Between the morning, and the history I've heard from the our two Falkland Island crew, I'm ready to take a position on the matter of ownership. I'm assured Argentina's argument has no historical grounding, and is solely based on their proximity to the island. The people here are tea drinking, lawn mowing, cheddar eating Brits. The strong majority of houses and Landrovers sport a Union Jack and or Falklands flag. I estimate one in seven cars is not a Landrover. The remainder are Landrovers. At the entrance of the supermarket, there's a prominent poster of a map of South America, highlighting the island. It features an unusual Argentina-shaped bay, labeled “The Sea”. There's wooden pubs and the toilets are plumbed properly. So my personal conclusion is that whilst Argentina is a beautiful country with a rich culture, a superb appetite for beef, and even ale, it's lazy and often corrupt politicians can sod off.
In the late afternoon, into the
evening, we enjoy a short pub crawl with both new and already familiar
locals. We happen to catch the video for Brothers In Arms. The
pencil animation of sea was in my mind during the recent
nightwatches, though oddly, the song I had stuck in there was The
Man's Too Strong. Both are more than highly meritable.
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