Sark (part two)

No cars are allowed on Sark, so alternative modes of transport are necessary.  An important money-spinner for the island is the army of people who provide tours on a horse and trap.  I went on one back in 2011 during a family holiday, and can attest to it being a very peaceful, informative and entertaining way to see the sights.  On this occasion were were on Shanks's Pony, however, which gave me the opportunity to look at the horse's head rather than its back-side...

One of the picturesque rows of cottages on the island.

The Barclay Brothers have polarised opinion on Sark: firstly by purchasing the neighbouring island of Brecqhou; then by building a monstrous castle on it (as befits their collective ego); and, finally, by gradually attempting to take over Sark itself.  This they have done by buying up large tracts of land and planting vines on them, as well as building - and then closing - expensive hotels.  They sound like thoroughly nice people...

We walked to La Coupée, which is a narrow strip of land linking Sark and Little Sark.

Carol stopped to take a picture of the landscape...

...while Paul decided to concentrate on the local wildlife instead.

Speaking of wildlife, there was a pod of dolphins in the bay.  This is a tiny crop from an image using the longest lens at my disposal (a 70-200), but I'm fairly sure there were 5 or 6 animals in the pod.

Paul was well into Natural History mode by now, and decided to have a go at another of the wild inhabitants of the island.

OK - not exactly wild...

Some more pictures showing other forms of transport used on Sark.  Bicycles are everywhere, and so are tractors: the only motor vehicle allowed on the island.  Tractors are used for every conceivable purpose, including the island's "ambulance".

Sark (part one)

After two days of wall-to-wall Lightroom and Photoshop workshops on Thursday and Friday respectively, Saturday was a photographic outing to the beautiful island of Sark.  Because the 10:00 ferry was fully booked, we opted for the 08:00 sailing instead.  This turned out to be a cunning plan, as the weather was reasonable during the early part of the day.

When the going gets tough, the tough have breakfast.  Actually this was second breakfast, as some of us had grabbed a bacon butty (or even a "Full English") at a cafe in St Peter Port harbour before setting off.  By now the sun had gone in, but the parasols were doing a fine job of keeping the rain off our camera gear.

One of the shops in "The Village" was displaying an assortment of top hats in a variety of colours.  Perhaps they're for the tourists, as I can't for the life of me imagine why the locals would want one.

The rain had started in earnest now, so we decided to shelter in St Peter's Church.  Rather stupidly, in an attempt to travel light I had decided to leave my tripod at home.  Bad move, but I still managed to get a few shots of the interior.

This is Carol, very generously sharing her bean bag with those of us who were less well prepared.

The rain eventually eased off, so we started to go for a walk around the island.  The final picture of this set is Sark's prison - with a bicycle for scale.

Guernsey Beaches

After arriving in Guernsey, and before my workshops started, we spent the afternoon going on a tour around the island.  The following pictures were from Pembroke Bay, which is where I went on holiday as a child in the late '60s.

Carl, demonstrating the advanced photographic technique of standing on a sea wall without falling off.

A peculiarly Guernsey phenomenon: Hedge Veg.

After the second day of workshops it was clear there was going to be a good sunset, so we headed to Cobo Bay on the west of the island for a late afternoon walk.  This is a really beautiful place where the locals go for fish and chips on a Friday evening, traditionally eaten while leaning against the sea wall and watching the sun go down.  It's a tough life.

Carl, who - like me - is a Fuji "X" enthusiast.

As always, I find it impossible to resist anything canine...

The lady below was clearly known to the gulls as they started to collect as soon as she appeared.  All hell broke loose when she threw a handful of bread into the air!

The pictures below give an idea of quite how warm it was on the beach that evening.

I'd kill to live somewhere I could eat fish and chips on a Friday evening on a beach while watching the sun go down...

Poole to St Peter Port

After a stupidly early start from Southampton, it was all aboard the Condor Liberation for the 07:30 crossing from Poole to St Peter Port.  Suitably fortified by a bacon sandwich I went out on deck to take in the view.  It was blustery to say the least (the ferry travels at around 35 knots) and only two other people were brave (stupid?) enough to be outside.  As can be deduced from the pictures, although the sun was shining it certainly wasn't warm!

Most happy snappers decided to stay inside and shoot through the windows from the comfort of the lounge.

Those who know me will be aware of my penchant for interesting signage.  Condor Ferries clearly employed someone with both imagination and a sense of humour to design theirs.

One advantage of sailing early was that we had arrived in St Peter Port by just after 10:30.  An easy and pleasant crossing, leaving us plenty of time to go exploring in the afternoon.

Southampton in Monochrome

At the beginning of September, just before heading to Guernsey to run a week of workshops, I took Izzi (along with all her clobber) back to Southampton, ready for the new University term.  After a hard day's shopping, I managed to wander around for an hour or so with my camera in the late summer sun.

The statue is of Louis Mountbatten (of Burma fame).

Sadly the beer and pizza shops were closed, although I know which one I'd have frequented if they'd been open.

The final shot is just round the corner from where Izzi lives, in a very pleasant part of Southampton which is within easy walking distance of the centre.

The following morning I left Southampton at 04:30, heading to Poole for the early morning ferry sailing to St Peter Port.