It's 03:32, day 2

I really don't get this loss of 24 hours I go through these days.

Mind you, getting ready to have the floors done probably didn't help. Too much lifting, carrying, shifting, losing.

The sea has been rough, with a swell of 4 meters making moving around difficult. 

I did get up for a few hours yesterday but came to the conclusion food was a step too far. I'd packed some water biscuits so had them with a couple of pieces of fruit. I've enough meat on me not to starve 😁

Today I'm hoping to resume a normal service. 

My only problem is, having slept for nearly 24 hours, I'm no longer tired.

A note to Shirley; really odd not seeing your face on deck 6 and even more so the first night outside The Grill.

Be sailing shortly....

An easy journey down: few road works. That, coupled with a lovely lady who rode with me, passed the two and a half hours really smoothly.

My first time out of Portsmouth and I was surprised just how different an experience it was.



We were docked next to two cargo carrying ferries. They reminded me of days gone by when I would plop off the end of the ramp in a Scania and head off somewhere with a load on board.



Not this time. I'm sitting in my cabin waiting to be called to my Muster station; North Cape Bar for those who know the ship.

We will pull off after muster and then it's three days of gentle sailing toward our first destination.

Me? Well some of the ladies in the Spa have already seen me, recognised me and asked wen I was coming down. So I've already committed myself to a hydrotherapy relax tomorrow.  

Happy days.

And finally....

Having had my hearing cleansed I returned to view one last exhibit, a fabulous Griffon engine out of a fighter plane.

Next to it were torpedoes

their workings exposed. Seemed strange to be looking at valves and wiring in an age of computer mounted surface componants.

Yep, in my mind a morning very well spent.

Walked back at double speed to have lunch in the Thai place then back to my room to get scribing. 

Tomorrow we leave around midday so slow, gentle end to a lovely week. Will be looking again at Spain escorted tours, level 1as you get one hotel, half day excursions and plenty of free time.

Only thing I'd ask is, can I have a mini fridge please, window ledges don't quite cut it. 

Last full day and off to Castle Cornet

Set amongst modern day sailing boats and ferries, Castle Cornet is considered a very good example of a Napoleonic fort turned into a WW2 garrison.

Both first and second World War memorabilia is housed here with personal experiences of those who fought and lived to tell the tale. 

Both harrowing and heart warming, the stories told of the bravery amongst the Guernsey men who went to fight and how so many were lost in some of the bloodiest battles.

Much of the remnants of the German occupation can be seen around including the girls names given to each of their guns. 

Steps are everywhere taking you up to gun emplacements and down to ordinance storage. Tunnels from the original construction blending into the later, concrete additions of the invading army.

We listened to the noontime salute across the bay; a small electrically detonated blank of wadding. It looked, for all intent and purpose like it was set by a charge from the rear. Beautifully done.

I then spied one of the larger ferries coming in, possibly France or perhaps Jersey. It didn't stop long, enough time to unload, reload and leave. Quite a sight from the ramparts.

Officially we went and saw an exhibition

The trip today was to Candie Gardens up on the ridge and visit the art exhibition there. It was the first time many of Renoir's paintings (produced during 1883) were being shown together on the island and the press had awarded the exhibition 5 stars.

One of the paintings has stirred much controversy as it is attributed to be a view in France but looking at it, it's pretty obvious it's a view in Guernsey. The scholars are mulling over the evidence, tee hee.

Having entertained myself there for an hour (that's all you were alloted) I wandered back into town.

Parts of me are seriously arguing so I'm resting for the remainder of the day.... however...before then...

I sauntered along to the lighthouse pier and dipped my toe in the water off the end of one of the slipways. Cool yes, but not that bad. It made me realise what has been missing this holiday, so many beaches, so much sea, and I've not stopped and sat on any of them. I need a beach!!

Yes, I got that close. He just watched me and allowed me to get this shot.

Looking back along the pier at St Peter's Port through the plethora of small boats.

For reference, a 3-bed semi is £1,250,000. Mm, somewhat outside my price bracket. 

Sitting by the dock on the bay...

It's fairly early and most people are still having breakfast. I've already been to Boots, checked there's sushi (yep), bought plasters (seems my horse mullered toe has been burrowing into the next one) and picked up cold sore cream (yep, falling apart at the seams as always).

I decided to sit in a small garden overlooking Herm when a lady in a dark blue denim dress came and sat down not far from me. She reminded me of me in my 30s in so many ways; she wore patent high heel shoes, a midi length dress, carried a leather cartridge style handbag and sat down to watch the world and have a cigarette. Apart from the phone in her hand it seemed so familiar.

A day on Sark

As we rounded the far side of the island the lighthouse came into view warning vessels of the treacherous nature of the waters round here.

Hop on the tractor-towed open carriage and we were taken up the steep slope to the village.

The roads are two carts wide and the only traffic you hear is the clip clip of horses and tractors moving things from one place to another. Roads themselves are surfaced specifically for horse transport, accommodating their need for non slippy surfaces. No cars, no vehicles on Sark and its so peaceful.

Bicycles are a firm favourite for locals and you often pass them lying against the hedge where they've been left.

The scenery is magnificent With France, Aldernay and Jersey visible one side whilst Herm and St Peter Port lie on the other. It's only when you stand and look out, you realise just how close France really is.

a small quarry where all things solid, like rubble and old brickwork,  gets broken up and reused. It's hard to tell if there is any quarrying per say, but the area at least is still in use.

I can never resist a fishing boat and this one, sitting out the water in the smallest working dock in GB, was just itching to be photographed. 

A lovely day. Now back, tired and ready for rest. Maybe a shower and a wander to the livingroom; catch up with some of the others in the group.