When Margaret Thatcher started a war against Argentina in 1982 to maintain sovereignty over the Falkland Islands I’m not quite sure what she was thinking. The Falkland war has been satirically described as two bald men fighting over a comb. Maybe she wanted to further her domestic agenda or maybe she was just in love with the cutest most whimsical bird species on the planet: penguins

After an extremely rough night at sea that kept me sleepless and even got me scared at times we landed in Port Stanley at nine in the morning, the capital of the 3000 soul archipelago that looks a lot like the Scottish highlands and houses a little chunk of Britain in the middle of the south Atlantic.

Despite the rainy weather we directly made our way to the so-called Gypsy Cove, a beach with a seemingly tropical tint, to find penguins and indeed we did. Finally! An entire colony made up of three different species. What a peaceful and magical moment to stand right in front those equally majestic and cuddly creatures. They did acknowledge our presence with a slight turn of the head but didn’t seem to care much. While we were having a once in a lifetime moment they were just doing what they always do - standing around on the beach.

On the way back to the bus stop hail and rain got us soaking wet and by the time we were back in Stanley not even a little stay in a pub with cake and fish’n’chips could warm us up enough to keep us from rushing back to the ship and finish the day in the sauna.