Military Might and Orchids

We thought we should learn more aboutWWII The twins still have nightmares from an earlier visit to La Vallee Museum, based in a German Underground Hospital excavated by slave labour. So instead we cycled the German Occupation Museum and then to Pleinmont Observation Tower.

The man who admitted us to Pleinmont Observation Tower was the same person who had taken our money only hours earlier at the German Occupation Museum so I imagine WWII heritage is preserved by a small and dedicated band of people.  Locally this man was a star having produced the introduction to the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie film which was out this year.  However, he did admit that it was only the Channel Islands version of the film which had his introduction.   

The tower itself had the purpose of monitoring plane and ship movements out to sea, although thrown up in a matter of months by the Germans and with an emphasis on being secure, even against gas attack, it was still an elegant example of brutalist architecture.  However, whether this souvenir of the Nazi occupation will ever be admired more than it is hated is hard to imagine.

In complete contrast to all this history of ruthless military aggression, there was something else I very much wanted to see.  Googling, Pascoe and I had discovered by chance that 1)There was a spectacular wild Guernsey orchid.  2) It was in bloom now, 3) There were some fields near the coast where it thrived.

It sounded like a potential wild goose chase to Nigel but I was determined, and we pedalled to the right area.

I eventually spotted the exotic purple flowers over a hedge and slammed my brakes on to much swearing behind me.  

The loveliness of these lush, flower-tapestry water meadows  was beyond me to describe.  Suffice it to say that there were four types of orchid including the loose-flowered Guernsey orchid, and also delicate ragged robin, yellow bartsia and yellow flag irises.  It is not promoted to tourists so, apart from one other equally astounded couple, we had the meadows to ourselves. Maybe Heaven will be a bit like that.

We ended the day by playing Frisbee on the beach then had a glass of Prosecco while the sun sank behind a rocky island.

At sunset, the tide had dropped enough to allow us to clamber across to the island, just in time to see the sea flush rose.

PHOTOS BY CARENZA

Family Holiday - Guernsey - setting off

We never know when it'll be the last holiday when we succeed in enticing all the children with us, but we managed it this year.

Got up at 5.15am, rolled out of the house into the heavily laden car.

There were the usual holiday happenings – Five of us had to fit in the car so I  had weighed up carefully my choice of clothes and laid out my outfit so I didn’t have to take any decisions while befuddled in the early morning.  I got dressed but left my jumper, intending to put it on just as I exited the house.  At the point of departure, it was nowhere to be found.  Five adults searched every room.  Clearly aliens had abducted my pullover.

Nigel had allowed loads of time for the drive and we arrived in plenty of time. But parked tightly on the ferry we had the usual scramble to prize ourselves out of the car with our bulky daysacks, plus phones, books, computers and not quite enough hands.  It was as if, even after queuing on the tarmac for half an hour, we had never guessed this moment would come.  We Hobbas are also the people in supermarket queues who look surprised when asked to pay for our goods and spend a long time looking for our wallets.

As we boarded, I said to Perran, “Really feels like we’re on holiday now.  Wouldn’t it be amazing if we saw dolphins?”

On the ferry, mist closed in and there was an announcement not to worry as the ferry foghorn sounded.  I began to hum the Titanic theme.  Hackneyed, I know but worth it for a view of the occasional truly worried rolling-eyed passenger.

But then, a miracle, on the way into St Peterport harbour.

Six to eight dolphins accompanied the ferry in, riding in the bow wave and the wake, leaping completely out of the water.

This was going to be a great holiday. 

Later, from our holiday cottage, we wandered along the sand of Cobo Bay.  West-facing, the sunsets are legendary, but not when the sea mist rolls in.

But that didn’t stop the beach art.  Nigel and Pascoe made a henge.  Perran inscribed a huge organic pattern in the sand with his feet.  I made a watercolour of Cobo Bay in the mist and Carenza took photos.