
All Alone
Very peaceful here - just us and the seals. Behind me, out of the entrance and across the fjord, is the little fishing village of Harbour Breton.
Jersey Harbour
We are anchored between the end of the shingle spit and the shipwrecked trawler. The graves in the foreground remain from the settlement that was here until the clearance in the sixties.
The View of the Other Side of the Road
Wide expenses of peatland stretched as far as the eye could see for hours.
The Trip to the Big Smoke
It's difficult to capture a good shot from a speeding minibus (!), but this gives a feel for the ponds and open ground.

The Toutons!
Many of the pubs had live music; found these guys early in the evening. Toutons are eaten for breakfast!
Old St Johns
In the city, the older houses still have their traditional wooden cladding, now painted in bright colours.
Carpark
Supplies come in by the little ferry and residents each have their transport at hand to haul it from the jetty.

The Drying Grounds
The fishermen built platforms out of pebbles from the beach on which to dry their catch. Some have been uncovered. The dried cod was shipped to France.

A Quiet Place Now
Of the few houses that are left, some are lived in, a few are museums. There used to be 2 rows of cottages with access at their backs to the sea and between them space to dry the cod.