The overnight ferry was not very comfortable and sleep was almost impossible.
The so-called lounge had seats that made resting difficult, and arriving in Guernsey at 4 am meant that the unloading of lorries and a large dumper truck provided more noise than one would wish for at that hour.
This did, however, give me the chance to see St Peter Port at 5.15 am. The town was still asleep, the streets quiet and calm, with only the first light of day spreading over the harbour.
At around 5.45 am, car owners were asked to return to their vehicles. Despite the lack of rest, everyone seemed ready to continue with the day ahead.
A little later, we were allowed to drive ashore and step into a new day on this small Channel Island.
My plans were straightforward: circle the island, visit some war sites, enjoy a full English breakfast, discover St Peter Port in daylight, stop at a pub, charge the TWIKE and return in time for the ferry to St Malo in the evening.
A full day, but one to look forward to.
TW560 was the first vehicle to be called forward. That meant being the first to wait at customs, which had not yet opened at 6 am. Once staff arrived, the questions were less about immigration and more about TW560. What kind of vehicle is this? Did you really drive all the way from Switzerland in it? It was a friendly exchange and helped to clear the fog created by lack of sleep in my brain.
Once cleared, the TWIKE and I set off to see what the island had in store. Guernsey is small but full of character. Its size makes it easy to get away from houses and traffic in only a few minutes, and at that early hour the roads felt as if they belonged just to me.
The air was cool, so the canopy stayed on and I kept my soft-shell jacket zipped. The forecast promised a hot afternoon, which was hard to imagine in the fresh morning breeze.
Not long after leaving St Peter Port, I was on quiet country roads with no cars and no houses in sight. It felt remote, and yet I was never far from the sea. The neighbouring islands of Herm and Sark appeared through the morning light, their outlines visible across the water.
The first war site of the day was Fort Doyle. It stood completely empty and open, its walls still holding a certain weight of history. These coastal defences, remain a silent reminder of the island’s role in past conflicts, not only WW2.
I carefully climbed to the top of the fort on old uneven steps, rewarded with views over the coastline and a chance to photograph the TWIKE in this striking setting.
What I enjoy most are the narrow country lanes. They allow me to avoid the main road around the island, even if they are so tight that passing another car would be difficult. At 6.45 am, there was no one else about, and I had the lanes and sea views to myself.
The sunrise was gentle and beautiful.
I stayed for quite a while, silently contemplating and being thankful for my life and all the great moments, people and places I have been able to experience and get to know.
Further along the road I come across more war memorials and drive past beaches that are completely empty. It makes me wonder for a moment if anyone is around at all.
One thing that stands out to me is how different the houses and buildings look compared to what I usually see in the UK. Everything seems well maintained, as if there is noticeably more money for upkeep here, both among residents and the government.
Most of the buildings and nearly all of the roads are in excellent condition and look like they have been renovated not too long ago.
Just south of Port St. Peter I come across a surprising sight: all the flags of the Swiss cantons. At first it feels out of place, but a look around the corner makes sense of it. The building is called Helvetia Court and is home to UBS, CST and several other trust companies with Swiss connections.
On one of the company websites I read: Guernsey is a specialist international finance hub that provides tax-neutral structuring, funds and private wealth services, captive insurance, and innovative vehicles like PCCs. It is well regarded for offering trusted, well-regulated solutions for global investors, corporates, and wealthy individuals.
It also explains why so many of the companies located at Helvetia Court appeared in the Panama Papers.
Not long after, I am back in the center of Port St. Peter with a growing appetite. I set out to find a place that serves a full English breakfast, knowing it will be the last one for a while before I return to the continent.
Luckily, it doesn’t take long to find one.
It was exactly what I had been hoping for.
Content and re-energised, I am ready to walk through Port St. Peter. Before setting out, though, I decide to organise charging for my TWIKE. The hotel I booked for the night in St. Malo had clearly told me they would not be able to provide any charging.
Would my unusually smooth public charging experiences of late continue here as well?
First, I checked my usual charging app: Plugsurfing.
No results.
Then I turned to lemnet.org, the original charging map that I even used in its printed form back in 2007. Still nothing.
That did not look promising.
A general online search finally brought results. The local utility had indeed installed 7kW chargers around the island. Good news, I thought.
But there was a catch. The chargers were only accessible with an app I could not download, since my Google account was set to the wrong region. That was frustrating.
Am I the only foreign EV driver trying to charge in Guernsey? I even considered driving to Guernsey Electric to share my thoughts on this restrictive mess!
Instead, I decided to just try my RFID card at the nearest charger. Maybe the maps were outdated and it would work anyway.
Only a few minutes later, at the ferry port where I would be boarding later, I found a charger with clear pricing information displayed.
Now to see if it worked.
At first it didn’t look good. The display on the charger wasn’t working and I had no way of knowing what the double beep after tapping my RFID meant.
Nothing happened, so I assumed it was not accepted.
But then I noticed a helpful option on the instructions nearby. ‘Pay as a guest.’
The process was straightforward. The website loaded quickly, payment was just a tap away, and soon I heard the satisfying click of the relays engaging. The TWIKE was charging.
This is how charging should always be. Simple and accessible.
One small hiccup followed: the charging stopped after just one minute.
This time it wasn’t the phase issue I encountered in Italy last year. The station was single-phase and delivered only 3.6 kW instead of the advertised 7 kW. For the TWIKE that was no real problem, even 1.5 kW would have been enough to fully charge by evening.
Once I had it running steadily, I noticed another type of designated parking spot. It was marked as electric parking, but without any chargers. It seemed to simply give priority spaces to electric and hybrid cars.
With charging taken care of, I finally set out on foot to see more of Port St. Peter.
The town has more to offer than I expected, including traces of Guernésiais, an old local language with roots in Norman French. I hadn’t known about it before.
From the town I noticed a tower on the hill and decided to walk up for what I thought would be a good view of the landscape. When I got there the door was locked, but with an unexpected twist.
To enter, you just needed to collect the key.
Key in hand, and without spending anything, I climbed the tower, curious to see what views it would offer.
The effort was rewarded. The view was wide and calm, and the morning light made the coast and the town feel very welcoming.
After returning the key, I continued wandering around the town. Guernsey feels well cared for, and it shows in the details of its buildings and streets.
Walking and climbing built up an appetite, so I found a pub by the port and treated myself to a cider and some lunch.
Fish and chips, of course. A little smaller than expected, shrinkflation-edition, but still tasty and just what I needed.
The streets were decorated with banners for Liberation Day. It has a strong meaning here, as Guernsey was the only part of the British Isles occupied during the Second World War. That memory remains very present, even 80 years later.
On the way back to the TWIKE, I passed the small port once again. It was as quiet as before, and the calm atmosphere was a pleasant companion for the afternoon.
Back at the TWIKE, I slowed the charging so it would finish just in time for boarding. With the warm air and quiet surroundings, I dozed off inside until my alarm reminded me it was time to move.
In the early evening I made my way to the ferry terminal and passed through security.
I even got my own lane to wait in, as nobody seemed quite sure how to classify the TWIKE.
The TWIKE was actually the first vehicle to roll onto the ferry, and the crew greeted it with curiosity and friendliness.
While I was securing the TWIKE, someone addressed me in Bernese Swiss German. I looked up to see a man with a small scooter from Bern, also being assisted by the staff. We had a pleasant chat before heading up to the passenger deck.
It took a while before all the cars were loaded, which gave me time to settle into a good seat with a view, just as I had done on the Calais to Dover crossing.
The view out to sea was wonderful, and I took the chance to experiment again with connecting to distant mobile networks. Not wanting to bore you with details again… (if you’re interested what I’m doing exactly, check this entry where I connect to faraway networks on the ferry from Barcelona to Genova.) My link worked more reliably than the ferry’s WiFi.
I also went to the back of the ferry to enjoy the sunset over the open sea. It was a peaceful way to end the day.
Some time later we approached St. Malo. The arrival was impressive, with rocky shallows guiding the way into the harbour and the town glowing in the evening light.
Once ashore, my hotel was only a few kilometres away. I checked in, parked the TWIKE and was asleep within twenty minutes, grateful for rest after a very long day.
Tomorrow would be another day of travel, this time across France – looking forward to it!
