OUR  first whole day in Tarifa was spent reuniting with the swimmers we met 3 years ago in Sardinia. Brothers Chris ( London) and Ben ( USA)  , Dan from the USA,  Yves from  Swimtrek and Chris G from London. It’s also great to be with Lisa and John Donati, Jordan’s parents and Cameron Rob’s friend from Brisbane.

We met and there was a lot of discussion about logistics of the swim. Which swimmers would make up the two teams. We thought it was settled, but the next morning it changed again and finally the teams are Yellow- Chris and Ben, Yves and Dan. Red team Steve and Rob, Cameron and Chris G. It’s hard because they are different speeds but for the swim they must stay together.

Steve and Rob will probably be the only father and son to do the Gibralter swim which is pretty special. They had a meeting with Rafael who is the main organiser of the swim. He is very particular which I guess you have to be when it’s such a difficult swim. It all depends on the currents and the pilot of the boat will give them instructions on when to push harder  and use the current. There are 3 possible landing points in Morocco. If the currents sweep them too fast and they miss the first then they add a km or two to their journey. Oh boy. It’s sounds so hard and there are a few nerves around and that’s just from the supporters. We keep looking across at Morocco and asking WHY!

The day finally came for the yellow team and we all went to the port to see them off. I even became “Miss Vasolina”  and got to rub the vasoline in to prevent chaffing. Quite a job on all those muscles!

Rubbing Yves with Vasoline.

The Yellow team. Yves, Ben, Dan and Chris.  
The day then became a waiting game and using ship tracking watching where they were. We started waiting –  at a very nice cafe by the beach. Everything was white. Really restful and beautiful.

The white beach cafe. Very pleasant. Check out the breakfast with a view. Not bad at all.

To fill in the time the girls went shopping and I bought a very nice maxi dress and a top. All very reasonable. Had a delicious tapas lunch, they were still swimming ……..  a short nap……… They were still swimming  Went for a walk …………they were still swimming.  Until finally at 4.33pm I got the message from Yves. They had finished. Yves and Dan did it in 5 hr 35 mins and Chris and Ben the brothers did 5hr 42min. The last kilometre they can do a sprint ( as if you’d have any energy left in the tank!) 
So we went to the wharf and waited and waited and at nearly 6pm they arrived back. Smiling. Also  a huge effort by John Donati who went on the rubber duck as the support person and did the feedings and water bottles   – a job I’ll be doing tomorrow. Jordan will also come along and take photos. 

 

The jubilant yellow team. Do they look any different? They were tired and happy it was over but brimming with stories of fish – tuna and huge fish they thought were sharks but weren’t.

So tonight a celebration for them and a waiting game for our team. Wish Steve and Rob, Cameron and Chris good luck and let’s hope they aren’t in the water for 5 and a half hours. Rob is figuring on about 4 to 4 1/2. Fingers crossed.

Chris M from today’s swim wishes Chris G on tomorrow’s swim the best of luck.

One big bonding session.

We made our early morning flight to Gibraltar and were in our riad by lunch. It’s just a lovely oasis in a busy little seaside town where young people seem to dominate possibly because it’s the wind surfing capital if the world. Fortunately the wind is not so “UP” at the moment so will be good for the swimmers. 

 

 
  
Rob and U.S. Ben getting kitted out 

   
Jordan. Chris , Steve, Yves and Chris G getting the team shorts and checking maps. 

  
Morocco is that way. And the water is cold

  
Cameron and Rob make a splash. 

  
One of the smaller beaches in Tatifa. No wind breaks here. Just lots of tanned skin. 

  
Tarifa street scenes

  
Main esplanade. 

    
LUNCH ! 

A beach day in Jersey: We treated ourselves to a slower start this morning as we were staying on Jersey to do some exploring. As usual it started out cloudy but as the day wore on it fined up beautifully. We caught the bus to the Living Legends: The story of Jersey an interactive kind of show with holograms and characters telling us about the history of Jersey. It starred the Inspector from Midsomer Murders which only reinforced the feeling I got on Sark. 

We then had a bus mishap and changed our plans to visit the vey north and opted instead for the beaches bus. We ended up at Ouen Beach, which also has a War Museum – in a bunker and is a collection of things German and told the story of the occupation of Jersey. There were narrated stories as you wandered the rooms of the bunkers. These were very interesting – especially the one about a poor man who had tied a message to a pigeons leg only to have the pigeon end up in enemy hands. They executed him!   The man not the pigeon. 

  
We stopped on the way back at St Brelade’s Bay. Gorgeous afternoon and all the action was at the beach. Picture this: White deck chairs supporting white and red bodies in various states of sunburn, cricket games like in Australia, people of all ages licking Jersey soft ice cream – a local favourite, people at the beach side bars drinking wine, kids running, people with handkerchiefs knotted around their heads, some people swimming but many lined up to have a ride on the Aqua planes being towed. Generally a typical Australian beach scene. Steve braved to cool water as it looked so inviting. Her swam around the bay past some yachts moored in the bay. Such a beautiful scene. 

Late lunch time for us at a Cafe overlooking the sand. We wondered about starting a desk chair rental business at Kings beach. They sure are popular here. 

Late afternoon we packed up and returned to the hotel before dinner which turned out to be a search. 

 

 
 

  St Brelades Bay

 Tried a few places but they were closed. Found one overlooking the harbour with plenty of tables but at 8.15 the manager said they were too busy. A little annoyed we went back down the stairs through the bar area where a man sitting in the courtyard asked were we wanting food. We answered yes and he said try up stairs. We answered we had just be turned away from there. Turns out he was the owner! He didn’t look happy and apologised and then wanted to take us up himself and get us a table, but we declined and he pointed us across the square to the yacht club hotel where we both had a great meal. So all good in the end. 

  

Just had to quickly share our dinner tonight. 

We were feeling a little tired so didn’t want to go far from our hotel,  so checked out the restaurant nearby. It was Portuguese. So in we go and a very nice man welcomed us. Turns out he’s  Portuguese and told us there are up to 15,000 Portuguese living on Jersey! 

The food was good and reminded me of our New Year in Portugal,  the year we spent Christmas with Pete and Rob in Lisbon then travelled around the country. We had New Year in a small place called Viseu. I had one of their kebab type thing which comes out on a big skewer on a big hanging frame. Tonight I ordered the same thing. See the photo 

 

 
Just as the waiter was bringing it out,  the door to the small restaurant opened and in walked a fully kitted up Policeman ( police station is just up the road ). He walks in and nearly bumped the waiter carrying this deadly looking skewer ( see skewer with chicken on it ! ) . Mr Policeman sidesteps,  then knocks over a chair. Everyone looked. He apologised and the waiter , who by this time was at our table with the skewer replied. “Anymore of that and I’ll call the Police”. Well everyone just broke up! The Policeman laughed then asked for the order he’d phoned in from the station. When it wasn’t ready he said he’d have to report him if it wasn’t ready soon and now he wanted extra chips. Policeman left and returned 15 mins later to a small round of applause. 

Another earlier start and a quick trot to Albert Wharf. We joined the queue for the tickets only to be serenaded by a choir. This time not the retired life boat seniors but a group of young guys ( turns out it was a 21st) dressed in Sark caps, shorts, some held up with braces , blazers,   holding bottles of beer ( 8am remember ) and water bottles  which appreared to hold not water but something much more swiggable ! Oh it was to be a fun journey. 

Arriving at the wharf in Sark you can pay 1£ to go in the tractor train to the top of the hill and the village. It’s a very steep climb so the tractor got my knees vote. Sark is unique and quite lovely with some of e very best views you could see. It’s also like stepping back in time. 

 
  
The place is special because it has no cars. A few tractors , horse and cart and bikes. It’s so lovely and quiet. No paving. All dirt lanes zig zag across the green fields with sweeping views and glimpses of ocean. Lots of little stone cottages and with a population of 600 a few shops, cafes, PO but nothing too touristy. 

We wandered along leafy lanes rounding corners to find sheep or a horse. We took a horse cart tour and loved the feeling of clip clopping down the quiet lanes. We met a couple on our cart who have lived in Jersey, an hour away, for their whole lives and had never been to Sark before. First time for everything. Sark is also unique because it is a dark island meaning they have no street or public lighting. Star gazing would be amazing. 

 

 
  
  
  
  
We happened upon a soccer match on the village green and it was like a scene out of Midsomer Murders. 

After lots of walking and our cart ride we made our way back towards to wharf for our 5pm return. We hadn’t seen anything of the birthday boys and the few girls they had managed to find but then we heard them. In the beer garden closest to the top of the village. Not sure if they get further in or not.  They were very second hand by then and we had to laugh when we heard one hapless lad Josh had done something worth reporting to the Police. They were at the pants pulling down stage when we saw them. They did make the ferry though and were really not bad at all on the way back. 

We spotted much healthier lads  at  Sark harbour  – crews who had rowed over from Jersey 22 km away. They came rowing in as we were about to board. Much clapping and I’m sure a few drinks were coming their way.  Steve was starting to feel a bit apprehensive at the thought that by next Wednesday he could be in the water swimming an almost equal distance ! 

 

 
  
So back on the boat and now out for dinner. It’s exhausting being on holidays. 

 

 
   
 
  
  
  
  

We had the morning in Jersey then headed off for Guernsey. The ferries only run certain days to the islands so it pays to check. Steve bought our tickets online and we were in club car! A bit like premium economy. It’s worth it as the ferries are busy this time of year. 

The safety message was the best ever heard. It was done as a rap between 3 characters. The Captain, purser and hostess. Very catchy, very funny. 

Guernsey is smaller than Jersey and has a lovely harbour full of sailing boats. It must have the most enormous tides. The harbours stone walls are very high and we saw the evidence of the tides when we left in the evening and lots of the moored boats were sitting on mud. 

After picking up a bus timetable we set off exploring the island. We’d heard that catching buses was the best way go. So onto the No. 92 going anti- clockwise round the island. First stop Pembroke Bay. It’s a wide bay and as the sun came out was beautiful. Blue water, pale sand, rocky backdrop and lots of coloured portable windbreaks. We take an umbrella to the beach here they take their own windbreak and deck chair! 

There was only 1 restaurant/ cafe so we snared a front table near the sea wall and enjoyed lobster salad for me and lobster club sandwich for Steve. Washed down with Rose. Yum

We watched the swimmers and Steve was a bit envious as he hadn’t brought his swimmers, thinking it was looking too overcast in the morning. Amazing how it warms up. We spotted two women wearing lolly pink caps, breast stroking from one side of the bay to the other. A long swim. We ate our whole lunch – about an hour – while they swam. We chatted to them as we made our way back to the bus stop for the next part of the ride around the island. They swim all year. Water temp 16 at the moment. Brave ladies. 

We continued getting on and off as the views struck us. A beer here, a walk there, a coffee, a chat  but still no ice cream. 

Arrived back late and tired. Settling into our new hotel listening to the jazz pianist downstairs in the courtyard. Very pleasant. 

On the way to St Malo we stopped in Dinan. A wonderful medieval town. It is very well preserved and a delight to walk through – though somewhat crowded.

We wandered the streets taking photos and enjoying the buskers. There was a medieval attired lady playing an ancient medieval looking instrument,  a guitarist, a singer and several children dancing along.

We sat in the gardens in front of the church and ate our lunch: a baguette for Steve and salad for me,  watching the tourists walking by and checking out their foot ware. It’s beyond me how some people walk around all day in heels or wedges or flats that look worn out.

We pulled ourselves up trying not to complain about sore knees( that would be me – Steve has had his knee replaced and has no pain!) back to the car and off to St Malo.

I really wanted to visit here having just read a great book set here during the 2nd World War. “All the light I can not see” by Anthony Doerr. It was about a young blind girl and her father who fled Paris and stayed in St Malo with an uncle. A corresponding story about a young German boy brought them together in St Malo. Such a great book. I wish I had passages photocopied to see if I can find the places described. I know I’ll be looking.

So look we did. We found the beach area and all the sunbathing English and French. It’s a great tidal part of the channel and there were some funny signs around about safe bathing ( swimming to us) We walking along the ramparts and looked out to sea and saw lots of  sailing boats dotted around. Also across to another beach nearby with its sand sailing. Children in rockpools, kids playing shuttlecock, soccer, nine pins. Not a cricket or touch game to be seen. No boggie boards either. But I did notice a lot of striped shirts. Sailor type but plain and lovely and known as the Breton sea shirt. Very popular here and in all the shops. I love a stripe. In fact I had my striped t shirt on but felt very inferior as it wasn’t the real thing. –   a Breton Blue.

We decided on one of the many little seafood restaurants For dinner and Steve decided to have the famous Moules and frites ( muscles and chips) I had a really nice piece of white grilled fish and rice. Very simple and very nice. We didn’t have gelato a we walked back to the hotel. I must be changing with the gluten free eating. Don’t seem to feel like it. But people around us certainly were indulging. They were eating some of the biggest ice creams I have even seen.

Our walk back to the hotel allowed us to check out more buskers and the one that won our prize was the group of life boat service gentlemen ( called corsairs). They were a group of about 12 older gentlemen dressed in navy shirts singing great selection of rousing songs. The audience loved them. They even had their own cd. Steve has decided perhaps the masters men of Met Caloundra surf club could form a choir to do similar performances along the beach. I wonder if people would throw money in their caps!

Must get an early night tonight. Tomorrow we have a taxi booked to take us to the port for the ferry to Jersey one of the Channel Islands.

Great night sleep due to the fact I dispensed with the
beautiful doona and used my sarong. Has anyone else noticed the use of a quilt/ doona in hotels and B&B without the top sheet. The one last night was beautiful linen, light weight but for me too hot. I meant to ask for an extra sheet but that probably would have suffered in translation. Usually I take the doona out of the sheet cover its in and just use that. But last night it was warm and all I needed was my sarong over me. Perfect ! 
We enjoyed our lovely breakfast where I’m sure Estée, our hostess, thinks I’m strange because I can’t eat her croissant or baguette. I explained I was allergic! But that is probably unheard of here in the land of the beautiful baguette. 

Then off on the road with a few stops. St Lo which isn’t very pretty mainly because it suffered terribly in the war and then Sainte Mare Eglise where there is a very good museum devoted to the paratroopers during the war. The church still has a parachute caught on its room with a model of a soldier dangling, to re enact what happened to an American paratrooper during the Normandy invasion. 

Then onto Mont St Michel. It looks like a fairytale as you approach. Gorgeous in the just breaking sunlight. We were going to make this our stop for the night but with a ferry from StMalo in the morning thought it would be better to stay there and just visit Mont St Michel.

 It involves car parking 3 km from the Mont and catching a shuttle to the gates of the old town. What we hadn’t quite anticipated were the crowds. You would think we were visiting Disneyland. Hundreds of people. Herded onto shuttle buses and slowing driving towards this amazing place. But when we got there it was more crowed than Disneyland on a busy day. We climbed to the top and then back down and left without the lunch we were planning to get there. Way too busy. My advice :,if you want to go there book in to a hotel on the Mont, arrive late in the afternoon, and enjoy the peace and quiet when the crowds have left for the day. It’s looks like a magical place in the quiet. 

We enjoyed a nice dinner at La Petit Nomande, starting with a coupe de Champagne ( Jann was thinking of you as I drank it) 

The restaurant was crowded and we played the “guess where they are from ” game. The young couple behind us shared a large plate of  oysters which Steve suggested would be a nice aphrodisiac! They were otherwise shy and conservative – English! The couple behind us – he had a shaved  head with sunnies perched on top. She was dressed in something like I would wear. Australian? No Canadian! Table next to us. Father with loud voice, quiet mother , two neat  sons. Blessed themselves and said Grace. I’ll let you guess where they were from. All answers accepted. 

Steve enjoyed oysters. ( he’s asleep right now) followed by pork. I had salmon mouse followed by chicken with cider sauce. All very nice. 

We walked home via the Cathedral square as the light show was starting. So another photo to remind you of the fun we had last night.