A perfect walk

A full Guernsey breakfast at nine o'clock, and then out into the gorgeous parish. Down to Saints and then up onto the cliff path. Paused at the bench dedicated to my Grandfather’s sister Dolly, where we fell into a conversation with a Portuguese lady, who lives in England who asked me if I was a Christian when I started talking about the cliffs. She said she had been born again.

We walked on in a beautiful Sunday morning, perfect for walking in being not to cold nor hot. We walked to  Jerbourg, and doubled back and dipped down to the wishing pool, where we both made wishes. The trough of the abreuveur was full of leaves, and leading down was a stream of golden leaves under which water trickled. Then we walked down the waterlane to the top of Moulin Huet and back home to the Barbarie. The weather changed a bit, but we made it back to the hotel for a rest before it rained. 

A bottle of Prosecco, a gift from Beth and John, had been left in our room. And after hot showers and a bit of a snooze, we happily glugged this. As we had not eaten lunch it went straight to our heads. A meal in the restaurant. I had a steak, which I’d not had for a long time. Back to our room to watch The Grand Budapest Hotel, in bed. This is the fourth time I'd attempted to watch this film, but had always had to stop watching it before the end, twice on planes, and once by falling asleep at home.  I finally was able to watch it through. News too that Manchester United had been spanked roundly by Chelsea 4-0, always satisfying.

Walking towards Jerbourg and a wish in the wishing pool.