Day 15 - London

Beer drunk: 1 pint, Wine: 2 glasses

Distance walked: unknown

Today was overcast and decidedly cool.  The first day when it wasn't sunny and mild, if not warm, since I've got here.  Given this is autumn in the UK I have been extremely lucky.  I had worse weather when I was here in June in 2012.

Spent the morning ambling around Kensington Gardens, studiously ignoring the Princess Di memorial fountain.  I did spend time watching the birds on the Serpentine.  There were coots, cormorants, herons, swans, all manner of ducks and lots of canada geese (which are bolshie in true geese style).

Afterwards I hopped on the Tube and went to Covent Garden.  I've been riding the Tube a lot here. Even in peak hour I've never had to wait more than a few minutes for a train and I've always managed to get a seat.  Taking the train back in Melbourne is going to be a come down.  I got to hear a entertaining announcement today.  A bored station guard was said in a monotone "Please stand clear of the doors.  Train now departing.  Please stand clear of the bloody doors.  Train now departing."  I was the only person who laughed.

I also laughed a great deal at the Jeeves and Wooster play, Perfect Nonsense.  Being a Wodehouse story it was wonderfully silly.  The staging was deliberately silly too.  It consisted of Bertie telling the audience the story of an eventful weekend.  Half of the time he is just talking to the audience.  In the other half he acts out various scenes with Jeeves and the butler of one of his aunt's, Seppings, assisting him by playing all the other characters. Jeeves also helped by creating props. Bertie kept being sidetracked by the props and exclaiming over Jeeves' cleverness.  All silly and lots of fun.  It also helped that all three actors were very good.

I had lunch at a randomly chosen pub, the Round House, as I saw it was selling Doom Bar - a Cornish craft beer I tried on my previous trip and had enjoyed.  It was as good as I remembered.  I also had a burger and chips. Eating mince in the UK can be a gamble.  They've had scandals about their "100% beef" turning out to be horse and other non-cow creatures.  I only had the one course. The first in all my days here. Even for breakfast I generally had a plate of something plus toast.  I guess I need to start getting used to eating sensible amounts of sensible foods (and drinking sensible amounts).  Plus I need to get back into the habit of cooking for myself.  What a bore.

For dinner I finally got my pizza.  I went to the San Marco Ristorante e Pizzeria.  It was frantically busy.  I was tucked into a table near the bar at the back of the restaurant.  The kitchen was in the basement and there was a dumbwaiter that was used to bring food and take dirty plates down.  The access hatch was in one end of the bar so I got to watch all the fun.  The place was very crowded with tables just a fraction too close together.  The staff were rushing around frantically, sidling past one another, with much shouting at one another in Italian.  Nothing got dropped which was amazing.  The waitress serving me was new and wasn't coping well.  My pizza went to two other tables before getting to me.  It was a properly made pizza so I was pleased to get it.  I had the test dessert here too, tiramisu.  Again, decent, but not a patch on mine.

Now I just need to pack and go back to real life.

Day 14 - London

Beer drunk: 0 pints, Wine: 3 glasses
Distance walked: unknown

Slept soundly only to be woken early by the couple in the room next door checking out at 6am. Getting suitcases out through the doors on the small landing is clearly tricky.  Below is a picture of the large landing.  I took it standing on the stairs up to the 3rd floor.  On the right is the swing/fire door giving access to the stairs leading down, ahead is the door to room 27 and on the left is the swing/fire door to the small landing that gives access to rooms 28 and 29 (my room).  I couldn't take a picture of the small landing as it is too small.

Aside from the strange arrangement of fire doors this is a fine hotel for its price range. The reviews on tripadvisor are really mixed.  Some complain it is dirty, which isn't the case.  There is certainly dust on little used surfaces, e.g. the windowsill, and I suspect looking under the bed would not be advisable.  However, the bedding is clean, as is the bathroom, and those are the places I care about. It is a compact room but you can walk around the foot and both sides of the bed, as well as open the wardrobe doors fully.  That might not sound like much but I've stayed in places where you couldn't. The bathroom is also a decent size. One place I stayed in Paris was so small that when you were sitting on the toilet, you could put your feet in the shower and rest your elbow on the sink.  Here at least the bathroom is long enough that the these are laid out one after the other, rather than in a clump.  However, it is so narrow you need to open the bathroom door so you can safely dry yourself off without banging your elbows.

After breakfast I went for a wander around the neighbourhood.  Right around Paddington station all the 4 and 5 storey terraces have been turned into B&Bs or hotels.  Whole streets are wall to wall cheap hotels.  However, if you go into the mews at the back of these rows the story changes.  It is all private homes with lots of pot plants and outdoor furniture in the mews that make it look almost village-like and much more upmarket.  If the ads in the local real estate agents are to be believed they are also eye-wateringly expensive.  If you just replace the pound sign with a dollar sign, it is dear enough, never mind doing the currency conversion.

After ambling around Paddington, I ambled around Hyde Park and then finally down Oxford Street in the direction of the British Museum.  I didn't go into the museum because by the time I got to it, it was lunchtime.  I stopped at a pretty French bistro, the Savoir Faire, which is trying its best to be Parisian even though it is on a busy road in London with building works going on next door.  I was warmly welcomed, even though I was on my own, as I was their only customer for the first 30 minutes.  I'm not sure their Parisian feel is working which would be shame as their food was very good.

To start I had maple glazed goat's cheese on toasted baguette slices which had been topped with pesto.  It sounds odd but really worked. The crunchiness of the toast contrasted well with the creaminess of the cheese.  The sweetness of the maple glazing went really well with the earthiness of the cheese and the garlicky goodness of the pesto.  For main I had a beef daube with steamed veg. The beef was very rich and tender.  You could cut it with a fork.  Graeme would have approved of the veg.  Personally I would have preferred it to have been steamed a few minutes longer. For dessert I had tarte tatin which was sadly disappointing.  It was made with apple puree rather than slices so the texture was wrong.  Also, the apples were some sweet variety rather than a tart one like a Granny Smith so it was all a bit cloyingly sweet. 

After lunch, I didn't so much as amble but rather waddled in the direction of the theatre ticket booth in Leicester Square.  I got cheap tickets to see a Jeeves and Wooster play tomorrow. I hope it is better than The Mousetrap.

The Mousetrap was on at St Martin's theatre which is lovely but very, very steeply raked so not for those unsteady on their feet as it would have been easy to lose your footing and tumble down the stairs.  The floor also undulated from side to side which made me worry about the soundness of the whole structure of the building.  

I'm afraid I liked the theatre better than the play.  I suppose theatre actors have to make their gestures large and pitch their voices so they carry to the very back row, but it gives their performance a very mannered and artificial feel.  On the other hand, perhaps they were simply not very good.  The plot was also not one of Agatha Christie's best.  I actually dozed off for a portion of the 2nd act but still managed to work out whodunnit.

For dinner I decided on a place call ASK Italian, which is part of a chain, but I only wanted a quick bite.  I was going to have a pizza but they only made them in a size large enough for two.  I suppose I could have had one anyway and just left any I didn't want, but it seemed such a waste.  The pasta dish I wanted, penne baked with meatballs, had been sold out so I settled for lasagna.  It was decent but nothing special.  For dessert I had my test dessert, tiramisu.  This was clearly made on the premises and properly, with savoiardi biscuits, not layers of sponge cake.  It also made no pretence of being flavoured with any sort of alcohol, just with coffee, so there was none of that nasty artificial essence in this one.  On the whole it was also quite decent.  I would have liked it more if it hadn't come with a thumbprint on the top where the chef had steadied my piece as he was lifting it out of the dish.  Still, you can only hope that everyone in the kitchen has clean hands, even without thumbprints in your food.

Day 13 - Getting to London

Beer drunk: 0 pints, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: unknown

Cousin Alex had offered to drive me to the airport this morning for my flight back to London.  It was at 10:20am and he thought picking me up at 9:15am would be fine.  I was a bit nervous about that but he swore it would only take 15 minutes to get to the airport, 30 minutes if traffic was particularly bad, so that would be plenty of time.  The notion of arriving some 35 minutes before a flight when you have luggage to check in didn't seem fine to me but since he was doing me a favour I could hardly insist he show up earlier.  As it turns out, I was puttering around at 8:15am only to get a phone call to say he was waiting for me in Reception.  He'd heard on the morning news that road works near the airport were causing significant delays so he decided we should leave as soon as possible.

We set off in his little white van, heading north and west down side roads and back streets, with Cousin Alex muttering to himself and dithering about which road to take. The van struggled to get up a particularly steep slope in first gear at one point.  I had visions of having to get out and push.  The brakes weren't too flash either but we never actually hit anything.  When we got to the western coast, we turned and headed south and east to approach the airport from the other side.  The whole trip took only 30 minutes but took several years off my life.  I spent most of my remaining 10 Guernsey pounds on a meagre breakfast at the airport.   A pity I couldn't have got a stiff drink but it wasn't opening hours yet.

The flight to London was unexceptional, as was the journey to my hotel, once I'd actually found the correct platform for the Gatwick Express train (it took me three goes).  My hotel here, Barry House Hotel, is the most expensive of all of the places I've stayed and my room is the smallest.  It is very convenient to Paddington and to central London so I'm not complaining.  The owner's name is Bobby by the way.  I don't know who Barry is.

It is a converted terrace house (as are all the properties on this street and the surrounding ones).  The layout is extremely odd. At the top of the stairs (I'm on the 2nd floor) there is a fire door that I have to push open.  This leads to a small space about the size of a staircase landing.  To the right is the door to a room and in front is another fire door.  Pushing this open leads to an even smaller "landing" - about half the size of the previous one.  Opening off this are two more rooms, one of which is mine. You have to sidle into this second landing and let the door shut behind you before you can get to the door of my room.  I'm sure all these fire doors would prevent the spread of fire.  However, I suspect they would also prevent the spread of guests out of the building in the event of one.

After checking in and getting settled, I headed out.  I stopped at the first place I came to for lunch as it was now 2pm and I was starving.  It was a greasy spoon and the food was as good as could be expected, i.e. not very. I then hopped on the Tube and went into the centre.  I wandered around Chinatown and the West End, studiously ignoring all the much nicer places I could have had lunch. Mary will adore the West End.  It is wall to wall theatres with almost too many shows to chose from. I bought myself a ticket to see Agatha Christie's "The Mousetrap".  It has been showing continuously for 62 years, however I never seen it and don't know whodunnit.  I must be one of the few people who don't.  I'll check the reviews for some of the other plays that are on and perhaps see another one on Wednesday.

I then spent the rest of the afternoon doing some gentle shopping in Stanfords map shop and Foyles bookshop before wandering down Oxford Street.  Selfridges was a disappointment.  Just your bog standard department store.

After depositing my purchases and resting my feet for a bit I headed out for dinner near my hotel. Due to its proximity to Paddington (a 5 minute walk) there are dozens of places from cheap and nasty to more upmarket ones.  I settled randomly on an Italian place called Villa Rosa.  As I was going by the Italian waiter was having an intense discussion with 2 Italian tourists who elected to eat there.  It sounded like a good bet to me so I went in also.  Solo diners are not viewed with suspicion here in London so I had no trouble getting a table.

To start with I had tonno e fagioli (i.e. tuna and beans).  Someone had opened a can of tuna and another of beans and put some of both on a bed of mixed lettuce, spanish onion and cucumber.  I was given my own cruet with salt, pepper, oil and vinegar to dress it how I pleased.  It was basically how I would have made it at home so was a pleasing way to begin.  For main I had tagliatelle bolognese. The sauce wasn't as good as mine but was perfectly acceptable and the serving was huge.  Dessert was where it all went downhill.  I had tiramisu which was awful.  It was clearly commercially (and cheaply) made with some sort of artificial essence in place of the Marsala.  It tasted chemically and not very nice at all.

Day 12 - Herm

Beer drunk: 2 pints, Wine: 0 glasses, Cocktails: 1
Distance walked: 6km, Time taken: 1 1/2 hours

Spent the day on Herm, which is a tiny island just off the coast of Guernsey.  All my guidebooks agreed that it was only 6km in circumference and my GPS agreed.  I ambled around it an hour and a half as it isn't particularly hilly either.  Sark felt like it could easily be home to witches, pirates and smugglers.  Herm seems much more cuddly.  There are several shallow sandy bays that are easy to access so lots of families with young children were there.

Nothing much to report in the way of sights.  There is this curious obelisk.  Originally there were neolithic monuments on the tip of the island but the stone got used for buildings during the Victorian era.  When the local sailors complained about the lack of obelisk, which was an important day mark, this object was built to replace it.  I suppose it does the job.

I saw lots birds.  Gulls of all descriptions, plus several kestrels which are glorious to watch and also a genuine shag on a rock (but if flew away before I could photograph it).

After circumnavigating the island I settled in the at the Mermaid Tavern for food and beer.  I had a beef and ale pie, which was an interesting take on the dish.  It was plate of stew with a piece of puff pastry, which had been cooked separately, perched on top - see below (the first and only food photo in this blog).

There was a beer festival on the island over the past week.  About half of the craft beers had sold out but there were plenty of others left.  I settled into the beer garden with a book and sampled several of those available - an extremely pleasant afternoon.

I was planning on catching the 3:30pm ferry back to Guernsey but I'm wise in the ways of ferries now so I ambled in the direction of the dock at 2:45pm.  There was a long queue of people slowly getting on the ferry.  I joined in and we set sail at 3:05pm.  Not sure if it was the 2:35pm ferry leaving very late or the 3:35pm leaving very early.  Guess it doesn't matter.

When I got back to Guernsey there was a fair going on along the waterfront.  It was in aid of the local chapter of the RSPCA, the GSPCA.  In among the standard stalls of arty crafty stuff and tourist trinkets, there were food stalls with food for both people and dogs.  There were also some pet ferrets and parrots from the GSPCA.  I noticed the sign on one of the parrot cages that they can sometimes bite a bit too late.  My favourite stall was one where you could get a studio portrait taken - of your dog - not your child.

I then headed back to my hotel for a quick shower before starting to pack.  I discovered I had no hot water.  Someone had turned off my hot water heater - jumping the gun a bit as I don't check out until tomorrow morning.

I had dinner at the local chinese, China Red, which was rather more upmarket than that sounds.  They suggested I have a drink at the bar before having dinner.  Normally, I would have refused but I had 40 Guernsey pounds to spend so I thought why not.  They print their own money here on the Channel Islands.  They will accept pounds from the Bank of England but the mainland doesn't return the favour.  You can change your Channel Island pounds for English ones at a bank but I couldn't be bothered doing so for such a small amount.

After my drink, a caipirinha, I settled in at my table.  While the restaurant positions itself as an upmarket place it also does a brisk trade in takeaway food so they weren't precious about their tables and I got a good one in a good spot.  I started with BBQ pork spare ribs which were very good but very rich.  For main I had duck with a mix of mushrooms and jasmine rice.  The duck was on the rich side too.  In hindsight I should have got some greens too.   Even with a generous tip I still have 10 pounds left.  What to spend it on?

Day 11 - Rousse Tower to St Sampson

Beer drunk: 0 pints, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: 15 1/2 km, Time taken: 4 hours

Today was a gentle amble around the bays and headlands on the northern coast.  This is a lot less hilly so the bays ranged from merely pretty to workmanlike harbours so no envy inducing photos I'm afraid.  Once again I've managed to begin my walk below sea level.  Perhaps I really can walk on water?

On the plus side on this walk I got to see more cows.   I'm sure of it this time.

I also got to see a billy goat which, for reasons which obviously made sense to him, was standing on a platform in the middle of a field.

Nothing much to report on the walk itself.  It was a harmless ramble.  Most of the other people I encountered were locals walking their dogs.  I did see two dogs out for a walk on their own which was a first. This is a very doggy place but these were the first free range animals I'd seen.  I did finally work out why the tips of my ears are sore.  They're sunburnt.  I've been lathering sunscreen on my face and neck but never bothered with my ears.  I'm a slow learner apparently.

As this end of the island doesn't get as many tourists finding a lunch spot proved to be a problem. I came to the first place, a cafe, at midday but I wasn't very hungry and there was nothing on the menu that was particularly appealing so I kept going.  The second place, a restaurant, which I came to at 1pm, was shut.  The next, a kiosk, I got to at 1:30pm.  Their sign promised bacon rolls but they only had fruit scones and a few tired sandwiches left so I passed on this too.  Guernsey folk do not understand scones.  They are all the size of wagon wheels and stuffed full of raisins which is just so wrong.  I got to another kiosk at 2pm which didn't even pretend to have bacon rolls but again just offered tired sandwiches and fruit scones.  I kept walking on to St Sampson harbour, which is further than I planned to walk, just to find somewhere where I could get to sit and eat something other than a fruit scone.

I ended up a the Boulangerie Victor Hugh.  It is a small chain in the Channel Islands.  Apparently he spent "almost a month" here on Guernsey and they've been milking that visit for all its worth ever since. I had what was labelled a croque monsieur.  It had bechamel on the outside and solitary piece of ham inside and, for reasons that were not obvious, half an olive on top.  It was pre-made.  The girl behind the counter asked me if I wanted it heated up.  When I said yes, she sighed and gave it a brief whizz in the microwave! It was edible (just) and  I was hungry so I ate it.

After this I caught the bus back to town and had a second, much better, lunch at Cafe Delices.  Here I had a freshly made galette stuffed with mushrooms, spinach and cheese.  I also had the worst coffee of my trip to date.  My hotels have all realised their limitations and just served filter coffee. However, the cafe had delusions of grandeur. They had a proper espresso machine but not a proper barista.

I had dinner in the hotel bistro again.  It is a Saturday and there is some big open air music festival on this evening so I thought my chances at the restaurants in town were slim to none.  As it was I only got a table here at the hotel bistro because I was a resident and was tucked away in the darkest, most out of the way corner.

The daily specials were the same as on the first day I was here. In fact, they've been the same every day I've been here. A fairly liberal interpretation of the word "daily" seems common here. I started with a tomato and basil soup, which would have been good if it hadn't been lethally hot.  For main I had a smoked salmon salad.  I'm easing my way back into eating fishy things. It came with an elegant glass bottle of Mary Rose dressing (mayonnaise mixed with ketchup).  As I was certain it came out of jar rather than be home/house-made with raw egg I happily poured it on my salad greens.  I'd be surprised if commercial mayonnaise had any form of egg in it.  For dessert I had a perfectly acceptable creme brulee, which I would have liked more if I hadn't had the pistachio one to compare it to.

Day 10 - Sark

Beer drunk: 1 pint, Wine: 0 glasses
Distance walked: 11km, Time taken: 3h15m

I woke in the middle of the night because my digestive system decided it wanted something I ate Gone!  Now!  Not a fun experience.  I would like to blame the indifferent ice cream or the disappointing fish and chips but I strongly suspect it was either the prawns or mayonnaise in the Absolute End salad.

I'd bought my ferry tickets to Sark the day before but wasn't sure I'd get to use them given I'm prone to sea sickness at the best of times, which this wasn't.  However, when I woke in the morning I felt fine.  I had a big bowl of bland, nonthreatening porridge for breakfast and headed for the ferry terminal.  The ferry was scheduled to leave at 10am but I'd been told to get there by 9:30am.  I couldn't see why since it was just a watery bus but did so anyway.  Turned out to be a good thing as they started getting us on board at 9:30am and by 9:40am it was full so we set sail.  The people left on the dock were not amused.

The ferry ride took an hour.  I sat in the covered area in the middle of the ferry as I figured this would have the least amount of movement.  Most people rushed to sit in the open area up the front (prow?). As soon as we had cleared the harbour it started to get bumpy as there was "a bit of a swell" in the words of one of the sailors.  The people up front very quickly started getting soaked with spray much to the amusement of us inside.  After about 5 minutes a steady trickle of people gave up and fled indoors to be greeted by cheers, claps and general derision.

My two guidebooks once again claimed very different distances for the same route.  One claimed the cliff walk around the island was only 10 miles while the other said it was closer to 15 miles.  Given that I got to the island at 11am and my return ferry was at 4pm that only left me 4 hours for walking (since I'd need to start heading for the ferry at 3pm to make sure I got on board).  There was no way I was going to do 10 miles in 4 hours let alone 15, so I just walked the southern part of the cliff route and then wandered the dirt tracks inland for the rest.

The cliff top scenery was once again spectacular.  I know I keep using that word but it keeps being appropriate.  Below is a picture of Dixcart Bay.

I went across to Little Sark which is a blob at the very southern tip of Sark joined by a narrow path called the Coupee.  It is about as wide as 1 1/2 cars.

On the right hand side of the Coupee there was a very (very) steep set of stairs leading down to the bay.  There was a sign saying it was built by volunteers (i.e. we didn't ask them to do it, we're not that crazy) and use at your own risk (i.e. you'd have to be insane to clamber down there).  I wasn't even remotely tempted - perhaps if I was being chased by an axe murderer but not otherwise.  The "path" is the diagonal line leading down in the picture below.  It was every bit as precipitous as it looks.

There aren't any cars on Sark.  The only means of transport are feet, bicycles, horses or tractors.  I saw one man on a tractor doing home deliveries of groceries.  He had a big digger attachment on the back and had put all the boxes in that.  Novel but effective.

I had lunch on Little Sark.  There is a hotel there, La Sablonnerie, with a very upmarket restaurant.  It was also very fishy which I'm not currently a fan of so I lunched in their more downmarket tea room which was set in beautiful gardens.  I had a ploughman's lunch - cheese, bread and pickles.  No fish, no seafood, no mayonnaise and tasty it was too.

After lunch I headed back to (Big?) Sark and wandered generally around the island.  Beside tourism and tax dodges (there is an HSBC office here) another big industry in viticulture.  I was surprised but there were vineyards everywhere.  I'm not sure what types of grapes.  White wines at a guess.

In hindsight I should have arranged thing so I could stay longer on Sark as I missed a lot of the island.  I should have considered staying overnight so I didn't have to fuss about getting ferries back. There are lots of places to stay here.

In my ramble around the town centre I came across this evil fountain.  In the middle are big metal flowers - the green and red bits.  When the flower head is upright water pours into them from the silver "leaves" above.  When they are full they tip over and pour the water into the bottom of the pond.  So far so good, but when they are empty they tip upright and this bangs their stem against the toadstools below.  There was a constant banging and bonging, which was audible from quite some distance away.  If I lived nearby I'd sabotage the pump.

I got back to the road leading to the harbour at 3pm and fortified myself for the journey back with genuine Sark ice cream made from milk from genuine Sark cows (as elusive as their Jersey counterparts) which was quite good.  Lemon cheesecake flavour.  I then wandered down to the harbour where the ferry was already docked.  However, it was a good few feet back from the stairs leading down from the dock as it was low tide and the captain was worried about the rocks.  Two lifeguards/harbour master types came by in an inflatable and mocked them for being big girl's blouses.  After much mockery and gentle guidance the 4pm ferry pulled up at the dock almost right on time at 3:35pm.  By 3:45pm we'd set sail.  Again, leaving people behind.  Apparently they were going to send a second ferry.  They'd done the same in the morning.

I sat outside this time but at the rear (stern?).   I got mildly splashed but not too much.  There was again a "bit of a swell" but my stomach behaved itself and with the sun and the rocking motion I actually fell asleep.

For dinner I had a counter meal at the pub next door.  Steak and kidney pudding with mashed potatoes and peas.  It was a proper pudding again, not a pie, but not as well cooked as the one I'd had before as the pastry was a bit soggy.  But it was tasty and filling and had nothing to do with the sea so I was happy.

Day 9 - Les Tielles to La Perelle

Beer drunk: 1 pint, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: 14.5km, Time taken: 4 1/2 hours

Cows!

At least I think that is what those brown blobs are.  I watched them for a bit and I swear one of them moved.

A keen reader will notice my starting point is not the same as yesterday's end point.  That is because bus stops here are identified by painting the word "Bus" in large letters on the road.  Unless they also happen to be near some identifying feature, such as a cross street or building, it is difficult to identify precisely which one you want.  The Jersey method was similar but they numbered their stops which made life easier.  I took the bus to the Torteval Church stop and then walked to the nearest access point to the cliff path (not included in the measured distance). I ended up rejoining the path perhaps 2km away from the previous point.

I did only a little cliff walking today as I was near the end of the south coast.  The cliffs here are more vertiginous which perversely makes the walking and navigating easier.  There is little option to drop down into bays or walk out to headlands, just the one path along the top of the cliffs.  The scenery was as lovely as yesterday but more on the rugged side as it lacked the pretty bays.  It also lacked the other hikers.  I only saw a handful today in total, whereas yesterday I kept coming across other people every 10 minutes.   Most of the people I saw today were locals out walking their dogs.  I did encounter a German couple.  There are a lot of German tourists here which surprises me.  I wonder what they make of all the (understandably) less than flattering coverage of the German occupation during WW2?

The walking on the western coast was dull - all along beaches or in the dunes or occasionally on the road.  I was a little sorry I hadn't been able to rejoin the path at the same point I left off yesterday to get that extra piece in.   However, walking that extra 2km would have taken near to an hour which would have meant I wouldn't have had as much time at Fort Grey or Lihou Island.  These are both off the south coast and only accessible at low tide.  In particular, Lihou Island, is only accessible for 2 hours at the very lowest of low tide and even then you have to wade at some spots.  Below is a picture of the causeway back to the mainland from the island.   If you look very closely (far right in the middle) you can see a couple of people splashing their way out to the island.  On the island are the ruins of a Benedictine priory.  There is also a large (and rather lovely house) you can rent.  I don't imagine there are many takers given the access difficulties.  You can't get there by boat safely as the rocks go all around the island.  There is no harbour.

Also on my travels today I came across a Peon Table, pictured below.  In the Middle Ages, the lord of the island would do a tour around the island every 3 years inspecting the roads.  His servants, i.e. his peons, would sit at mounds like this to eat their meal.  You sit on the grass on the outside with your feet in the ditch or up on the mound in the middle.  It is actually surprising comfortable although the grass was a little damp.

I've finally eaten some genuine Guernsey ice cream and it was remarkably dull.  Standard commercial strawberry.  A disappointment.  Lunch was also a disappointment.  I was in L'Eree and the pub their looked more like a modern motel with a small bar/restaurant attached so I gave it a miss in favour of local fish & chip place. Unfortunately, this was a mistake as the fish was tasteless and the chips soggy.  The only point on the plus side is that I had my own bottle of vinegar to drown the chips with.

After visiting Lihou Island I also walked on to see two prehistoric tombs.  These are also meant to have been havens for witches and all sorts of sordid goings on.  Sadly dull on the day I visited.  It also meant when I got to La Perelle I'd missed the bus.  I retired to the La Perelle hotel for a pint while I waited an hour for the next.  I left the pub with what I thought was 15 minutes to spare, only to see the bus approaching.  I'd misread the timetable.  I sprinted to the stop - hard to do in hiking boots and with a pint of Guinness sloshing around - but the bus driver kindly waited for me.  The bus drivers here have been much kinder than the one on Jersey who abandoned us all at La Rozel.

After getting back to town I decided on a whim to go to Sark tomorrow. I'm enjoying this single centre based walking as I can decide how much or little I walk each day rather than having a predetermined schedule of the point-to-point style walk.

My hotel here is a 10-15 minute walk out of town.  For dinner I decided to try one of the restaurants further along the road, thinking they get less passing traffic and may be more welcoming to random diners, even those on their own.  I was a bit apprehensive when I walked into the Absolute End as it was rather more upmarket than I'd expected from the outside.  But I was warmly welcomed and well fed.  I'm not sure whether it was because they were only half full or because they had a party in the function room or whether it was because it was run by Italians (I don't recall meeting the distain for solo diners in Italy) but I don't care.

For a starter I had the Absolute End salad - avocado, celery, cucumber, crab and prawns in mayonnaise.  It was very refreshing but didn't taste of much.  For main I had grilled brill with steamed veg and fried zucchini, which was pleasant.  For dessert I had a pistachio creme brulee which was divine.  My most expensive meal yet but the best service and a welcome change from yesterday.

Day 8 - St Peter Port to La Prevote

Beer drunk: 0 pints, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: 20km, Time taken: 6 1/4 hours

Today was my first day walking on Guernsey and it felt as if it was a lot hillier and longer than any other walk I'd done so far.   However, my GPS says that isn't the case.  In fact, the total ascents and descents today were fractionally less than Day 5 (only 992m ascending and 877m descending). Navigation was harder as the path isn't as clearly marked.  I walked out to a fair few viewing points on headlands and, once, up to the main road, instead of along the cliff path.

I will hold to the claim that the scenery here is more beautiful than on Jersey.  After all, no GPS can contradict me here.  The water is a different colour, greener than on Jersey, but the bays are still lovely.  Below is a picture of Fermain Bay.

I think the people here are generally friendlier too. One thing where Guernsey isn't quite on par with Jersey is the weather.  The temperature is a few degrees lower (low 20s rather than mid 20s) and it is generally windier, particularly in the evening. On the plus side, it means I get to wear some of the cooler weather clothing I've been lugging about.

I had lunch at the Icart Point Tea Room which is just a fancy name for what is strongly reminiscent of a school tuck shop nestled in an overgrown garden.  I had a pleasant chat with the owner, Al, as he made me a sandwich (cheese and pickles).  He trained as a physicist but now runs the tea room with his mother in the summer and overwinters in Italy (a hard life clearly).  When I arrived he was writing a long letter to the local government (the States) complaining about politicians and bankers. A genuine eccentric. The sandwich was ordinary, using supermarket ingredients, but I also had a piece of homemade coffee cake which was very good.  I've since discovered Al makes his own ice cream which is supposed to be delicious.  Wish I'd known at the time as I would have had some.

I've still to have some ice cream here but plan to do so. There is genuine Guernsey dairy which makes genuine Guernsey ice cream from genuine Guernsey cows.  Both the cows and the ice cream are superior to any others say, for example, those you'd find on Jersey.  Mind you genuine Guernsey cows are as hard to spot as their Jersey equivalents.

After lunch I carried on to La Prevote before heading inland to find myself directly at a bus stop. Excellent.  What was not so excellent was the bus stop wasn't in use as there were road works up ahead and so traffic was being diverted.  There were some workmen nearby and one stopped to examine my map and help me find an alternative bus stop.  While we were doing this we spotted a bus going by in the opposite direction (out of town) so he rushed out and waved it down.  Turns out the out of town half of the road is open so I hopped on the bus, rode it to a terminus on the far side of the island, and then back to St Peter Port by an inland route.

For dinner I attempted to eat at a very pleasant seeming French bistro but it what fully booked that night, and sadly, every night of my stay (truly as I could see the reservation book).  They were very charming and apologetic but still turned me away.  I then tried an Italian bistro but they sneered as they turned me away.  I ended up at a place with a French name but run by Italians with an Italian menu, St Emilion.  The food was ordinary and the service amateur but the owners were very welcoming.  Happy to serve single diners, happy to serve a group who wandered in at prime dinner time but just wanted coffee and cake.  I had the house pate to start which came with toasted white sandwich bread and was a bit more porkier tasting than I prefer.  For main I had a fillet of brill which was one of the daily specials.  The owner raved about it, however I'd had coffee there with Cousin Alex the day before, the "daily" specials had been exactly the same.  As it happened it turned out to be delicious.  Very fresh and well cooked, just grilled with a lemon butter sauce.  The veg was dull - steamed carrots, peas and potatoes.  For dessert I had tiramisu.  It was made as a layer cake with layers of sponge and mascarpone cream and topped with chocolate sauce rather than being dusted with cocoa.   Allowing for the differences in construction it was almost as good as mine.

The restaurant was right on the waterfront, in what used to be the cellars of a building which faces onto the main street above.  There were crowds gathered by the waterfront and lots of official looking people wandering about in hi res vests.  I wandered over to see what was going on.  Turns out it was a spring tide tonight and they were expecting the water to come over the road and possibly even flood the shops opposite.  The official types were the local equivalent of the SES who were probably wishing all the silly tourists loitering about, watching water rise and attempting to take photos of it (guilty as charged), would just get out of the way and go home.  In the end it didn't come up as high as they feared, but they did close one lane of the road.  More because it was flooded with tourists than anything else.

Edited to add - below is the same point at low tide.  There is an almost 10m difference in water levels.

Day 7 - Getting to Guernsey

Beer drunk: 1/2 pint, Wine: 3 glasses
Distance walked: unknown

Took the ferry to Guernsey today.  I was driven to the ferry terminal by a Portuguese woman from Madeira.  Apparently there is quite a large Portuguese community on Jersey which makes sense when you think about the history of Madeira.  When I told her where I was going, she told me about the rivalry between Jersey and Guernsey.  Rather like Sydney vs Melbourne with Jersey being the Sydney equivalent.  She said Guernsey is the one with the chip on their shoulder, whereas Jersey doesn't fuss about the other island at all.  She confirmed this by spending the rest of the taxi ride explaining, in detail, how little time the people from Jersey spend thinking about Guernsey.  Very Sydney vs Melbourne like.

I was a bit concerned about the ferry ride as I get seasick very easily.  However, the sea was calm and the ferry was one of those monstrous, great catamarans they build in Tasmania.  I've had bumpier bus rides.

I met up with Cousin Alex at the ferry terminal here on Guernsey and he drove me to my hotel.  He hikes, cycles, sails, surfs and skis.  He is also 86.  He gave me plenty of advice on good places to walk, bought me a coffee and showed me how to get to the bus terminal.  We then parted ways.  Me to go sightseeing, him to chat to friends as he was a bus driver here for 20+ years.

I like my hotel here better than the one on Jersey.  My room there was a standard, rectangular room. Pleasantly laid out but conventional.  Here my "room" is actually an odd collection of three nooks. The door opens into the largest rectangular nook which houses the bed, then there is a short hallway to another rectangular nook which has a desk and wardrobe, finally there is another short hallway to a semi-circular nook (bulging outwards this time) which is my bathroom.  Loads of character but nowhere to string a clothesline which is a nuisance as I like to rinse out my hiking gear every day so I'm not too feral.  I have a seaview room.  Below is the view at low tide

and then at high tide.

After unpacking and getting settled in I went out to lunch at Villa which specialises in pizza and pasta.  I didn't get much choice in location as there were two cruise ships in port so it was a matter of finding somewhere with an empty table.  I had spaghetti with meatballs and a glass of house red.  The sauce needed more salt.  The meatballs were heavily seasoned with mint which was unusual.

After lunch I went wandering about the town.  I like St Peter Port better than St Helier.  It is much steeper which is perhaps why more of the old town buildings have survived.  Admittedly, once you go more than a street or two away from the centre it becomes offices blocks or apartment blocks, but the very centre is pretty.  Every second shop seems to be a jewellers.  Not sure why but I may be forced to buy some jewellery.

I went to the Tapestry Museum which wasn't what I was expecting.  Instead of a collection of tapestries throughout the ages it was a collection of 10 modern tapestries, each stitched by people from each of the 10 parishes on the island, depicting the history of the island through the last 1000 years.  Shades of the Occupation Tapestry in St Helier (cf the rivalry between the two islands).  It was beautifully done and a novel way to learn about the history of the island.  They care as much about their Norman heritage as their English.  The local flag is the St George cross with the golden cross of Duke William on the top.  They put out commemorative coins with Duke William's head on one side in 1966 to celebrate 1066 and again in 2002 (anniversary of his death).

After doing my duty as a tourist I retired to my hotel's bar.  This is another reason to prefer this hotel. My hotel in St Helier on Jersey had a upmarket bar and restaurant.  Here on Guernsey my hotel also houses a pub and bistro.  I got myself a local brew and settled in with my guide books and maps. Following Alex's advice and my experiences yesterday, I won't bother walking all around Guernsey. Instead I plan to spend 2 days walking the cliff paths around the southern coast and then spending a day on a circular walk along the north western tip and then inland.  These routes have little to no road walking and spectacular views.  I may even get to see a cow this time.

I had dinner at my hotel's bistro, La Piette Bistro, as one of the cruise ships was still in port and they give preference to hotel residents so I could be sure of getting a table.  The printed menu didn't inspire me (burgers, pizza and pasta) but the daily specials were a vast improvement.  I started with a slice of country pate, aka terrine, which came with sensible bread (but not enough of it).  For main I had ox cheeks braised in red wine with various root vegetables and a rather good mash.  I'm afraid I didn't have room for dessert as I hadn't done enough walking today.

Day 6 - St Helier to Rozel Bay

Beer drunk: 1 1/2 pints, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: 22km, Time taken: 6 hours

Well today was not a day of holiday highlights.  I decided to do the last segment anticlockwise which turned out to have good and bad points.  The good side of things was the initial stretch out of St Helier was as dreary as I feared as it was along busy main roads, through industrial areas. I got to go around a power station!

Once out of St Helier and into the next parish, St Clement, it was all walking down pavement along suburban streets, with only occasional glimpses of the sea through gaps in the houses.  If I wanted to walk around suburbs during the day and then dine out at night I could have stayed in Melbourne and saved on the airfare.  Once into the next parish again I was able to abandon the streets and walk along the beach as the tide was out.   Part of this walk lead me past a golf course which has to be one of the hardest places to play as I expect there is always a strong wind either onshore or offshore.  There certainly was today.  The golfers were having to aim 45 degrees off to one side so it would come somewhere near the green.

I stopped at the village of Gorey for lunch (sadly no connection to Edward Gorey) after which it was almost all walking on what is euphemistically termed "green lanes".  This just means narrow country roads.  Some are bus routes but are too narrow for two buses to pass so they have to coordinate with the bus coming in the opposite direction to determine who gets to enter the lane first.  Road walking is at best dull and can be downright unpleasant when there is a lot of traffic.  Still, the car that came closest to running me down was a Ferrari so at least I would have died with style.

I was glad I'd walked in this direction as the last little section into Rozel Bay was back along tracks up and down spectacular cliffs and along beautiful bays which was more like the walk yesterday and was a pleasant way to end the day.  Both guidebooks again failed to give accurate estimates of the distance of this section.  Both underestimated it this time.  I'm glad I did the extra piece yesterday.

One section of the last part was along a sea wall from one end of a bay to the other.  I got about a third of the way along and was confronted with a sign saying the path was closed. There was no way up to the road above the bay so the only (official) alternative was to turn back.  I couldn't see any problems with the wall in the closed section. It seemed as sturdy as the parts to either side and the slope above as stable so I just jumped the barrier and carried on.  There were a few sections were the path got very narrow and the drop to rocks on the seaward side was precipitous (the tide was out) so perhaps that was the reason why it was closed.  When I got to the other end I had to walk past a lifeboat station with two lifeguards outside.  I expected to get scolded as was obvious I'd walked along the forbidden section as there was no other access to the path I'd come along.  However, the were either unaware or unconcerned and I passed without comment.  Perhaps they don't trouble themselves about people who come to grief on land as that isn't their domain.

I got to Rozel Bay about 10 minutes after the bus had left.  My luck has deserted me.  I waited 50 minutes for the next, along with an increasingly large crowd of other hikers.  However, when the bus arrived it was full!  The stop before ours was at a zoo and it was full of holidaymakers on their way home.  We were told to wait for the next one - in another hour's time, although there would be no guarantee it wouldn't be full up either.  We conferred and considered the possibility of walking to another bus stop on a different route but we all just had hiking maps which didn't show anything as prosaic as a bus stop.  In the end an English couple and I went into the nearby pub and got them to call us a taxi and drank beer while we waited for it.  I ended up getting back to St Helier 2 hours later than planned.  If I'd walked the other way I'd have had no trouble getting a seat on the bus to Rozel Bay and would have got back on schedule but then I'd have ended the walk skirting a power station so perhaps I got the better deal.

I'm considering whether I should walk all around Guernsey next.  There is no need to do so other than because.  I think I would have had a better time here if I'd just walked the north-western and north coasts of Jersey and then spent the other days walking inland routes.  I might even have gotten the chance to see a cow.  I'll talk to Alex tomorrow and find out how much of the coast route around Guernsey is on paths and how much on roads and decide then.

Now, onto the food.  I just had lunch at a pub, the Dolphin, in Gorey.  Fish and chips ordered at the bar with a pint of the local Mary Ann dark ale.  The fish was fillets of plaice and I didn't just get 1 fillet I got 4!  Among the packets of condiments (HP sauce, ketchup, tartare sauce, worcestershire sauce) there was malt vinegar.  Blessed be.  I was tempted to souvenir all the little packets of the stuff.  The fish had clearly been cooked sometime earlier and kept warm under a heat lamp but was tasty (without being too fishy) for all that.

While I was waiting for the bus in Rozel, I stopped at a tea shop for scones with jam and cream and a pot of green tea.  The scone was one of those fruit scone abominations and the tea was English Breakfast.  To be fair to the waitress, the tea bag did have a green label.

I had dinner at the hotel restaurant tonight, the Candlelight.  We also have breakfast served there. It is dimly lit, as if by candlelight, which is romantic at night but rather gloomy at breakfast time.  They have two sittings - one at 6:45pm which seemed to be purely for hotel guests and then another later one at 8:30pm for normal people.  It was amusing to watch them feed us quickly but without making us feel rushed.  They did quite a good job of it but I've never eaten 3 courses quite so quickly before.

As my starter I had a mushroom and leek tart with a blue cheese topping.  It was strongly flavoured without being too rich which was pleasing.  For main I had fillet of bream with ginger and bok choy. This sadly was dull and only tasted of ginger.  The overcooked, reheated fish at lunch was better tasting.  For dessert I had panna cotta with berries.  It turned out to be chocolate panna cotta which, while pleasant, came as a surprise.  In the dim restaurant lighting I didn't realise it was brown and chocolate flavoured until I took a bite.

Now I'm back in my room trying to get everything back into my suitcase.  It all fitted in before!

Day 5 - La Greve de Lecq to Rozel Bay

Beer drunk: 1 pint, 1 stubby, Wine: 0 glasses
Distance walked: 21km, Time taken: 6 hours (excluding lunch break)

Today the decision to walk clockwise to anticlockwise was easy to make.  The clockwise book put the distance from C to D at 19km while the anticlockwise book claimed it was only 13km and recommended breaking the journey further along at D'.  I decided to walk clockwise to D, and then with the help of my trusty GPS (with fresh batteries) choose to walk on to D' or stop once I got there.
I did end up going all the way to D' which was a 21km journey not the 24km the clockwise book claimed.

Lots of up and down today, with spectacular views of rugged bays, dramatic cliffs and the occasional pretty beach.  A total of 1005m in ascents and 995m in descents (which are actually harder).  A not a single km of dull slog along a beach.

A saw a lot of other hikers today as this part of the islands is justly famous for its hiking trails.  Saw plenty completely inadequately dressed (in terms of sensible shoes) for the paths they were attempting.  A couple were wearing those dreadful Crocs.

Besides lots of birds (and other hikers) I didn't see many animals today.  I was quite disappointed.  At one point on the path there was a sign saying they had introduced a special breed of multi-horned sheep (the Manx Loaghtan) into this area as it was the closest to an extinct breed of Jersey sheep that had been once common there.  I saw lots of gorse, heather and bracken but not a single sheep, horned or otherwise.

There were also misleading signs promising killer chickens which failed to deliver.  And I've yet to see a single cow.

I stopped at a country pub at a crossroads, Les Fontaines,  for lunch which was more the type of lunch break I had been expecting.  Unfortunately, it was part of a chain of very conventional pubs and only had big brand name beers on tap, including Fosters (gack!).  I had to settle for a pint of Bass.  You could drink it.  On the plus side, they make a big fuss about being child friendly and having a play area.  When I was there there were only big boys with big boys' toys - i.e. a meeting of a local historical car society so the view of the parking lot was superb.

The food options turned out to be much better than the beer.  I had a steak and kidney pudding and it was a real pudding cooked in a pudding basin.  It might even have been made with proper suet crust pastry.  It was certainly short and crisp enough.  Mind you it have safely been eaten by someone with an aversion to offal. Still it was tasty and I'm pleased to have eaten a real English pudding.

For dinner I went to a Thai place, Siam Garden,  I had noticed on my search for a meal last night.  It was in a small arcade so it was a little off the beaten track.  They were thrilled to see me (there was only 1 other couple in the place when I arrived) and more than happy to serve a solo diner. I had tom yum soup followed by a laab salad and washed it all down with a bottle of Singha beer.  Familiar, almost comfort, food and very tasty it was too.  Freshly cooked and very spicy.  I ordered it medium. I suspect if the hot version would have been suitable for Craig. Possibly a little far for him to travel, even for good Thai food.

Tempted to walk anti-clockwise tomorrow as the last piece into St Helier looks dull.  Lots of road walking as it is quite built up (for Jersey) around here.

Day 4 - Around St Helier

Beer drunk: 0 pints, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: unknown

Today there was a craft fair in St Helier with stalls with items from local artisans and food producers. This sounded rather interesting and I have a spare day so I decided to take it now.  Unfortunately, the fair was very dull.  Half a dozen stalls with nothing much to see or sample.  The highlight was a young Jersey musician playing a guitar and singing to entertain the crowd.  He entertained me but perhaps not in the way he intended as he kept missing the high notes and once managed to forget the words to the song so he had to start over again from the beginning.  And I thought I wasn't much of a morning person!

The locals here are very protective of their islands.  You can't just move here from the UK.  You have to either be the child of a local or married to one or be sponsored here by an employer.  Fairly ordinary conditions.  Where it gets more interesting are on the rules regarding property.  Only locals can buy property and most places can only be rented by qualified residents.  To be qualified you have to have lived here for 5 years.  Where you live while becoming qualified is not clear.  I remember in the first episode of Bergerac, the hero (not a local) is asked if he has somewhere to live. He shrugs and says "no, but you know how it is on Jersey".  Now I understand what he meant. Bergerac still seems popular here.  I heard someone's mobile ring the other day and the ring tone was the theme from that show.

After the disappointing fair I headed out of town to the Samares Manor which is a large property nearby with fantastic gardens.  Below is a picture of the water garden from the top of the waterfall looking down.  They had monstrous gold fish in their pond.  Easily a couple of feet long. I wonder if mine would get as large if my pond was on the same scale as this one.

They also had some other animals, mainly lots of ducks but also some sheep.  They hadn't docked the tails of their sheep.  I've never seen a sheep with a normal tail.  I had no idea that is how a sheep is supposed to look.  I'm definitely a city girl.

The gardens (water, kitchen, long, rose, herb, ...) were lovely but it didn't inspire me to take up gardening as a hobby.  Instead, it has inspired me to win Tattslotto so I can have a large property with an army of gardeners to keep them looking perfect.

I had lunch at the cafe at the manor - a salad of roasted butternut pumpkin, onions and tomatoes with mozzarella and pine nuts and greens.  It was quite good and would have been lovely if the Jersiaise could just get over their fear of vinegar.

After lunch I headed back into St Helier and went to the Maritime museum.  I had great time here. Lots of displays explaining what 'abaft', 'abeam' and 'athwart' mean and how long a fathom is and about watches and dog watches. They also had a model of the brig the (Marie) "Sophie"

and a letter of marque!

They also had a lot of interactive displays to entertain the children (and me).  In one there was a selection of hulls, sails and ballast.  You got to build your own boat and then get it to sail in a large tank of water with a fan blowing at one end.  Mine tended to sink.  There was also another display with a yacht where you could adjust the sails and the angle of the wind (from another fan) to get it to sail from one end to the other.  Mine got becalmed.  One where I wasn't such a useless landlubber was a knot tying display with a the knot properly tied (and glued down) and the same coloured ropes below for you to tie them.  I can now do a reef knot and a bowline!  Don't know when I will ever need them but I now know how.

After this I went to have some genuine Jersey ice cream (apple and cinnamon and toffee crunch) which was pleasant but unexceptional and do a little light shopping.

Heading out for dinner put a dampener on my day.  It was a Saturday night and the town was full of people and solo dinners were not welcome.  The first two places I tried just said they had no tables free. The first I can believe as it was very crowded but the second was half empty.  I hope it stayed that way.  The third said they were terribly sorry but had just given the last table away to the couple who came in before me (I believe that as again it was crowded).  However I was welcome to sit at one of their outside tables if I didn't mind the heat!  It was perhaps 22C after having reached about 25 or so during the day.  As the sun was setting the temperature was dropping so by the end of the meal I was wishing I bought my jacket.  In hindsight I'm guessing the waiter (whose first language was not English)  meant temperature not heat.

The restaurant who did condescend to feed me was the Vecchia Milano.  I started with a huge slab of the home made pate which was quite tasty.  I believe it was home made as the texture was between a pate and a terrine.  The accompanying bread was just regular white sliced bread cut very thinly and toasted with was a bit odd.  For main I had spaghetti bolognese.  Again the serving was enormous and it can with tourist quantities of sauce - i.e. the pasta was swimming in sauce rather than lightly coated. But the sauce was delicious so I didn't complain.  For dessert I had tiramisu.  Again, clearly home made as it was a (very) large spoonful from a big bowl.  It was almost as good as mine but lacked the appropriate dusting of cocoa.

Back to walking for real tomorrow.

Day 3 - La Pulente to La Greve de Lecq

Beer drunk: 500ml (ginger) beer, Wine: 2 glasses
Distance walked: 16km (approx), Time Taken: 4 1/2 hours (approx)

Got an early morning wake up "call" again.  Not a smoke alarm this time.  Instead, it was garbage collection day and restaurants throw out a lot of empty bottles.  Crash, bang, crash, bang, rattle, crash.

Carb loaded at breakfast today - cereal with fruit, toast with marmalade plus yoghurt from bio-dynamic Jersey cows (how do you tell the difference between a dynamic cow and a lethargic one?). They make a big deal about Jersey dairy products here - the butter, the yoghurt and the ice cream. I haven't actually seen a single cow yet so I don't know where they are hiding.

The decision on whether to walk from B to C or in the other direction turned out to be easy to make. When I got to the bus station the bus to B was leaving before the one to C, so clockwise again it was. It turned out to be a good decision as the first 7km was a walk along the beach from one end of St Ouen's Bay to the other.  This was rather dull as the scenery doesn't change much but was surprisingly hard work.  I had this tower ahead of me for about the first half and then receding for the next part.  That was about it.

Lots of happy, wet, sandy dogs being taken for walks.  I saw lots of these strange piles of sand. Presumably from crabs or something like it burying themselves in the sand, although there didn't seem to be anything underneath the piles.

Once I got to the end of the bay the route climbed around the headlands at the north-western corner of the island.  The scenery was spectacular and the cliffs dotted with Neolithic dolmens, an ancient fort and WWII bunkers.  It would have been a real letdown to finish the walk with the dull trudge along the beach rather than the cliffs. Unfortunately, the batteries in my GPS had died so I don't have cute elevation maps.

I had planned to have lunch at a seafood shack in an old bunker at the end of the bay but it turned out it was shut. It was an hour to the next cafe so I regretted not pigging out at breakfast.  Fortunately the next cafe, the Plemont Beach Cafe, was open.  I had crab cakes with salad and chips and 1/2 litre of alcoholic ginger beer.  When I was at the cafe there was also an elderly couple with a professional photographer taking pictures of them.  It wasn't clear what the purpose was.  Some sort of brochure for a cafe or some such it seemed.  Why at that cafe wasn't obvious since they weren't the owners.

I got to the end of the walk 2 minutes before the bus back to St Helier left which was great luck as there is only 1 bus every hour.  Mind you there was a pub next to the bus stop so it wouldn't have been any great hardship to have to wait.

After a wash and brush up at the hotel I went out for some Jersey ice cream and a little shopping. However, Jersey's idea of late night shopping is to stay open until 7pm and they only do that on a Thursday not a Friday like today.  I settled for an early bird dinner at Aromas.  As a solo diner I was once again crammed in at the back of the restaurant next to the bar.  Turned out to be a great location as I got to eavesdrop on the conversations between the front of house woman, the waitress and the woman at the bar who did the drinks and the bills.  They were rushed off their feet but kept it all under control.

Unfortunately the food was a great disappointment.  The ideas were good but the execution poor.  For entree I had baked mushrooms stuffed with goat's cheese on a piece of garlic bread.  The goat's cheese was bland - not an accusation that is often levelled at such a cheese.  The bread was from a french baguette and just disintegrated from the moisture in the cheese and mushroom.  For main I had grilled fillets of plaice with prawns and lemon butter.  This was good but the accompanying roasted veg was 1 piece of carrot (i.e. not a whole one), 1 piece of parsnip, 1 floret of broccoli and 2 pieces of Jersey royal potato.  Harmless if a little sparse so to bulk it out there was also a big bowl of chips, which was just bizarre.  Why not just a bigger serving of veg?  Some oil, garlic or herbs or some flavouring on the veg would have been pleasant too. Dessert was a raspberry and whiskey creme brulee.  However, there were no obvious traces of raspberry or whiskey in it and the custard had curdled.

Better luck tomorrow hopefully.

Day 2 - St Helier to La Pulente

Beer drunk: 1 pint, Wine: 2 glasses

Distance Walked: 21km, Time Taken: 6 hours (not counting a 1 hour break for lunch)

I had planned to sleep in this morning.  After all, I am on holiday.  However, fate had other plans. This is a non-smoking hotel but one of the other guests didn't want to wait until they were washed and dressed before smoking their first cigarette.  They snuck a quick smoke in their bathroom with the extractor fan going. This just spread the smoke throughout the hotel's ventilation system and set of the smoke alarm.  On the plus side, I can be confident there is no chance of burning to death in my sleep.

I had my first full English breakfast, including black pudding (so black even the white bits were black).  This was far more food than I needed but I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

I then set off to walk clockwise around the island, with my first day's walk being the first quarter to La Pulente.  The inital part, to St Aubin, was very dull as it was along the waterfront on a broad, tarmac promenade.  I felt very silly in my full on hiking get-up with boots and hiking poles when everyone else coming towards me was in their regular working clothes as they were headed into the office. I felt like I ought to be telling people I wasn't being pretentious and all the gear really was necessary.

Once the route passed St Aubin it got more interesting as it left roads and pavement and headed off onto proper hiking paths.  The whole route went around headlands from one bay to the next, sometimes dropping down into the bay to walk along the beach, while sometimes keeping to the cliffs above.  The elevation map below shows the path I took.  All up I climbed about 450m and descended by roughly the same amount.  The map looks like it was harder work than it actually was due to the scale.  The steepest climb was only around 70m.  I'm impressed that I managed to start below sea level.

The photo below shows perhaps the steepest bit of path which was a doddle compared to the Amalfi Coast.

The weather was wonderful, pleasantly warm (low 20s) and sunny.  It did cloud over briefly in the afternoon and look as if it might rain, but after 15 minutes it decided it was too much effort and didn't bother but went back to being sunny.

The beaches here are lovely - see the photo of Beauport Beach below.  You are free to feel envious.

The only drawback here are the tides, which are serious.  They move a lot of water in a very short amount of time.  Below is a photo of Janvin's Tomb, as small rocky island just off one of the beaches. You can walk out to it at low tide but the causeway is underwater at other times.  From the picture you can see the causeway.  By the time I got down to the beach (about 10 minutes later) it was entirely underwater.  There were signs warning you that if you got stranded you were to wait until the tide receded as the currents were so strong it wasn't safe to try to swim or wade back to shore.

I stopped at St Brelade for lunch.  I had hoped to stop at a pub but St Brelade is renowned for having the best beach on the island and all the accommodation and most of the shops were suitably upmarket.  I settled on fish and chips from the Crab Shack which I washed down with a pint of a local dark ale, the Mary Ann Best.   The beer was excellent but the fish and chips, which came with peas and a side salad (look Ma, I am eating my veg), was just adequate.   They had a distinct dislike of vinegar.  There was only tomato sauce (ketchup!) as a condiment for the chips and the salad was dressed with oil.  They may have waved the cork of a vinegar bottle over it (assuming they have such things) but didn't bother actually pouring any of the stuff on the lettuce leaves.  It's not that expensive.

After lunch I tottered off to finish of my day's walk - tottering being the active word as I'd stiffened up after sitting down for an hour.  I still managed to make it to La Pulente, arriving 1 whole minute before the bus back to St Helier.  It was rather demoralising to spend 6 hours walking from A to B and then a whole 30 minutes on the bus to get back to A.  It rather spoils one's sense of achievement.

After a long soak in the bath at my hotel, I once again tottered off, this time just next door to dinner at the hotel's bistro, Doran's Bistro.  The windows of my room are at the very right, above the bow window.  On the menu tonight were flirtatious Irish waiters which was most pleasing.  However, I was given a very nice table in the corner by the toilets, which was not.  The joys of solo dining. The more upmarket the restaurant, the more they segregate their customers by class.

For my entree I had crab and smoked salmon.  The crab was a puck of crab meat with mayonnaise on a toasted brioche bun with a large piece of smoked salmon underneath it.  This was a little disappointing as the flavour of the smoked salmon overwhelmed the more delicate crab.  For my main course I had pork belly with beef tenderloin and a red wine jus (aka gravy), with cabbage, mashed potatoes and rhubarb chutney.  The beef had been wrapped in bacon and then cooked just long enough to make the bacon crisp so it was very tender (as it should be given it was basically raw). The crackling on the pork was very good but the pork itself was a little dry.  The cabbage was very tasty as it had been clearly fried in some tasty fat - pork at a guess.  The mash had had a close relationship with a lot of cream and butter, so it was very fine.  In short, everything on the plate was tasty but it wasn't obvious why they all needed to be served together.  You could have left off the beef and the gravy and still had a very good dish, but an ordinary one I suppose.  For dessert I had a black cheery (sic) and raspberry brulee which was excellent.   I washed this all down with 2 glasses of Grange (du Midi).

A so to bed.  Tomorrow I have to decide do I walk from B to C or from C back to B.  I have two guide books.  One does the route clockwise (hence B to C) and the other anticlockwise.  I used the former today.  Perhaps I should give the latter a try.