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Published: April 5th 2006
At what point does an island stop being an island? For me, living in the UK does not make me feel like I’m living on an island despite the fact that we are isolated from the rest of the continent by a few miles of water. But how often do you actually see the sea? In my book, to qualify as living on an island, you have to, at least once in your working day, get even the faintest glimpse of that point where the deep blue meets the horizon.
I have resigned myself to the fact that temp work in Jersey means Financial Services. With that in mind I have taken a job at Barclays Bank. The prospect is not exactly thrilling, but I just have to tell myself it’s only for 6 months. If Financial Services is the fast food of temp work then Jersey is a supersized Big Mac meal. This sort of mind numbing, spirit crushing work is definitely not good for you in the long term, but it’s easy to get into, leaves you with plenty of money in your pocket and reminds you of the last time you swore you wouldn’t do it again.
Before I have to face the day-to-day grind I’ve been exploring my immediate surroundings.
For me this means heading to the beach at every opportunity. Unfortunately it’s been lashing with rain since we got here, the temperature is akin to that of Siberia and the wind just makes it worse. However, today the weather finally broke (in patches) and with just a few days before I’m due to start the 9 til 5 life, we finally had an opportunity to visit the beach.
La Greve D’Azette beach is only 10 minutes from our flat, slightly south-east of St.Heliers town centre. It’s a mile(ish) long stretch of sand that, despite it’s proximity to the islands main town, is completely litter-less. The views across the sand to the out-crops of rock that jut out of the English Channel are clear and dramatic. However, the same cannot be said of the view in the opposite direction. Unfortunately Jersey’s Planning Department seem to have a love affair with building tall unsightly things in all the places that you wouldn’t want them to be. Infact as nice as a stroll through St.Helier is, architecturally, it is a little like my Chilli con Carne.
The Tower
There are loads of these all round the island. As the Brits never threatened to retake the Island after the occupation, the Germans used them to play hide and seek. Experiment with a little bit of this, a little bit of that, mix it all together and hope it works. At the end of the day you end up with a plate of badly presented, dubious looking gruel with some vaguely recognisable lumps in it.
It tastes okay, but you wouldn’t serve it to anyone other than a close friend.
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