Of all the odd ports we visit, I’ve always had a soft spot for the Falkland Islands. Hotly disputed for over a century (Argentina still lays claim to them) they remain a little piece of Britain in the middle of the northern ocean. It’s rainy and cold and everything is priced in pounds, but it …feels like home. Not Canada home, not really (although the coastline has the same familiar scent as the beach across from our house), but England still holds a very close place in my heart despite my having not set foot there in nearly 12 years. It feels nice to touch that particular base once in a while.
Anyway.
The other thing it is home to is penguins. Lots and lots of penguins. Last time I went through a cruise like this I didn’t get a single wildlife photo, this time we hopped on the shuttle to Gypsy Cove and wandered through the trials there – where there are not only penguins there were baby penguins. Little fuzzy fluffballs looking sleepily up from the side of the path, under the caring eye of a park worker, wondering why exactly they were being disturbed. They are everywhere. At one point you actually had to be careful not to step on one of the little floofs!
It’s peaceful at Gypsy Cove, there’s very little to obstruct the constant breeze coming off of the water, and there’s very little noise except for the sound the sea birds. It’s a good place to think; and I have a lot of reason to think lately.
Once we were finished cooing over the adorable-ness of the world’s most well known flightless bird, we headed back into town for real fish and chips. And also the chance to buy proper British chocolate (there is a difference between American Cadbury and UK Cadbury I swear!) and mail postcards. Postcards are a new hobby that Amras and I have taken up, as it occurred to us that no one seems to get interesting real mail anymore. Now, whether or not any of the ones we have sent actually reach their destination remains to be seen, but at least we’ve tried!
And now, it is onwards towards Argentina.