My last week in Guernsey went by quickly as all the weeks did really. Days which started around 7am with the sound of a wee girl yelling from her room 'Bronieeee, Broooonnn, Bronie' as an indication I should go and get her out of her bed. She did that from about the second day I arrived, for some reason thinking it was automatically my job to get her up every morning rather than her dad's who had been doing quite a competent job of it since she was born. Then it was 'yogurt ginger please', her treat and breakfast of weet-a-fix, (weetabix - like weetbix only with an a in the middle and pronounced with an 'f'). school uniform, is it a swimming or ballet day requiring special bags, then a little play before the ambling walk to school, greet the dog, greet the teachers and then off into the classroom.
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| Melrose Ladies College |
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| Miss Evie outside her classroom |
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| Pre-school classroom |
It is such a lovely school, made even more lovely each day by the teachers in the pre-school Mrs. Dodd and Mrs. Reynolds - the loveliest teachers you could ever imagine and better still they think the 'minx' as they call Evie is hilarious. Every lunch time I got a story about something funny she had done that morning.
Cherie was determined that I should get to Sark, the 4th largest Channel Island - she knows Papa has read a bit about it and she wanted me to go so I could take him back some photos. We planned on my last Friday and it dawned a little grey but not foggy so I got on the ferry at 10am and travelled the 40 minutes to the island.
Everything you ever wanted to know about Sark and more is in the page attached:
For those who didn't think they wanted to know much Sark is a self governing island of around 600 people, until 2 years ago it had a feudal lord governing it, the Seigneur who had all the powers of your average feudal lord dating back to 1565. Strangely no one seemed to mind that too much and everyone got along quite happily until the winds of change started to blow through when a couple of millionaire twin brothers, the Barclays, invested millions in a few of the local hotels, built themselves their own castle and started to make noises about changes. Enough people agreed with them (but by no means all) and the island became a democracy. Things are changing but not all at once, there are still no cars on the island - just cycles, tractors (only for farming business and only two people on each one - no nipping down the shops on the John Deere) and horses (plus carriages for the tourists). It is surprisingly peaceful and very beautiful, even in the late winter/early spring. It is quiet (except for the chug chug of the tractors coming up behind you) and wind swept, but on a good day I think it would be like paradise. Not the tropical version admittedly but a very english version.I really enjoyed my day and I'm so glad Cherie encouraged me to go.
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| Sark Harbour |
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| The sign says it all |
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Walk up from the harbour - 10minutes
Drive up on back of tractor - 5 minutes |
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| Main Street Sark- no tarseal here |
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| Another cafe homage to Victor Hugo |
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| The lovely post office |
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All the forms of transport in one place
horse, cycle, tractor and on foot |
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Thats the current Seigneur wandering home
from the ferry!! |
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The house where the 'surrender' was signed
at the ned of WWII |
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| Local stone cottages |
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| Winston, my tour guide |
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Pure Guernsey cows (the last one was protected by the
locals by hiding her on Little Sark during the war) |
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Through to the walled garden at the
Seigneurs House |
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| La Seigneurie |
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| Sorry, but they are lovely |
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Apparently the Seigneur likes a little cannon target practice
on the front lawn |
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| A little more humble, the first store on the island (200 years old) |
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| From La Coupee |
