Most of my weekends away in the Falklands have been to outer, smaller islands, drawn there by the attraction of seeing some of the spectacular wildlife.  However, there are other weekend options on East and West Falkland where farms have created self-catering properties and new income sources.  Often self-catering units are existing houses that are no longer lived in or in some cases purpose built.  The latter is what I’m staying in this weekend – the charming Beach Hut.

To get here, you drive west from Stanley for 45 minutes on the tarmac road to Mount Pleasant (MPC) – home of the international airport and the armed forces.  The tarmac road is unique here, as it is the only tarmaced road outside Stanley and MPC and it is very recently finished, in the sense that there is now unbroken tarmac all the way (road markings are bit patchy still).  This road is pretty well travelled and there was a steady flow of people driving past me towards the bright, weekend lights of Stanley, while I headed the other way.

At MPC you turn on to a graded gravel road and keep going west towards Goose Green.  It’s a two vehicle width road but in reality most people drive in the middle unless they’re passing someone else.  It has a bit of reputation for being slidey in places, with the gravel piling up on each side, this can be treacherous and occasionally people do lose control and in the worst cases roll their cars.  I hadn’t seen anyone else for a while when I noticed three 4WDs coming up quite quickly behind me and a Discovery overtook the other two and in overtaking skidded, which the driver recovered but made the whole car lean alarmingly.  I was very happy to let him go past me and then a bit later the other two.  They all shot off into the distance, while I  continued at the speed limit…

About half an hour from leaving MPC, just before arriving at Darwin, you turn right onto the North Camp road, which loops all the way around the top of East Falkland before coming right round back to Stanley.  This is a one and a bit vehicle wide road, which is predominantly clay, definitely slidey in the wet.  My instructions for finding the Beach Hut were – drive towards San Carlos and there’s a sign on the left .  I knew this was true because mid-summer I’d driven some friends round the North Camp road and seen it.  So I felt I knew how long it would take me to get there.  Of course, the reality of driving at dusk in poor visibility, when you’re not entirely sure where you’re going makes it a different experience.  I went across the cattle grids, with a sign occasionally telling me which farm I was passing through – Goose Green, Port Sussex, Head of the Bay.  I had gone past a few signs and wondered if I had missed mine.  The road went up and into the cloud, which was very low and wet. I really felt I had gone too far, the road wound down and I could see green grass around a bay and I then I saw the sign to the Beach Hut and all was well.

I bumped down the grass track towards the houses and as I drew up, the owners came to meet me, showed me everything I needed to know about the house and then left me in peace.  The Beach Hut is considerably bigger than a traditional British seaside hut, not least as it has two bedrooms, a bathroom and a living room/kitchen, but it is much smaller than a normal house.  It is purpose built and has everything you need on a miniature scale.  In contrast the landscape round it and the views are great big sweeping vistas and joyfully can be seen through every window. 

I have fallen in love with the views.  Every time you look out you are looking at an amazing scene.  Look up the river towards the hills, and follow them rolling into the distance.  Look down the creek and see the river shimmering as it merges into the sea.  Look out at breakfast at the grey, lowering clouds, enveloping the hills in their misty folds.  Look out again and see the sun breaking through, brilliant blue patches of sky, huge, fluffy, white clouds and all the colours of the hillsides vivid in the sunshine.

The area around the houses is full of birds.  At first light, in the blue-grey distance, all along the creek were pairs and family groups of geese, ducks and possibly in the distance a pair of black-necked swans.  The geese had arrived in the evening twilight.  As the sun rose (not very visibly as it was somewhere behind the grey cloud layer) the geese and swans took off for a day of grazing elsewhere.  The ducks stayed, dabbling in the falling tide, grazing on seaweed. 

The tide fell steadily, the water retreating into small channels between the silted edges.  Inevitably it turned, the creek filled and as night fell, the sound of incoming goose honks could be heard.

It really is a perfect spot to decompress, escape the tyranny of weekend chores and totally relax.  I think I might be back!