Winter arrives! Or, War in Winter

So autumn was over: the leaves were all done,
The weather was chill and my little face glum.
The wet and the wind had announced they’d arrived
When my fingers and toes said they’d lief stay inside.

The choice was not theirs: I just knew they were wrong
When my tongue and my lips began to break out in song.
‘It’s Christmas acomin’, we’re striving to sing
Those beautiful carols – when can we begin?’

My shoulders were aching from hefting a load
Of presents for all of my friends down the road.
My feet and my ankles were terribly sore.
What was I to do, with my body at war?

My fingers and toes all refused to attend:
Cold frozen and stiff, they followed no trend.
And while I was trying to prise them apart
My nose, hereto quiet, awoke with a start.

It decided it just had to join in the fun,
So without a delay it then started to run.
I looked for a tissue, without any success:
I really was in such a terrible mess.

My hero arrived, with roast chestnuts, mulled wine
I instantly knew that he had to be mine.
He cajoled to obedience all of those parts
Which were frozen: above all, he melted my heart.

This is Guernsey...

‘Picturesque' is the word for the little island of Guernsey. Arriving by ferry, the town of St Peter Port opens up to view. Pastel coloured buildings climb away from the sea, jostling together in narrow cobbled streets. Boats fill the harbour; the fish market sells fish. Castle Cornet, in the main a creation of Henry VIII, stands sentinel on a tiny island: once a bastion of Royalist support in the face of Parliamentarian Guernsey, it is now reached by a long granite pier, haunt of small boys and amateur fishermen.

This is Guernsey, English speaking, yet some people still speak Guernsiaise, a patois based on the French spoken in the Middle Ages.



A short climb up a quiet street devoid of traffic leads to Hauteville House, Victor Hugo's sanctuary for 15 years after he fled France. The walls and ceilings are covered with carpets; furniture of dark, intricately carved wood is integral with the building. One ceiling is lined with ceramics; another room with tiles. The darkroom is hidden in a cupboard. The winter garden is a conservatory with inspirational views of the islands. A glass eyrie at the top is where this literary giant wrote, standing at a writing desk.

It was here that he wrote several of his most famous works: notably ‘Les Miserables' and the work he devoted to the people of Guernsey, ‘The Toilers of the Sea': "I dedicate this book to the rock of hospitality, to this corner of old Norman land where resides the noble little people of the sea, to the Island of Guernsey, severe and yet gentle...".

Guernsey's harsh, rugged cliffs, combined with gentle inland scenery; hidden coves and sandy beaches; a profusion of plant life growing abundantly in a mild climate; gentle, friendly people. Inspirational. Picturesque. Inviting.