The Falkland islands wasn't really like I expected it.
The town of Stanley, which was an hours drive across mostly dirt road, was small and most of the houses were more like tin sheds with corrugated roofs than actual houses. The landscape is desolate, similar to the Scottish highlands but without the bog. The most surprising thing is that the accents are all English and being so far south I didn’t really expect that even though I knew it was a British colony.
The long under developed road, the no insurance policy. Pristine and clear beaches, landmines and partitions.
Broken boats and bars that served only canned alcoholic beverages.
The red buses, telephone and post boxes. The union jack roof. All British.
Walking in the hills, the soldiers that didn’t return.
The weather was surprising gusty but clear leaving behind it a beautiful tinted sun set.