulin Huet, which was stretching itself out to its fullest sandy extent. Wandered about happily, paddling and looking at things and listening to the quiet. Lorraine however decided that she wanted to see if she could run again, and joyfully bounded up and down the beach in the water looking delighted, and explaining that it had broken through something in her.
Eventually we scrambled up to the tea rooms which seem to have reopened, and had tea and an exemplary slice of Guernsey Gâche with thick Guernsey butter in the sun looking down at the bay. In the evening after the kind of doze you have after having a long walk in the sun, downstairs to eat bowls of moules with chips and some crisp white wine. These all rather delicious.
After this, as we'd eaten early I took Lorraine up the little path between gardens that used to lead to the La coin de la Biche, which is the nanny goat's corner, where the ghastly ghost goat used to live. This features in the story I am writing for the festival. Walked then along La Rue des Grons and around by the fields back to the Hotel. A quiet night in our hotel room.
Below another glimpse down the cliffs, Lorraine running on the beach, a random anemone, and a yacht moored near the pea stacks.
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