Before we caught the ferry from Saint-Malo to Guernsey, we absolutely had to get kouign-amann, so we trecked back to the intra-muros and stopped at a cute boulangerie we had seen the night before. To be honest, I was kind of let down by the kouign-amann I ate in Brittany. I think I just didn’t manage to find the really good ones, but they all ended up being a little underbaked or not flaky enough or too sweet. Obviously, I kept trying 🙂
The Condor Ferries boat to Guernsey was *huge* as it takes cars and people both. The trip took just over and hour and was pretty smooth sailing across La Manche. We had already assembled Lucky, my folding Bike Friday, and his trailer at the Saint-Malo train station, so we just rolled off, picked up Cheryl’s Go-Guernsey rental bike from the covered parking at the ferry terminal, and got on our way.
It was a bit of a rough start, as Lucky’s brakes had gotten thrown out of alignment in the shipping process (happens), and I didn’t have the right tool to fix them; so, that required a detour into the steep hills and busy streets of St. Peter’s Port–not a lot of fun when you’re pulling a trailer. And then we had another steep hill or two to get out of town. But once we gained the top of the cliffs that demarcate Guernsey’s southern coastline, it was smooth and beautiful riding for the rest of the afternoon.
We totally lucked out with the weather on this trip (or a lot of my mom’s friends were praying!) because the forecast had been awful for our time on Guernsey, but it didn’t rain on us at all while we were riding: it rained at night, while we were eating breakfast, etc., but never while we were actually in the saddle. Miraculous. In fact, the first afternoon on Guernsey was warm, sunny, and gorgeous. The south side of the island was our favorite, and it’s too bad I didn’t stop for many pictures (I don’t know why–it always takes me a while to get into picture-taking mode on tours). Victor Hugo lived in this part of the island for a while in exile, and Renoir came here to paint–there are neat frame-signs along the southern coasts to show you where particular views he painted are. It’s all beautiful whitewashed cottages, wild hedgerows bristling with ferns and flowers, gold-and-white Guernsey cows, and turquoise-blue bays framed in by black rocks. We hiked down to the Moulin Huet Tearoom at Saints Bay to fortify ourselves for the rest of our ride with fresh scones, Bramley apple cake, and a strong pot of tea. Then, we biked the few remaining miles to Longfrie Inn, a warm and welcoming hotel/pub in St. Savior. By then the day had caught up to us, so after dinner and a pint (local Liberation real ale for me, Rocquette cider for Cheryl), we hit the sack.
The Rookery 