Thirty years ago, almost to the day, I landed in the Falkland Islands on a flight from the UK and arrived in a place that felt very much like my childhood home. Pastoral, horticultural. The smell of peat fires as families here worked hard to heat their homes. Small allotments filled with rhubarb, potatoes, cabbages, daffodils. As it is early spring here, it is little unchanged apart from the lack of peat fires – the city here uses wind turbines to provide their homes with electricity and kerosene to heat their homes. Cleaner for sure, but perhaps less atmospheric.
The city was given recognition by Queen Elizabeth II on her Golden Jubilee. While you might imagine that the islands are populated with settlers from the UK, there are indeed 69 different nationalities living here. A modern world in this remote corner of our planet.
