Port Stanley, Falkland Islands




This is Hans and my second time in the Falklands and not much has changed. It’s a small community of about 3,000 which doubles whenever a cruise ship docks. The locals wisely stay indoors when we’re out and about since there’s really no main street. What would be a major road is the one along the harbor and it’s thickly packed with cruise tourists all jamming into the same little gift shops.

The Falklands are an English protectorate, so everything here is in British Pounds Sterling (read expensive) and they drive on the left, mostly Range Rovers. Four wheel drive here would be fairly necessary in the chilly winter months. Today, at nearly the first day of summer, temperatures were about 12 degrees with a mix of blue sky and cloud. But the wind! Yikes. I wrapped my scarf around Teddy’s neck since I had a hood on my jacket and I was grateful for it. I was no fashion plate, and Teddy has the photo to prove it, but my ears were happy.

We stopped for a drink in the same pub Hans and I went to five years ago, but this time, we couldn’t sit outside. Too windy. Inside, the place was hopping with tourists but despite the crowds, we were served virtually instantly: two white wines, one Heineken and a basket of chips to share.

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