The time is 8:06 on a Saturday morning and I’m sitting up in bed supping tea and nibbling on warm croissants. Sounds like a deliciously lazy way to start the day, doesn’t it? But no. That’s not how we start the day around here!
We woke early, and looked out of our bedroom window – instead of a bank of fog, there was blue sky and the hint of a sunrise on the horizon. We threw some clothes on, made a quick cuppa in our travel mags, jumped into our campervan Ruby, and headed for the coast.
First stop, Le Hocq. The high tide had just recently turned and the slipway framed the sunrise sky perfectly.
Whilst the majority of the local residents were still a slumber the glorious sky performed its sunrise dance, undeterred by the lack of onlookers. Just look at those magnificent streaks of golden light!
It felt very serene to stand at the waters edge, listen to ebb and flow of the gentle waves and the various calls of the seabirds.
This is Ruby, abandoned on the slipway at Le Hocq whilst we admired the sunrise in the opposite direction instead.
The glorious colours of the sky were beginning to fade a little, so we drove around the headland to La Roque Harbour, just in time to watch the vibrant sun emerge from the horizon, ablaze with colour and light.
The light of the sunrise and sky were beautifully reflected in the wet granite cobbles of the double slip at La Rocque.
But the colour fades to pastels very quickly when facing away from the sunrise, all gentle and serene and calm in La Rocque harbour.
Seymour Tower stands proudly against the faded sunrise sky, to stand guard over the bay for another day.
Our cups of tea finished and the sunrise spectacle almost faded into insignificance, we drove to Webbers Lane and strolled along the beach from behind La Rocque Harbour to way beyond the Pontac slip, and back again.
Understandably, given the indecent time of the day, we had the whole expanse of the beach to ourselves, leaving our virgin footsteps in the damp sand as we meandered through the flotsam and jetsam.
I may have been looking for one of Ian Rolls little red huts, that may have been my compulsion for an early stroll on the beach – but please don’t tell my hubby, who thought I was being romantic!
We drove home, via the co-op at Pontac to pick up some fresh croissants, then jumped back into bed with a cup of tea – about the same time as the rest of the island were just opening their eyes…….
Have a lovely weekend, whatever you are doing.