Departing Punta Arenas in glorious sunshine to arrive in RAF Mount Pleasant in the middle of a storm. What an arrival. No photos allowed, but we can see some shiny new Typhoons in their hangars, and an announcement that we were in an area subject to the Official Secrets Act (I'm sure I've signed this before – along with a declaration that I had never conspired to bring down a democratically elected government, or been an active member of a terrorist organisation), and a feeling very much like we're all still on an active war alert down here. Also a Phantom is on display in the car park. 
The drive down into Stanley takes us 
past clearly marked minefields and “Slow Minefield” signs, all in the familiar British style. It's hard to believe we've just flown over an hour from Chile into a bastion of Britishness.
Stanley is just how it looks in the pictures, all the properties having brightly painted roofs. Checked into Kay's B&B which would be our home for our first week before heading out up camp to do our bird survey volunteering for Falklands Conservation. Most British people will only think of the war when they hear of the Falkland Islands, but they're also a biodiversity hotspot, home to significant populations
of penguins and other sea birds, most of which have very little data recorded about them. It's also a significant stopping off point for cruise ships and expeditions to Antarctica and South Georgia, with the British Antarctic Survey having a significant base there.
Visited the Magellenic Penguin colonies at Gypsy Cove and trekked out to the lighthouse at Cape Pembroke (we borrowed the enormous key from the museum) and visited the memorial to Atlantic Conveyor, which was sunk off the coast. 
Also saw the mine disposal team from Zimbabwe who have finally began to clear the 25 – 30,000 mines layed by the Argentines during the conflict. Most are plastic and extremely difficult to detect, so the policy until now has been containment, all the fields are clearly marked.
Took a trip to Volunteer Point to see the colony of 500 pairs of King Penguins. An experience in itself to get there, it's about 3 hours drive from Stanley, the road stops at Port Lewis (the site of the original settlement on the islands), the last two hours are 4 wheel driving across peat bog with no tracks to follow. Keith Heathman took us there, as there's no maps of how to get there, and if you're lucky enough to find a hire car you'll not be allowed to take it off road. And this isn't the territory for a little splashing around in a muddy field on a Sunday afternoon – if you get stuck, you've either got to dig yourself out, or it's a long, long walk for help.
Just an amazing sight to see the King Penguins. As long as you keep a respectable distance, they really aren't too concerned with the presence of people in their territory. Sitting still, many will just walk past you or have a look to see what is going on. Some had just hatched chicks, and there was a variety of sub-adults looking very fluffy. Beautiful creatures.
Had a few evenings in one of the local pubs, a night at the Victory Bar drinking Spitfire, followed by a meal at 
Fred's Burger Van, where I introduced Celine to the British delicacy of the pickled egg. 
Popped in one evening to the Rose and made friends with a few semi-locals who invited us around the following day for dinner (Indian food, cooked by Mo, who's a chef trainer and the relief anaesthetist who's also a real Indian!)
Friday was the day where we prepared for our expedition... see the following post on the surveys! For the pictures of our first week in the Falklands, click here.
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