After having my fill of penguins – there being only so much you can take in of the same scene no matter how many different angles and ways you look at it (I had attempted to suck them into my memory banks. There was nothing more that could be achieved) I wandered off to take in the scenery. That was almost as magical. This was summer in the Falklands. You could tell that because we only needed one jumper and a single jacket and waterproof. We were assured by Jamie that this was an outstanding day. The sun was shining and it wasn’t too windy. As I peered over the desolate bay I wondered what it might be like on this desolate island in winter.
The bay was beautiful. The sea was blue and the sand was white. The light was soft and clear creating a spectacular pastel effect. It reminded me of the light out in the Orkneys. It had that same delicate quality.
I watched as the waves crashed in and the wind whipped the spray off them. There were two penguins standing on the beach studying the waves. I imagined them as a pair of friends discussing the weather. I had a walk around, took a few photos and soaked up the beauty.
It was time to head for the fabled sea-cabbage café and museum for a warming cup of tea and slice of home-made cake. The tea was as English as you could ge and the cake tasted as if it had been baked by a branch of the Women’s Institute.
I wandered round the museum and marvelled at the wool creation produced by the jovial proprietess.
It was time to head back to Port Stanley. That was an experience.
There were signs of this secluded colony participating in black magic rites. I imagine there is little else to do in those endless dark winter months but to do it so openly was remarkable. There was a bust of Margaret Thatcher on open display and they had even named the road after her. That is truly satanic.
We looked at the war memorial and looked at the names of the dead. They had fought and died for this place.
I looked across the strait towards the hillside where the various regiments had left their marks spelt out in rocks.
We walked past the church and post office with its bright red pillar box and telephone box. If it hadn’t been for the whalebone formation in front of the church it would all have been more English than England.
We went to the café for a hot mug of cocoa and then on to the pub festooned with union jacks and regimental colours. We climbed up the hill and looked down into the harbour. It was such a little settlement, such a quaint bit of Britishness on the edge of the Antarctic.
A fur seal greeted us on the jetty as we boarded the lifeboats.
As we turned and headed back to Argentina the sun was setting and the islands were encased in an orange glow.
Looks lovely, but was it worth all the pain that Wars leave or should I say Politicians.
It should never have happened. Wrong signals and dubious reasons.
How surreal!
Life is surreal. When it is normal I start to worry.
How many died how many damaged for life – Falklands, like Korea like so many not worth the cost.
There were far better ways of dealing with it!
How you can’t solve it, by talking to trouble makers.
They withdrew the ships and sent the wrong message. They were hearing what Gaultieri was saying and did not react. He was desperate to hold on to power and made the Falklands his pet project. He hoped to gain popularity. They should have sent out a ship or two and a few troops. It would have been a clear message. They should have done more when that flag was raised on Georgia. If they had have done there wouldn’t have been a war. They should have warned Gualtieri. They were weak and sent the wrong message.
If the above had not worked the Country would have looked weak.
It was because we looked weak that the Argentinians chose to try to take over. The message we sent was that we’d let them. They’d been testing us out and we did not resist. We couldn’t have looked weaker.
I fail to see how War could have been avoided. Not convinced a few “warning shots” would have sufficed.
oh I think it would. but i guess we’ll never know.
Really does look very English, doesn’t it! That last picture — the colors are so different. Interesting.
Strange Antarctic light.
It was more English than England – like going back in time.
This was a once in a lifetime trip for you guys, wasn’t it…
No. We’re going to do it again!
The same one?
Maybe. There’s other places to go at each destination!
That’s the way we felt about our cruise from Boston up around Nova Scotia and into Quebec City. We’ve done it twice. The second time we went on into Montreal. We’d do it again. Probably will some day. Absolutely loved Nova Scotia and Quebec City.
That sounds brilliant. We’d love to do Canada. Particularly in the autumn. The last time I went to Canada was 1971.
We went end of September both times and missed the colors both times! We loved seeing Fort Louisbourg i Cape Breton so much we went back twice. Could have stayed there poking around a couple days. Like going WAY back in time.
I want to go poking about in the rift valley where it all started. That sounds fabulous.
Reblogged this on Opher's World and commented:
You would not believe that it was the site of bloody battle.
Aww what a cute seal!
Yep – they clubbed him and boiled him up for Falklands stew.
Did it taste good?? 😂😂😜😜
It’s a fishy tale.