under another sun

This morning, I applied the desk manacles and began writing a website about parasites -- sandflies, mosquitoes, ticks and fleas for my lovely French clients. Found it a bit hard to concentrate, but forced myself. Lorraine mooching about at her own pace, then went to the gym this afternoon. A pleasant day. Did a short walk after four, when the writing was done. Writing about parasites made me feel itchy all day. When Lorraine came home, we jumped on a bus and made off to The Bottom's Rest, where we met Innis and Rosie for a beer and thali. Had not seen them for a couple of months, and they had been in Brazil for a time. A lovely evening, and sensible vegetarian food, and a few beers. We left the pub early and came home, happy to be sprawling about on the gold sofa.

Last day in Guernsey, and the best night's sleep for me. We got up and had a large Barbarie Breakfast, and then packed, stowed our bags with Sally at reception and walked down to Moulin Huet. Another misty morning, and the planes were delayed. Mixed feelings about not wanting to go, and hoping the planes would fly. Just lovely down at the beach, with tops of the cliffs still misty. Lurked there for an hour or so, then climbed up to have a cup of tea in the Moulin Huet tea rooms, before climbing back to the Barbarie. A lunch and a final pint of beer in the bar, before shaking everyone's hands and being given a warm farewell. Taxied to the airport, through security (officious and annoyingly requiring my bag to be open) before waiting for our plane which was then delayed three hours. The flight itself really good, and on one of the jets. We had extra legroom being near the emergency exit, and the flight lasted 40 minutes. Through the airport, quickly, and then to the car in

A bit bushed after the long walk of yesterday, and Lorraine's feet were bad. A low key day. I went for a walk but the heavy misty cloud turned quite drenching, and I returned after an hour or so, with my wet top slick. Happily read some stories by Robert W. Chambers from the collection The King In Yellow . Also had a snooze. Marvellous. After a fine dinner, we walked down to Saints Bay, which was misty and mysterious with the rocks and cliffs in tones of foggy grey as they receded. We were completely alone there until another couple came down just as we left. Walked slowly up the hill as the misty evening grew darker under the trees. Pausing not far from the Barbarie, with bats zooming overhead, one so close to Lorraine she could feel it pass. Two Germans walked past, and Lorraine said bats to them, and they said Ah fledermaus! Lots of German folks on holiday here for some reason this year. Back into the bar, and Lorraine had a rhubarb and ginger gin and I drank some bottles of

Up for a full Guernsey Breakfast, and then contemplated what to do. It was a cool but sunny day, and Lorraine and I decided to go down to Moulin Huet bay. However as we walked down Moulin Huet valley we began to realise the tide would be fairly high, and suddenly opted instead for a cliff walk to Jerbourg. We mooched steadily along taking moments to stop and sit and stare at the beautiful cliffs, and look at all the flowers. It was such a nice time. When we reached Jerbourg, we went to the kiosk and had a couple of pieces of toasted gâche and some teas and cold drinks. From there we walked back until we cut in from the main road to walk along the paths to the wishing well.  A big building job was going on there, however, and the well was dry. Tried not to read too much into the wishing well being dry, however the water was still flowing down the waterlane and it was still beautiful. I did my wish a bit further along as the stream fell towards the top of Moulin Huet. From there we wal

A cool morning. Up early and after some urgent scampering about getting ready, we jumped in the car and drove off to Gatwick. The roads empty as it was a bank holiday. A prop plane which only slowly climbs to 16,000 ft. A pleasant enough journey, despite the knee pressing seats. I felt calm on the flight, although Lorraine felt a bit claustrophobic. Arriving in Guernsey in sunshine. A cheery lady taxi driver, and we were soon sitting outside the bar at the Barbarie. The entrance, bar and restaurant have all been redone. Quite smartly, but anonymously, in greys and topes and mushroom. They have stripped out quite a bit of what made it specifically La Barbarie. There are classical columns in the restaurant, what they are doing in a Guernsey country hotel is a bit questionable, and it is trying to be a bit Italianate, with a vinyl of an Italian maze in one part. When you are on the most beautiful corner of one of the most beautiful islands in the world, it does beg the question why not

A day of getting ourselves ready, delving in the dungeon, out into the garden, in our craft room, along with laundry and various other bits and pieces such as attaching edging to the board on which I am going to do stained glass work. A house day, which was rather satisfying and both of us enjoyed it. Despite having lots of time, we still found ourselves packing our bags well into the evening for tomorrow morning's flight.

Up at 7:30 this morning to gird my loins to be ready for Anton at 8:30. Leaving Lorraine, on the first morning of half term, in bed. Anton drove us off to Ashdown Forest where we walked about without pause for about three hours or so. A beautiful day for walking, coolish with quite a bit of sun. Great to be walking (brisk walking is Anton's new fitness tip and he has been doing lots of it in the Cotswolds and other places lately). There is something great about just sloping along and chatting, as we passed into woods under tree canopies, sandy paths lined with gorse, past a small recently burnt bit, across buttercup fields, the path of a disused railway, where with nothing in sight for half a mile in either direction we had a judicious wee in the bushes, only to discover that a poor woman was sitting tucked away on a bench about ten yards away. Also crossed Pooh bridge, with a little clot of tourists there looking down at the penny coloured water. Discussed lots of stuff that nee

Travelled up to London today, and met Bob in Trafalgar Square. A children's protest against the trashing of the planet going on. Bob said he saw one placard that said, keep the planet clean, it's not Uranus. Bob and I repaired to the Mitre and had a pint of soda (B) and soda and lime, me, and discussed what to do with our time. We opted to visit Goldsmiths Centre for Contemporary Art where we saw the How Chicago! Imagists 60s and 70s exhibition which featured the work of Roger Brown, Sarah Canright, Jim Falconer, Ed Flood, Art Green, Philip Hanson, Gladys Nilsson, Jim Nutt, Ed Paschke, Christina Ramberg, Suellen Rocca, Barbara Rossi, Karl Wirsum, and Ray Yoshida. They all took shedloads of drugs by the looks of things, but we enjoyed the art. Bob is great to see art with in general, although he always points at the art, arresting his finger half a centimetre over the surface, which always makes me nervous. From there a few beers at a nice pub, full of art students, called Th

Up and doing some work for the French agency on a skin product for dogs. They asked me to do a few hours on a project. I struggled with having too much to do in a short time, and instead of getting on with it, I felt uncharacteristically bamboozled. Eventually I got it done, but it took longer than it should, and I ended up having to biff a meeting with Helen on the Centaur project. Rebellious GI tract for the last few days. At the end of the day I slipped into town, went to the gym, where I felt a bit underpowered, and had a haircut. Told the barber that I was going to vote in the European elections today, and he groaned. Beth phoned as I was walking back. Her improv project has been green-lighted by the venue, and she and her partner start in September. Exciting. My spidey sense says this is the start of something good for her. Later Beth sent Lorraine a picture of herself. There are lots of apps these days that purport to show what you would look like as a member of the opposi

A good morning's work, from 7.30 to 1.30 mainly working on the structure of the Nothing compares to you story today, and rearranging bits to help it make sense. A walk at lunchtime taking in the Hollingbury Hillfort. It is well placed, there is not too much to see apart from curve of the large wall. I was looking at it online and there was some interesting stuff dug up there in the nineteenth century. A torc, which is some kind of neckwear for ancient Britons. Feel a bit agoraphobic on the top of the hill there sometimes, but walked across a couple of drives on the golf course back towards home. Listening to my audiobook of Carrie by Stephen King as part of my ongoing Horror education. Back had a Victor Frankenstein bout of trying to jolt my marketing project back into life. As I was finishing this, I was phoned by Val in Paris saying she had sent me a little job to do tomorrow. Was due to see Anton tonight, but he had an important meeting tomorrow so passed. I instead bough

Up and breakfasting when Tom arrived. Then L off to work and I sat down and wrote for five hours, reaching my ambitious daily target for Nothing compares to you quite easily today. Then to the gym, Sainsburys and then back again to continue assessing the marketing project and how to repurpose it for Kindle. I made meatballs this evening, chatted to Tom who had gone to the gym, and then had our dinner outside when Lorraine got home, even playing a game of scrabble as the sun went down. I spoke to Sophie having been a poor friend to her in recent months. She was touchingly good about it though, and said she had loads of support from family and so on. I will properly chat to her next week. Turns out today is the day before the anniversary of Andros' death, although I had not consciously realised this. Notes with Richard and Jane, who sadly we will miss when we go to Guernsey as they will be in Belgium. The idea of going to Guernsey really exciting. We watched the second o

Up with the lark this morning. I started work at 7:20. Tom arrived and went to bed after his night shift. I tapped hard today, reaching 40 thousand words on the Nothing compares to you story , and have been reviewing and considering how to alter the marketing project I'd called A Galaxy of Light-bulbs for Kindle too. First thing to change will be its name I think. Spoke to Mum who was cheery, despite having to go off for a routine hospital visit. Calliope spending twenty minutes biffing my ink pen repeatedly onto the floor. Otherwise overcast and occasional light rain today. Most of it when I broke off for a couple of hour walk to oxygenate my brain up in the middle of the day, while listening to the audiobook of Carrie , by Stephen King. I see quite a link from Ray Bradbury to King, in the American flavour of the stories. More work, and then chatting briefly to Tom before he made off again in the evening, made a salad and relaxed with Lorraine when she got home. Watched the

Up fairly early this morning and after breakfast we drove off to Carolyn's house where she was having a gathering and seeing bits to raise money for her charity project in Nicaragua, The Forgotten Children of the Land of Lakes and Volcanoes. Had a nice cup of coffee made by her friend Martin Antonio Ruiz Hernandez in Ometepe Island, who gave her some to take back with her. Bumped into Lesley and Derek in Carolyn's gorgeous little garden, had a nice chat about Guernsey and other things. Enjoyed this morning. Then off to a garden centre where we bought some soil and a raised vegetable bedding container. This proved to be galling, as there was a problem with one of the bolts which meant we had to wait ages, and were given a discount but sold something with a dodgy bolt that we are going to have to replace or rectify. Felt pretty cross by the end of it. Late in the afternoon a burst of work in the garden, creating a new area for plants and stones. We had fun doing this, and it

Up late, after breakfast in bed. Lurking in the garden discussing our next steps. Lorraine went to a Bolney W.I. meeting this lunch time. I did little and when Lorraine came home again, we went off to The Brighton Tavern, and met Matt there with Reuben and John Hood and others. Matt and Reuben are moving to Yorkshire. Lovely to chat to Matt who I have not seen much of for some time. Usual chatty throng at the Tavern, with Lorraine finding herself attached to a nice and rather drunk man called Alec who kept telling her how wonderful she was. John left soon after we arrived. Also met Tim, a very talented poet and pianist, who arrived with a baritone horn for Matt. Much hugging of Matt and we were very sad to see him go, although it was great to see him so excited about moving into a new house, which he has bought. Felt like the end of an era for me, although Matt and I have not worked together for several years now, working with him on This concert will fall in love with you and other