The centre of my known universe
Up and our last full Guernsey breakfast, before packing. Wet tops on and Lorraine and I walked down to Moulin Huet. It was deserted. I was feeling twitchy generally for some reason, but the fact that Moulin Huet is the centre of my known universe and I was there with Lorraine soon had me feeling right as rain. It is the perfect place, even when grey and overcast. Lorraine loves it there too.
Eventually, and with slightly heavy hearts we walked up the hill back along the lovely lanes to the hotel. Our taxi came, fond farewells with our friends at La Barbarie, and a cheerful taxi driver took us in no time to the airport.
The plane journey bumpy and the serving of teas had to be curtailed. I was pleased with myself however, as I did not scream or rend my clothes once during the turbulence. Slow business at Gatwick, as a UK flight you now have to be collected in a coach from the plane and disgorged somewhere else. A long wait for the suitcases, enough time to speak on the phone to Valerie in Paris about a job while waiting. A bit of a performance getting to the car too but soon we were on the damp motorway home.
Plants and cats all doing well under Betty and John's stewardship. Lorraine and I went for a curry in the evening at the Shahi not wanting the holiday feeling to end. Cheery there as we ate our poppadoms and the walk there and back contributed to another healthy walking total.
Beth home late from work but we described our trip in great detail and inflicted our Guernsey photos on her. She has an interesting audition next week.
Below Moulin Huet looking empty and mysterious this morning.
Eventually, and with slightly heavy hearts we walked up the hill back along the lovely lanes to the hotel. Our taxi came, fond farewells with our friends at La Barbarie, and a cheerful taxi driver took us in no time to the airport.
The plane journey bumpy and the serving of teas had to be curtailed. I was pleased with myself however, as I did not scream or rend my clothes once during the turbulence. Slow business at Gatwick, as a UK flight you now have to be collected in a coach from the plane and disgorged somewhere else. A long wait for the suitcases, enough time to speak on the phone to Valerie in Paris about a job while waiting. A bit of a performance getting to the car too but soon we were on the damp motorway home.
Plants and cats all doing well under Betty and John's stewardship. Lorraine and I went for a curry in the evening at the Shahi not wanting the holiday feeling to end. Cheery there as we ate our poppadoms and the walk there and back contributed to another healthy walking total.
Beth home late from work but we described our trip in great detail and inflicted our Guernsey photos on her. She has an interesting audition next week.
Below Moulin Huet looking empty and mysterious this morning.
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