You always remember your first trip after lockdown. Safety briefing, to which you pay attention, babies bawling make you consider an upgrade and people taking an unusual interest in anti-motion sickness bracelets. The later were to become essential must-wears within the next hour of the three hour crossing from Poole to St Peter’s Port Guernsey. There were many passengers wobbling their way to the toilets clutching those nice white paper bags.
 |
BEFORE THE GREAT CHUNDER |
Our billet is a delightful and commodious cabin on the north-east of the island – Vale. Driving up we noticed a huge acreage of glasshouses. All empty, the remains of Guernsey’s once huge tomato growing industry. Huge until the Dutch had a go at the same idea. Made mental note to explore the one next door to us with a camera.
Going underground.
One and a quarter miles of tunnel and low cavernous rooms. Part ammo dump, part military hospital. Dipping, cold and glistening in the light shed by ancient yet atmospheric bulkhead lights. Somewhere floats the music of Édith Piaf*. We are in a museum, a wonderful museum. The German Underground Hospital. Built by slave labour imported by the Nazis from across Europe. http://www.germanundergroundhospital.co.uk
 |
One and a quarter miles of tunnel |
 |
Part ammo dump, part military hospital |
 |
PLENTY OF SPACE   |
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you very much for your comments - Tim