May 22: Guernesy Island: Sark Island

Previous: May 21

Today we traveled to Sark Island, which we were expecting to be a moderately difficult hike. Getting to Sark is a 1-hour ferry trip, but because of tidal schedules, there are only a few times when it's possible to get the ship to the dock. This creates two challenges: getting to the island with enough time to do any tourism requires an early start, with only a few departures that will get you to the island in the morning, and getting home again also requires an early departure. In the morning, if you miss the first ferry trip, it's a few hours before the next one, and if you miss the late afternoon ferry, you have only one more chance to get home if the weather changes, and the buses will no longer be running by the time you arrive. So you need to leave early, and aim to get back to the port by late afternoon to ensure that you don't miss the 4:30 ferry home; after that, you only have one more chance to get home, and you'll have to call a cab to get home from the ferry terminal.

So our goal today was to catch the 8:15 bus, which would get us to the ferry terminal an hour or so early, with the goal being that if we missed the first bus, we still had one more chance for a bus that would get us to the port before our ferry left. As there had been some bus weirdness (a couple buses had failed to show up on time) and one bus accident that delayed the bus, we opted for the early bus, which meant missing breakfast. We're fairly conservative about missing opportunities, so we figured better safe (on the island) than sorry (stuck in Guernsey) and took the early bus.

We made it to the port with plenty of time, picked up our tickets, and went to sit by the dock and await the ferry. Everything was on time, and we climbed up onto the upper deck of the ferry, which provides a good view but also helps people like Shoshanna, who's at risk of sea sickness. If you're outside, you can see the horizon, and that plus fresh air greatly reduces the risk. The wather was beautiful, with sunny cloud-free skies and a light breeze, so the ferry didn't move enough to cause problems for anyone. Which is a good thing, as no seasickness bags were available outside the enclosed cabin space.

Cormorants ("shags") watching the ferry pass:

When we arrived, we encountered a small challenge. Maseline Harbor, where the ferries dock, is at the bottom of a large drop from the village and surrounding areas. As a result, you have to climb a couple hundred meters to move from the port to the main village. Takes about 15 steep minutes, but faster than waiting for the other main transport option: farm tractors that pull trailers full of tourists and their luggage to the top of the slope.

We made it to the top, then went looking for food, as we'd missed breakfast and it was close to lunch. There are several options for food, but we opted for The Old Hall Pub and Bistro, which was (surprise!) next to The Old Hall and far enough from the main drag that we figured the prices would be reasonable. The pub wasn't going to open for food for another 15 minutes, so we asked one of the waiters to reserve a table for us in case the other people who'd come on our boat also arrived at the pub, and then went to explore the Old Hall, which hosted an exhibit about Sark's experience during the second world war. As in the other islands, everything started out civilized and then went to hell as the war turned against the Nazis and supply lines began to be cut. Several people died of starvation before supplies arrived from the Red Cross.

Lunch started with a couple Americano coffees each. European coffee is generally superior to North American, but it's also tiny. It's almost impossible to get a really good mug full of the real aque vitae (water of life). But it was very satisfying to get our morning coffee several hours later than usual. And lunch was pretty good. I got a dish of braised duck tagliatelli (broad noodles) that was savory and filling and so big that I ended up not having dinner when we got back to Guernsey. Shoshanna got a similarly large crab sandwich, which she enjoyed for its novelty (it included local seaweed that had been chopped into pieces like parsley), but probably wouldn't order it again.

Sark has banned all motor vehicles except agricultural tractors, so that's the only vehicle we saw the whole time we were there. Once the tractors had finished hauling tourists and their luggage up to the village, they were freed for other duties until it was time to haul the tourists back down to the port. About a dozen tractors drove past the pub, moving fast, while we ate, including one driven by what looked like a teenager with his girlfriend sitting on the metal hood above the large rear wheels.

After lunch, we finished the parts of the war display we hadn't yet finished, then booted it for the southern part of the island, about 2 km south of the main village. It's called "Little Sark" because it's much smaller than the main Sark island. Although it's not separated from the main island, the connection between the two is a narrow ridge about 2-3 m wide that plunges a couple hundred meters on either side down to rocky coastline. It's called "La Coupée" (the cut) because it's like someone took an ice cream scoop to the land between Little and Big Sark and left only a tiny bit of rock connecting the two parts. Back in the days before they reconstructed the ridge and put up fences, school kids used to crawl across the ridge on hands and knees whenever it got windy to avoid falling to their death. Now it's quite safe to cross, but not a place to stand if you're at all subject to vertigo.

Coupée connecting Little and Big Sark:

We tried to make it to the end of Little Sark to see a couple things, including a dolmen that seemed interesting, but ran out of time. To be honest, it was quite hot, there was no shade or wind, and we were sweating hard trying to move fast enough to get to that end and still have time to catch the ferry home. Plus, we were pooped, as this was our third day of long hikes. (On Sark, we walked about 4 hours, including lunch.) We took the convenient excuse, gave up on that part of the hike, and returned to the port. One mercy was that we took a shortcut through fields and forest, and were mostly in the shade.

When we reached the port of Maseline, about an hour before the ship arrived, I stopped in for ice cream at the Harbour Café—one of those beach shacks I've mentioned before. The proprietor was friendly and chatty, and suggested that we walk through a short tunnel to Le Creux ("the hole") port, which he claimed was one of the smallest working ports in the world. It certainly seemed that way; the sea wall spanned about 100 m in total, and provided a basin with lovely clear water where you could swim.

Creux harbor:

Travel home on the ferry was uneventful, though Shoshanna fell asleep and I nearly did. Back at St Peter Port, we stopped in briefly to pick up food for a late dinner by Shoshanna (scones with cranberries) at the Marks and Spencer store. Getting home was more of a challenge because our bus kept overheating, and the poor driver had to drive slowly and keep stopping to prevent engine damage. But he had a good sense of humor about it, protesting that he'd only been on this job 3 weeks and that he was deliberately stopping to make everyone late getting home. He received a supportive applause for his patience and perseverance.

Home to an early night, as we're both pretty fried. As we've kept (unsuccesfully) promising ourselves a quiet and restful day, that's on the schedule for tomorrow: take a bus to the local farmers' market, walk to a 4000-year-old stone goddess statue, then a break for a few hours back at the hotel before heading out to a late afternoon (3 PM) tour of a local cider producer, with several cider tastings and cheese plates. Hopefully we'll still have room for dinner!

Next: May 23