After a day of cruising around Sark, the tiny island in the English Channel that’s home to only 500 people, I was looking forward to a pint before the ferry trip back to Guernsey. I dropped my bike off at the cycle hire and strolled to the pub: one of just two on the island.
At the end of the bar was an elderly man nursing a pint of Stout, who, based on his attire, probably spent most of his days fishing. He wasn’t keen on making conversation as I waited for the bartender to appear, but I didn’t mind. I was eager to escape the afternoon sun and the group of noisy day-trippers in the beer garden, and so I sat in a dim corner of the pub, and enjoyed the solitude.
