Friday, 30 August 2013

Guernsey

We did go to Guernsey on Tuesday. It was touch and go when I got several emails and texts informing me that the Poole ship was in dock and we had to go to Weymouth for the 8 am ferry. The last ones told us to go to the Poole port by 6 am for a coach to take us to Weymouth. So that’s what we did. Daughter and I got up at 5 and woke granddaughter at 5.30 by which time the chauffeur (hubby) was drinking coffee and getting ready to take us to the port, leaving 2 dogs on their own for half an hour, before chauffeur became dog minder.

The fog was thick as we left Poole and several times on the voyage the captain warned us that he was going to have to use the fog horn. St Peter Port was much as I remembered it from previous trips and by the time we disembarked at around 10.45 the fog had lifted and the sun was out. We mooched around the shops and bought Eryn a pair of high top trainers in a sale at a bargain price. Then we collapsed at an outside table at a Thai restaurant with a birds’ eye view of the harbour and an ice cold bottle of vino in a bucket.

After one authentic Thai meal, a large cheeseburger and chips and a crab salad because Eryn wanted to try some crab meat, we headed back to the harbour wall and ambled along hoping to have ten minutes on a beach, but a) the tide was in and b) it was too far to walk in the time we had left. So we sat around watching people play boules on the side of the harbour and then went to check in for the journey back.


We all agreed that we’d enjoyed the visit but it wasn’t long enough (on the last day trip that Hubby and I had done from Weymouth, we’d left at  7 am and got back around midnight – that day had impressed us so much we’d gone back to stay for a few days a couple of years later, and thoroughly enjoyed seeing more of the island). Unfortunately this week it took about 45 minutes for the coach to get out of the car park to get us back to Poole and we were all pretty fed up and knackered on arrival, and the sight of our steadfast chauffeur pulling in ahead of the coach was very welcome indeed.

The photo is of The Little Chapel, one of my favourite places in Guernsey. It is in a village south of St Peter Port, and really is a tiny chapel on two floors, built by a monk who completely covered every one of its surfaces with decorative shells.

3 comments:

Poetic Shutterbug said...

Sounds like a wonderful outing and that chapel has such a quaint character and feel to it. Would love to see it in person.

Jean Knill said...

Thanks Jo. Hope you get there some day.

Jenny Woolf said...

A lovely place. I went to a shell house in Jersey, which was also fascinating. My grandmother lived on Guernsey in her early married life and often spoke fondly about it but I never got there myself. Or haven't done so yet, anyway!

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