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 tractor tram

Amazing views from Sark

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. 

clip clop country lane

Down a leafy lane

More stripes, more Rose!with crab !

Lots of walking but well worth it.

Cute stone cottages.

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 ! 

one of the rowing crews from Jersey

They made it

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. 

Blue and white stripes.

Medieval Dinan

Street scene Dinan

Medieval houses.

Guess who

Beach life in St Malo

Gorgeous afternoon in St Malo

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.

Life boat volunteers sing up a storm

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.

Highlight today: thr view of Mont St Michel

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. 

Amazing Mont St Michel

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. 

First stop today , after a lovely breakfast, was the very famous Bayeux Tapestry.

I’ve been so looking forward to seeing magnificent tapestry ( actually it’s an embroidery). It’s 70 metres long and depicts the events leading up to the Norman conquest in England in 1066. It show young Harold who was a very naughty boy and didn’t keep his word to William leading to an invasion and his eventual death. This whole story is embroidered on this linen piece and stretched around a dark gallery. It’s well presented.  I though everyone would be jostling for a position to see it but the clever French line you up and give you an audio which guides you through at a comfortable pace. Everyone get to see and hear  it’s a win win situation.

Then it was off to our own practically prepared invasion of the five beaches making up the landings of the Normandy DDay invasions on 6June 1944. Such a lot to see and take in. We started with the museum and Memorial in Bayeux then we drove the 20km to the coast for our invasion of the 5 beaches. It was a huge feat of organisation but I must say the beaches were much easier for the landing than the poor Australians had at Gallipoli. The information is presented in different ways: French – Charles de Gaulle ( the French were the bravest) or American ( we saved the day) or English ( it’s all in meticulous preparation. ) kind of way. Very interesting and I’ve learned a lot. Steve had a swim at the middle of the five beaches startling the people and the lifeguards by swimming out and around one of the “mulberries” part of the false harbour the English created. It wasn’t far – well not for our Steve.

We finished with a visit to American Cemetery a magnificent place overlooking Omaha Beach. Very moving place set in wonderful gardens with simple white marble crosses. All 9,000 of them.

Now im listening to more beautiful bell ring g telling me it’s wine o’clock. So off I go to meet Steve at the nearby bar – he couldn’t wait for me to finish!

Looking towards Arramanches where Steve swam around one of this things you can see in the water!

Steve off for his D Day swim

The beautiful American War Cemetries.

Saw this little chap and it reminded me of our very significant contribution to the war.

It never ceases to make me sad to see the loss of life.

Our last night in this wonderful little village and it wasn’t without incident ! 

We did our usual wander around checking out menus and selected Medieval on a corner at the entrance to the village. It had a lovely garden courtyard and was perfect until the rain! We scrambled inside along with the others which made it hot. So after the rain stopped out we went again and then …… 

Drama. A big truck tried to fit up the little street. There was a bollard in the middle of the little cobbled road. But that didnt  stop him …….boom went a tyre. Crash went the bollard and whoosh. Off drove the truck. 

At least he created a drama and had everyone in the little restaurant courtyard chatting like old friends. 

But next morning the workers were there fixing it.