22 December - Stanley and the Battlefields

I awoke at 6am with sunlight streaming in through the un-curtained window and feeling slightly the worse for wear after last night. I pottered around the quiet house - nobody else seemed be around - and went outside to enjoy the fresh air, the blue skies and the birdsong in the garden.

Today was like a brisk spring day with sunshine and a stiff breeze, perfect for the trip to the battlefields around Stanley that Nigel had planned for us. We set off west into the surrounding hills and between driving gravel tracks and walking the rough ground covered with great granite outcrops we got into the heart of the mountains and hills with names that sprung back from history - Mount Longdon, Twin Sisters, Harriet, Goat Ridge - with Nigel explaining which military units had been involved and where. It brought back memories for me too; when I was here previously, exploring the battlefields was one of those things that was more easily arranged to pass our one day off from work each week. The views down to Stanley through crisp, clean air, the blue of the sky and the chill of the wind were all intensely familiar and I was taken back three decades as I stood enjoying the view.

What I had not done all those years ago was spend any real time in Stanley so I was quite happy to accompany Nigel to the supermarket to get a better feel for everyday life here. It was surprisingly well stocked although in terms of food produce the selection was on a par with a good local store rather than a supermarket and prices for fresh produce were astronomical: tomatoes a pound each, a thin and reedy piece of celery for nearly three and slices of water melon at two pounds each. Lamb and beef on the other hand were incredibly cheap. It must be a challenge to maintain a healthy diet here.

Nigel dropped me in town (a rather grandiose expression given that it extends for not much more than half a mile along the waterfront and a few streets back) and I wandered the main road. This place has the feeling of a well presented frontier town. Neat clapperboard houses with tin roofs, colourful and well maintained, one or two solid stone public buildings and the small red stone cathedral all looked out to the narrow harbour, separated from it only by the small road and a long common of bright green grass with cannon and other maritime history on display. It looks very 'picture postcard' and not the dull and somewhat faded place I vaguely recall. Maybe my memory of the town is tainted by the overcast, greyness of the day on which I visited but I think the appearance owes more to the town getting a facelift to make it more presentable and photographic-friendly for the cruise ship passengers that now get dropped off for a few hours visit at this time of year. Indeed, a ship was in the harbour as I explored and passengers were wandering the streets visiting the tidy gift shops and one or two eateries that I doubt were here three decades ago.

That evening we went to dinner at the house of the newly appointed Head of Agriculture here, an Australian guy recently arrived; many of the Government jobs here are undertaken by contractors it seems.  It was an opportunity for me to see how a local really lived and as the wind battered the town outside we sat in a small but basic house, simply furnished, sharing a simple meal and conversation. As the evening progressed I could not help but think Tom was here to escape complex personal issues back home. I also got the impression that his experience was not unique and that many of those who come to fill Government posts are running away from something. Yet it was interesting to hear what he thought about where he might take things in his new job, partially part of the broader conversation and partially I think professional manoeuvring because he had the attention of Nigel for the evening.