Guern-o-rama

The plan was simple.  Assemble a motley raiding crew of vagabonds and brigands, perhaps a salty sea dog, and stake my claim to the throne.

The crossing was navigated successfully, where so many have tried the darstardly fog has cut them down with the cruelest but perhaps the least painful of sensory deprivations - a total removal of depth perception combined with a moisture that tickles the nostrils.  But as I say we found our way in good conditions, not even arriving in the dawn light so as to avoid detection...this plan was relying on the famed trojan horse method. The mechanical bird flew stright in and we were welcomed with open arms the wide eyed people (nothing genetic - more an expression of awe you see), soon to be MY people...

(to be continued)