The ferry wasn't quite so early this time, lunchtime instead of breakfast time. When it arrived in St Peter Port mid-afternoon I wandered round the town for a while, as I hadn't seen any of it on my previous visit, before walking to my B&B, which took half an hour.
I'd booked the cheapest place I could find. It was on a quiet residential street on the outskirts of the town with a bus stop at the top of the road. I was greeted by one of the owners, a chap perhaps in his sixties or seventies with a bit of a character, who sat me down and gave me some maps and information and then asked for my breakfast order.
Umm... nope. No chance. I am utterly hopeless at making decisions (something I really want to improve). I kind of went "Um, um, I don't know!" Eventually I said I'd have breakfast at 8 but asked if I could let him know later about what I would like to eat, after I'd gone to my room and had time to myself and thought about it. I know that choosing what to have for breakfast should be a quick and easy task, but often for me the smallest decisions are the most difficult, and being put on the spot definitely does not help. It's nice that they do that, though, it's easier for them to know in advance so they don't waste food by putting a buffet out, or have a hectic time in the mornings cooking to order.
The whole place was a bit dated, but very clean and perfectly fine as a place for a bed and breakfast for a couple of nights. Cheap and cheerful. Once I'd been shown to my room I unpacked a bit and rested for a while, thinking about my plans for the next day. About quarter to seven I went to leave to catch the bus into town for dinner and met the other owner, another man perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties. I gave him my breakfast order of scrambled eggs and beans on toast, he asked me about what I was planning to do during my stay, gave me some leaflets and maps and stuff and chatted for a while. I didn't want to interrupt him so I could go get the bus, so ended up walking into town, but he'd pointed out on the map a route that would avoid the main road for some of the way and take me through the Old Quarter a bit, so I got to see some of that which was nice.
So - dinner, the most important bit, haha! I went to Le Petit Cafe, the French place I'd wanted to go to last time. Lovely place! Just like a French cafe (not that I've been to many). Tall many-paned windows with dark red floor-to-ceiling curtains, tied back, and those little white net half-curtains on a rail about head height when you're sat down. Wooden floor and wooden not-all-matching furniture, with old-fashioned lamps on the windowsills, and a bar at the back of the room. Pretty relaxed but at the same time somewhat sophisticated and charming. There is a doorway leading through to the bistro next door (Le Petit Bistro) but I didn't see that as it was full.
To start, I ordered the cuisses de grenouilles - pan-fried frogs legs in parsley and lemon butter - and coq au vin with Dauphinoise potatoes for the main. Both dishes came out smelling wonderful - I leaned over, closed my eyes and breathed it in (the smell, that is, not the food), appreciating that sense for a few moments. I broke into a big smile and did an excited little giggle as I put my napkin on my lap and picked up the cutlery.
The frogs legs were delicious. The texture, as everyone's always heard, is very similar to chicken, but of course they're very small and these were succulent and tender, with crispy bits where they'd been fried. I imagine the taste would be similar to chicken too if they were plain, but the taste of the garlic, lemon and parsley marinade/sauce was the primary one. They were served with a few salad leaves, a crouton (a thin slice of crisp fried bread rather than cubes) a strong, somewhat vinegary tomato sauce, and of course a wedge of lemon.
The coq au vin and the Dauphinoise potatoes were warm and comforting and rich and deep and full of flavour and delicious - very well made. I took my time and enjoyed every last drop of that perfectly clear broth, even though I left some of the chicken (there was a lot of it).
I finished eating around 9pm, service was slow and they close at 10pm - and I was quite full up - so I didn't order the tarte tatin that had also been on my list of things I wanted to eat there last time. I got the bill and went for a wander round the town and harbour, the colours of sunset making a gorgeous backdrop. Some billionaire's enormous ocean-going yacht was moored up in one place, boxes full of colourful flowers along the harbour railings looked pretty in the twilight, and in the east behind Castle Cornet the full moon had just cleared the horizon and rose slowly upwards, a stunning blood-red colour. At 11pm I got the bus back to the B&B and went to bed, looking forward to going to Sark the next day.
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