Having savored the delights of Port Stanley we make our way to Bluff Cove and the lagoon behind it which is home to a large well established colony of gentoo penguins and a much smaller colony of king penguins. The first king penguins only arrived here 20 years ago. Although the numbers are still small they seem to like it here and much to everyone’s delight the colony grows a little larger each year.

We leave Port Stanley on one of the roads out of town. There is nothing to look at. We try counting cars to pass the time, but there aren’t any.

After thirty minutes we leave the paved road for something considerably less desirable. An endless unpaved trail stretches out in front of us, a stone river to our right and nothing much else for miles

Eventually we crest the brow of a hill and a huge wind swept sandy bay lies ahead of us, a desolate spot save for the penguins that cover it

Behind the bay is what is described as a lagoon, which looks even more desolate than the beach. On one side there is a small gathering of gentoos huddled together in the cold, identical in their black and white outfits. They are being watched by a handful of people identical in their blue and yellow outfits.

We have arrived at an interesting time in their breeding cycle (the penguins that is, not the people in blue!). The chicks are now fully grown teenagers and in many cases are bigger and fatter than their parents who have worked so hard to feed them over the last two months.

This one is so large it is hard to imagine that it can waddle anywhere, let alone paint his nails silver!. But he is going to have to get those perfectly manicured feet moving soon, because at this point the parents have had enough and have stopped feeding their young. They go out to sea one more time for a huge feed and come back to shore and go into what is called a catastrophic molt, when they lose all their old feathers and grow new ones. It is not a good look

It is a very unpleasant month for the parents. They can’t swim, so they can’t feed. They hang around in groups, cold and miserable thanks in part to the icy cold winds blowing across the lagoon.

As time goes on they get more and more grumpy. They bicker and fight all the time or simply lie down and look depressed

They live off their fat and whatever is in their stomachs. They lose a lot of weight and by the end of the four weeks they have no food left inside them and their poo is nothing but green bile. Definitely too much information, but I felt I should pass it on in the interests of your further education.

Meanwhile the young adults are beginning to realise there is no point in standing around waiting to be fed. That is not going to happen.

So they slowly start exploring. Finally the most adventurous one starts the long journey down to the beach. And then others begin to follow

They stand and look at the ocean for a while, their tiny little brains working out that this is where they have to go next. Once again it takes one brave teenager to make the first move

and then the rest follow

Like excited children they run into the sea waving their little arms in excitement, splash about a bit, and run back out.

They should be going off to sea to catch their own fish, but when you are this fat there is no need to bother.

So they just hang around for days playing in the surf and honing their swimming skills.

After a few days, the puppy fat starts to disappear, and their empty stomachs tells them it is time to get serious. Their life is no longer a game. They must make their way out past the surf and start looking for food.

Sadly this is where they are the most vulnerable. There are seals waiting for them in the surf. The seals too are hungry and the young inexperienced penguins make the perfect dinner

Those that make it will stay at sea for two years before a hunger of a totally different kind gets the better of them. The hunger for sex. They will return to the very same beach, do the dirty deed, have chicks and start the cycle all over again.

As the penguins go off to feed, so do we. It is bitterly cold we need to get warm. There is a tiny cafe waiting for us at the back of the beach. All they serve is hot tea, a warm welcome and homemade cakes

What could be more British

They have art on the wall which is a little strange

And a tiny museum which is even stranger. An eclectic selection of old photographs and newspaper clippings no doubt curated by an eccentric with the usual English sense of humour, a little naughty and a little weird.

I suspect the same person is responsible for the design of the men’s toilet, a room with a view!

The only thing weirder is the grey haired man taking the photo. I leave before anyone sees me.