Continued Fun in the Fog

 

Last night we were back in our little hovel in St. Peter Port. This accommodation ranks at the bottom as the most unfriendly, smallest room, worst bed, and micro bathroom. Unable to find a decent restaurant our first night here we are ready to give Guernsey another chance to impress.

 

Heading away from the city we drove in search of the beautiful coastline. The island is well populated so the sea is not remote. However, there are wonderful walking trails high above the water and we were nearly the only walkers. Perhaps the foggy and damp day discouraged the less intrepid. The trail led us up and down around Moulin Huet Bay beginning with Jerbourg Point on the southwest corner of the island and ending on the beach on the far side of the bay. The sand was scattered with rocks from pebble sized to house sized. In plain sight housed between the small rocks were dozens of complete shiny shells of variegated shades of white, ecru, and tan. Climbing back up we used the road as a short cut back to our car. The sun was peeking through the clouds and warming the morning as we did a quick change of clothes and headed further west.

 

Stopping for a few short walks and viewpoints we circled clockwise to the north. Along the way were many World War II pillboxes and a couple of forts built by the Germans while they occupied the Channel Islands. The largest was Fort Hommet sitting on a beautiful outcrop of salmon colored rock. A reinforced pathway that was used to roll a huge searchlight out and back each night stretches out in front of the main building.

Cutting through the middle of the island we headed for the ferry dock and a three hour voyage encircled in fog back to Poole and England. We might think that we are still in England while in the Channel Islands but the residents there do not. The British flag hangs far below their flag. The islands have their own money which has the same value as the English pound but can only be spent on one of the islands.

Dinner and the night were spent in Bournemouth. Although we walked for a couple of miles looking for a restaurant it was dark and wet so we will reserve judgement. At 8pm we walked back to a restaurant we had passed by earlier. Answering "No" when asked "Do you have a reservation?", we were both incredulous when the girl said she needed to check if there was a table available, since from where we stood we could clearly see that only two of the eighteen tables we later counted were occupied. Needless to say, the girl managed to somehow squeeze us in!

 

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