Don’t worry, I am coming in to land on “What I Did on My Holidays”, just as we came into land at Heathrow a mere 35 minutes after taking off. With spectacular views over Central London, which was a real treat:
But I’m getting ahead of myself. First off, our trip to Castle Cornet. It was a bit of a trek because we had to walk into town and then it was a 15 minute walk from the harbourfront. You can see the castle from pretty much everywhere in St Peter Port, so I think it feels much closer than it is. But it’s basically halfway to Herm. It used to be its own island until the first bridge was built in the 19th Century. The current structure is being closed this winter for rebuilding but we did not mention this to VK as it might have made her somewhat nervous. You do realise how far offshore it is when you look back tho:
We also found another Victor Hugo statue on the way through town, which was a bonus:
With our sluggish pace and a few rest breaks, we didn’t make it in time for the 2pm guided tour but that was OK. VK wanted to potter around and look at everything so it was probably better for us to not be part of a group. I should say the ticket prices were very reasonable – £12 for an adult and both kids were £3 as they’re under 18. Bargain!
We started by walking around the museum and VK did indeed want to stop and read everything. I was mainly getting jump-scared by these guys:
The museum is very comprehensive and tells the complete story of the castle, from the formation of the rock up to excavations of the 1980s. I did message my sister to see if she knew any of the archaeologists involved but sadly, it is not that small a world.
There’s also a dressing up station, which I think it aimed more at the toddlers than the teenagers but still:
Cloak is model’s own.
By the time we’d finished at the museum, it was almost 3pm and I had not yet had coffee that day so we had a quick trip to the cafe for restorative drinks all round before heading back out to explore the castle itself.
As we learnt at the museum, the castle was built over a mixture of many different historical periods, right up to the concrete fortifications added by the occupying forces of WW2. So it makes for an eclectic site, with modern brickwork next to ancient and, this being in the microclimate of Guernsey, the obligatory palm trees.
Roo and Nathan headed up to the highest point and explored the inner workings of the clock:
VK is still a bit wobbly on stairs though so we stayed further down and wandered around the walls. I mislaid VK at one point but that’s pretty standard for these trips. While checking she hadn’t fallen off a cliff, I spotted Herm in the near-distance:
You see what I mean about the concrete? It’s a fascinating site with so much varied history – as well as the museum that tells the history of the castle itself, there were also three other museums. I think we visited the Royal Guernsey Light Infantry Regimental Museum and the 201 Squadron Museum.
VK especially wanted to go to the Squadron museum because – and I quote – “planes are cool”. I reminded her of this when she was worrying about actually having to get on one to fly home. Apparently that is a different kettle of phobia but learning about the RAF is something she enjoys. She also enjoyed listening to the tales of Disorderly Conduct in the Regimental Museum:
Reuben was, predictably, a fan of the weaponry on display:
And I, equally predictably, enjoyed all the views…especially on such a Good Sky Day:
There were also lovely gardens:
And some whimsical little fairy doors:
It was getting on for closing time and I have had some very specific anxiety dreams involving being trapped in a medieval castle overnight on a rock in the middle of the sea with our only escape being a bridge that’s due for rebuilding. As I say, very specific. So we made sure to leave before that happened:
We stopped for an ice cream at the Fishy Tales kiosk next to the model boating pond and I decided to indulge in a rare spot of dairy:
It was SO good. Then it was home along the turquoise harbour to pack and get ready to have a different anxiety dream – the one I always have on the last night of holiday.
We had one last thing to do before we were ready to leave Guernsey tho. When VK was rapido-researching our new holiday, she spotted something called “The Little Chapel” which, much like the fairy doors, sounded full of whimsy. It was very near the airport so, once we’d packed up our stuff and said goodbye to the Albany Apartments, we stopped off there for a look.
It was indeed little and it was indeed whimsical. Built in the early 20th Century, it has hundreds of pieces of shell and pottery embedded into its walls:
It’s a small upstairs space and then an even smaller grotto underneath. Remarkably none of my accident prone family members banged their heads on anything…not even the tall ones.
According to Google, it’s a non-denominational chapel but it certainly has a bit of a Catholic feel, especially if you’re an ex-convent girl.
But mainly, it is just a peaceful, serene spot to hang out in especially as there were only a few people there when we arrived. Just after we exited, a coachful of visitors arrived so I think we timed it pretty well. We had a picnic of sorts – left over biscuits and drinks from self-catering – in the garden that was slightly removed from the chapel itself, up a small flight of steps. We wouldn’t be allowed to take any liquids through security (unlike Heathrow, which has ditched the 100ml rule) so I made the family drink remnants of apple juice cartons and Coke bottles that I had carefully decanted into other bottles. We still ended up ditching quite a lot of mineral water and squash at the airport, so let that be a lesson to you all – drink and be merry for tomorrow you might be disposing of it in an airport bin.
Right next to the bin tho? An even littler rendering of the Little Chapel:
A suitably charming way to say goodbye to what turned out to be quite the charming island. It was not the holiday we planned but it was remarkably wholesome – lots of fresh air, exercise, swimming and culture. I do kinda want to just lie on a sunbed and eat for a week now tho.
Talking of eating, the Balliwick Kitchen at the airport was not bad at all. The reviews had concerned me, as there was nowhere else to get food, but they supplied piping hot sausage sandwiches for the carnivores and chips for the chipovore, with unlimited condiments and a friendly smile. Don’t believe the reviews. Also don’t believe the Guernsey airport blurb when it says there is “plenty to do”. There really was not. But I managed to get a vegan Magnum from the WH Smith, so that was good.
And those London views I trailed at the start? Well, here you go. I was in the middle seat, leaning over VK to get these, so they are somewhat fuzzy but they are recognisably London. I already shared the one of Canary Wharf and the O2 but here’s the City:
Workplace annoyingly just out of shot.
And here’s the South Bank – Nathan’s old workplace just about in shot:
I know what you’re thinking – with this crystal-clear clarity, they must surely be AI-generated. But no, you can tell they’re real because the London Eye isn’t floating down the river.
I’m pretty sure this is Hyde Park (Royal Albert Hall just out of shot):
And here the jewel of North-West London – the North Circular. Or maybe Wembley Stadium. I don’t know:
I can’t believe I’ve never seen these views before but we rarely use Heathrow as it’s the opposite corner of London to where we live. Given how fast the Elizabeth Line is though, we may use it again in the future. I flew to Belfast for a work trip from Heathrow but it was November and dark and the last time before that must have been Australia in 2007. Maybe we had the views then but I don’t think we did. So it was a lovely way to come back to London and far lovelier than getting to Liverpool Street and finding there was no Weaver Line home. Let’s not dwell on that bit and instead leave on a sunnier, happier, Guernsier note:
Thank you Guernsey!
