Woke up to find the ship chugging up the narrow channel to Port Stanley. After breakfast we were ferried over to spend most of the day in the town. It’s a strange place with just over 2000 residents, 85% of the Islands population. The houses are very varied, some of brick looking like a seaside boarding house from Eastbourne, some of wood and some of metal. There are some very new buildings including a new hospital and school, and of course there is Government House, central to so many proceedings in the 1982 war. The place is certainly bleak. Today was sunny but the wind still whistled over the mountains into the bay, whipping up the water and blasting the skin. What it must be like in the winter you can only guess. Prices are all in Pounds, so no complicated calculations to do, which was a relief for this poor Englishman. Visited the Museum and the Cemetery, including the memorial guardian which contains a shrub for every British service man killed in the 1982 war. Very moving to see them all laid out. Had a walk up Thatcher drive, a rather nondescript back alley, and then back to the boa