BUSINESS LEADERS CONDEMN SALMOND’S ENERGY POLICY

In a week where Druim Ba Sustainable Energy has decided to go to appeal after having their planning application for a massive wind farm rejected by Highland Council, Scotland’s business leaders are getting their act together and attacking Alex Salmond’s ruinous energy policy.

Thanks to Lyndsey for providing the link to this article from the Daily Telegraph:

The costs of Alex Salmond’s green energy revolution are “going through the roof” and threaten to bankrupt companies by doubling energy bills, business leaders have warned the First Minister.

The Scottish Chambers of Commerce have warned relying on renewable energy could see consumer bills double Photo: PA

By Simon Johnson, Scottish Political Editor

6:00AM BST 29 Sep 2011

The Scottish Chambers of Commerce (SCC) said electricity is currently about nine times more expensive to generate from wind farms than gas-powered plants.

Mike Salter, the SCC chairman, told the organisation’s annual dinner that Government energy experts predict greater reliance on “very expensive” renewables will lead to consumers’ electricity bills doubling. He warned this would hold back the Scottish economy and lead to businesses going under. If this is the consequence, he questioned whether Mr Salmond’s “total commitment” to green energy is “misguided”.

In a double whammy for hard-pressed companies, he said the SNP’s decision to increase business taxes by £849 million threatens to “suck the life” from the economy.

The damning intervention came shortly after Mr Salmond was among the audience for a speech by Al Gore, the former US Vice President, at a “green finance” conference in Edinburgh.

RELATED ARTICLES

• View from Donald Trump's golf resort 'will be spoilt by windfarm'

  10 Aug 2011

• It's Chris Huhne’s windfarms that are inflating energy bills

  20 Sep 2011

• Foreign firms reap £500m a year in subsidies from UK wind farms

  18 Sep 2011

• Wind farm paid to produce no electricity

  17 Sep 2011

• Alex Salmond's green energy policy 'will double power bills'

  15 Jun 2011

Mr Gore said Scotland is a world leader in renewable energy, but admitted that wave and tide energy is at “an earlier stage of investigation or development”.

The First Minister has set a target that Scotland generate the equivalent of all the country’s electricity from green sources by the end of the decade, but industry experts have questioned whether this timetable is possible.

Rupert Soames, the chief executive of Aggreko, one of the country's largest energy generators, has described the strategy as “bonkers” because it failed to recognise the “cold realities” of financing expensive new forms of green technology.

Mr Salter did not use such outspoken language but made clear to the audience, which included Mike Russell, the SNP Education Minister, and Michael Moore, the Scottish Secretary, that he shared similar concerns. Referring to offshore wind farms, he told the dinner in Glasgow: “The costs of these projects is going through the roof. “The Scottish government have committed to have the majority of generation coming from this very expensive source by 2020. All I say at this time is- have a care!

“If as a consequence the rest of the economy is disadvantaged then perhaps such a total commitment is misguided. Other lower cost technologies are available.”

These include nuclear energy, which Mr Salmond has discarded. Mr Salter said a recently-announced wind farm in the Irish Sea will cost £1.6 billion, 25 per cent more than projections in spring last year.

Citing Mott MacDonald, a Government energy consultancy, he said the cost of generating electricity from wind farms is approaching 19p per kilowatt hour (kWh), the unit of electrical energy. This compares with the wholesale “spot price” of gas, which costs between 1.75p and 2p. Mr Salter said electricity currently costs consumers about 12.4p per kWh.

But Mott MacDonald estimates this will double to 25p thanks to the additional expense of wind farms and public subsidies for the renewable energy industry.

The SCC also attacked the SNP’s spending plans, announced last week, which rely on generating an extra £849 million in business rates over the next three years. The money is needed to fund populist policies, such as free bus passes for the elderly.

Mr Salter warned the tax hike would harm job creation, adding: “The balance seems to have been lost somewhere. It is fine to have a social agenda funded directly by government, but the biggest and best social agenda must be to have people gainfully employed and paying their way.

“Please! Think again before this misguided regime sucks the life out of SME (small and medium enterprises) in Scotland.”

STIRRING STUFF FOR AN INDIAN SUMMER

No; nothing to do with preparing your dehydrated backpacking meals but equally as nutritious. Feed your soul, turn up the speakers and fill your mind with a little bit of heaven in England.

(I quite like it, you see)

And this one is for all you bassoonists out there: (from Italy)

And back to England again.

THE WRONG TROUSERS! (ii)

Almost five years ago now, I bought an excellent pair of trousers.

I chose them for my LEJOG, principally for walking in the more populated areas and for wearing in hotels. I needed the trousers on sartorial grounds because back then my legwear of choice for the hills were Polartec Tights; not a good look when combined with my big leather Scarpa Nepal boots – very Max Wall.

My Patagonia Simple Guide Pants were superb trousers and I reviewed them after my LEJOG’s four months of hard use, here. I continued to use them for another 3 years of TGO Challenges and now they are quite knocked about yet still appear to show remarkably little wear to the casual observer. (Are there people who go about casually observing men’s trousers?) However, they have a problem:

When the Good Lord Above, or whoever it was who gives out body parts to newly born babes, dispensed the various bits of my anatomy, it has to be said he was a bit mean in one or two departments deemed crucial for young chaps. Nevertheless, the Old Boy was generous when he dished out my nice long legs. However, rather like the young Milligan, they do resemble two pieces of knotted string hanging from my underpants.

My old Patagonia trousers looked fine with great big Scarpa Nepal boots – the regular leg length finished just over the top of the boot collar which meant that they never got too muddy. However, for the last two years, I have been wearing these technical plimsolls and the trousers now looked very odd, finishing above the ankle. Not a good look.

I have floundered about trying to get a pair of trousers the right leg length for these shoes that don’t have the look of hundreds of pockets strapped to the legs & arse which seem to be suited to some sort of Action Man Backwoods figure. I thought I was almost there in April when I bought a pair of Montane trousers but having seen a photo of myself wearing them I think they look ghastly; a terrible shapeless cut. And more crucially, the wrong colour. They are….. The Wrong Trousers!

I found myself in London yesterday morning on a mission to nip in to Snow & Rock in Covent Garden to pick up some nice new fluffy merino socks in between dashing between Waterloo & Kings Cross. Oddly, I just could not remember where on earth it was. I knew I was in the right area and I knew it was down a side street off a main drag. I nipped up and down a few and then, quite by accident came upon this place:

After strolling through the portal it struck me how empty the place was. It turned out that the shop was not yet officially open, whatever that means. They did have a really nice pair of socks and then I found myself in the trousery section…

And came away having spent far too much money on another pair of Patagonia Simple Guide Pants, in black. Strangely, this pair has a longer leg, which is jolly wonderful. They have pockets (2 hip, 1 on the bottom and 1 on the leg) but they are discreet, and zipped. At first glance, they look like a very nice casual trouser. Patagonia’s website states that in medium they have a 32” inside leg. The ones I have bought measure 33” and so are perfect. Comparing them to my old trousers they are an extra 2.5 inches longer. The leg is also slightly roomier, which is fine. They are still a slim style. They have also done away with the draw-cord waist and now resemble any normal trouser. They don’t have the natty little cord zip pulls that the old models had, so I just swapped them from the old to the new trousers.

Even now, I am not sure I could tell you exactly where the shop is but it must be fairly close to Snow & Rock (wherever that is!). There are no signs protruding from the wall to catch your eye; blink and you would miss it. I can’t even find its address on the till receipt. Maybe it was all a dream.

But at last, I have the Right Trousers!

HIGHLAND COUNCIL REJECTS DRUIM BA

A rather nice surprise today: From the BBC website:

“Plans for 23 turbines at Druim Ba between Kiltarlity and Abriachan have been rejected by Highland councillors. The turbines would reach to 149.5m (490ft) from the ground to the tip of a blade at its highest point.

Developer Druim Ba Sustainable Energy is proposing creating the wind farm in a forestry plantation. ‘Druim Ba Say No’ Action Group has opposed the planning application. The Scottish government has still to consider the project.

A local Highland Council planning committee voted against the plans. Councillors said the visual impact and the effect on an important tourist area would be unacceptable.”

THE MONADHLIATH RING OF STEEL

So – It’s up to Alex and his merry band now. I just wonder: If this one can be stopped there’s every chance that Allt Duine can be too.

VICIOUS PENGUIN ATTACK…

I was appalled…

THE UPLANDS OF MAR

(NO: THIS MAP IS NOT OF THE UPLANDS OF MAR: READ ON! CLICK ON IT LATER WHEN IT MAKES SENSE…)

The first time I filled in a route sheet for the TGO Challenge, back in 1994, I struggled with the Gaelic place names enormously. I transcribed names of streams, hills and villages religiously but their names meant nothing to me. Over the years I have come to absorb these name and to understand what they mean which can be a great help when planning a route.

With the good ol’ internet, there are loads of places to get grips with the Gaelic place names; HERE is one of my favourites.

I had come across one term over the years that I had taken to understand simply as a little stream; “caochan”. This year on the TGO Challenge I had a “two caochans” day.

I came across the first little gem, Caochan Crom nan Eag, before it spilled into Allt Spioradail, which tumbled down towards the bothy on the Dulnain in the Monadhliath Mountains. Like a lot of high moorland streams, at its start it comes and goes, disappearing occasionally underground – you can hear the hollow gurgling noises as it rushes through the peat tunnels beneath your feet.

As I climbed up through what is to become the Allt Duine Power Station, a few miles further on I crossed the Caochan Easg an Lochain, gurgling away from its source in Loch a Choin Duibh. It was another gushy little little gem that I could see coming and going as I looked up at it.

I had thought no more about those little streams since then, apart from looking back over my trip when failing to sleep at night (very relaxing, re-walking wonderful strolls lying in bed at night).

And then I found a wonderful website. It’s name is “The uplands of Mar”. I think Chris Townsend had pasted either a link to it either on Facebook or Twitter (thankfully, usually both with Chris). ‘The Uplands of Mar’ is a labour of love compiled by Joe Dorward, who describes himself thus:

“Joe Dorward is a (ruined) writer with a professional interest in technology, and an un-professional interest in the place names, history, and geography of the upland of Mar.  He's the happy author of several (out of print) books, and, as the webitor-in-chief, is responsible of most of the content so-far”

What an absolute treasure trove! The site concentrates exactly as the title of the site suggests; on the uplands of Mar, near Braemar. But a great deal of what Joe describes in this one corner of the Scottish Highlands can be readily transposed to all other areas. The site is broken down into Photographs, Place Names, Buildings, Crossings, Biographies, ‘Navig—Aids’ and Transcriptions.

He describes glacial outwash channels, river terraces, terminal moraines and how they are all formed. He even tells you about caochans.

I won’t tell you any more of what you can find on his wonderful site. Go and take a look for yourself. Give yourself some time though as there is tons of good writing and pictures to rummage through. 

Ravel Bolero: Copenhagen Central Station Flash Mob

ALLT DUINE WIND POWER STATION: THE VISUAL IMPACT

The attentive amongst our congregation may remember me making mention of the proposed Wind Power Station to be sited slap bang on the boundary of the Cairngorm National Park Boundary.

Today I found a wonderful website, Scotland-Landscapes.com that shows just how visible this wind power station will be in the Highlands of Scotland. It’s actually quite shocking:

CLICK ON THE MAPS TO SEE THEM IN GREATER DETAIL

For the wider area of the Highlands they have come up with this map:

Visit their website to find interactive maps of the visual impact.

TGO CHALLENGE 2012: The cheques are in the post

With the shock withdrawal of Lord Elpus from next year’s TGO Challenge, Mad’n’Bad Andy & me had a committee meeting over the telephone. We had to get ‘Wee Willy Wilky’ on board for the Challenge in 2012.

Churchillian (see picture above) David Harry Wilkinson, or ‘Wilky’ to his mates or ‘Wee Willy Wilky’ to all the girls (just to make the distinction between him and the David Wilkinson who already does the Challenge, you understand) came with Andy Walker & me last year from Braemar to St Cyrus to do a small section of the Challenge as a ‘taster’. He suffered the privations and traumas of Bingo Wings, the Fife Arms, Lochcallater Lodge, almost being burned alive in Gelder Shiel, smashed by the Hurricane, slaughtered at the Masons and finally making it in one (slightly tattered) piece at St Cyrus as a dry run for 2012’s Challenge.

So, we told Wilky that he had promised us faithfully at the party at Stan & Bill’s (it will always be Stan & Bill’s) at somewhere about 2:30 in the morning that he would come back in 2012 to do the whole thing . And Wilky is a man of his word and so with his arm bent so far up his back that every joint was squeaking, he finally agreed to keep his word. (We had to loosen a few finger nails as well.)

Now; this next bit is a secret, so don’t let on if you see him. But! By 2:00am both Andy & I were fast asleep in our cots and only the die-hard drinkers were still left partying downstairs at that hour, Wilky amongst them. He didn’t look too clever in the morning but was still man enough and ‘up-for-it’ to brave the hurricane that was to come that day!

Such was the combination of his socks and plimmies that Wilky finished the walk to St Cyrus with feet that resembled chopped liver. So we need to get him properly shod in time for next year.

Other than that, he is obviously the perfect man for the job. Our entry form and cheques are currently winging their way to Deppity Dawg, the New Coordinator of the Challenge

Be gentle with us in the draw, please, John!

Jersey: The Channel Island Way: 11: FINAL THOUGHTS

From the preceding ten posts, those of the congregation that stayed with me and didn’t run screaming after I mentioned the words “Geography lesson” – Jolly Well Done! You are the true heroes of the last ten posts. You have stuck with my daily diary entries about the hell that is Jersey.

Mark & I suffered. Yes; it was hell out there, enjoying the hospitality provided by Jersey Tourism on your behalf. Those lunches and dinners just don’t eat themselves, you know. And in between the fine dining we hiked and toiled our way along sections  of the Channel Island Way that were sensationally scenic.

Wherever we were, we bumped into happy smiley people who genuinely believed that they inhabited a little piece of paradise on earth. And who can blame them? At every turn on our walks we encountered either beauty at the intimate level of the flowers and insects or the sheer physical pleasure of the wonderful coastal scenery:

If you enjoy coastal walking, think of Jersey a little like you would think of Cornwall. But think of it as Cornwall done properly:

• No litter
• No peeling paint
• Happy, smiling service
• Good quality, good value accommodation
• More sunshine
• Empty, clean beaches
• Great restaurants, cafes & pubs.
• A friendly welcome
• And – for walkers – no barbed wire! (a point close to my heart)

Hopefully, I have furnished you with the required tools to enjoy the walk and the desire to go and have a look for yourself. I shall definitely be going back next year to have an even more languorous lope about the island.

I was told before I set out for Jersey that the island gets under your skin. It certainly has for me: I can’t wait to have another look.

JERSEY: THE CHANNEL ISLAND WAY: 10: The North Coast

OR     WHAT WE DID INSTEAD OF AN AFTERNOON SNOOZE

Whilst waiting for our post prandial limo to arrive, I took a peek at the bus stop. Frankly I was really surprised at how many buses there were. This is apparently the norm for Jersey, so expensive limos are not a requirement for a walking trip round the island based at, say, one location in St Helier, or wherever. If you click on this picture I have made it available in a jolly large size so you can see how frequent the buses are.

This next shot wasn’t actually taken on the north coast – our next destination but it shows, for records sake, the guide posts that are dotted along the Channel Island Way. It would be pretty difficult to get lost!

Our post-lunch limo now whisked us off to the north of the island, to experience the majesty of the scenery to be found there. Dropped off near Les Colombiers, we strolled down the hill passing the clay pigeon shooting range, which seemed to be doing good business and had me ducking at the sound of every 12-bore gunshot. It must have been at one of my deeper ducks that I came face to face with this little beauty, which Mark recognised instantly as Sheep’s-bit.

The view from the elevated cliff path was extensive and islands could be spotted far out to sea. At this point my camera froze on me! No amount of beating, pleading or cajoling would get the lens back out from it’s ‘sleep’ position and so I am afraid the next two shots I have had to lift from the web, but they show exactly where we were and what we saw. Honest! I wasn’t still in the Crab Shack eying up the second pudding menu. Only at the cafe at the end of the walk, dropping the camera on the cafe table did the lens re-appear so I could toddle down to the sea to take a few more snaps.

That’s the second time it’s done that recently. I think it needs Stern Words.

We rounded the headland at La Tete de Plemont, beneath the sad remnants of the old Pontins holiday camp, now a target for graffiti ‘artists’ and surrounded by the only barbed wire I saw on the entire trip (if you don’t count the tall fences around the prison at La Moye on the south coast – which we thought was pretty fair!)

The paths in Jersey are wonderfully clear of any obstruction; be it from overgrown vegetation (the local volunteer police force enforces the Branchage – the twice yearly cutting back of all overhanging vegetation) so that all paths are delightfully clear of anything to snag you. I honestly do not remember encountering a single strand of barbed wire near any of the paths we walked. Jersey really is walker-friendly.

This next picture is the shot just before we dropped down to the cafe at Plemont for a welcome coffee, about halfway down.

Having un-jammed my mis-behaving party camera, I nipped down the walkway past the splendid cafe (who sold beers and ice cream and all manner of wonderful sticky cakes amongst other hot snacks) and over a bridge over swirling seas onto the rocks to watch the high tide with some families there enjoying the afternoon.

Then, back to the limo to be dragged, screaming, to a pub in St Helier to sample Liberation Ale (a Jersey pint). This was just to steady ourselves for the onslaught of yet another magnificent meal at the The Inn and another night trawling the St Helier pubs afterwards.

You know, Mark & I suffered this hospitality in a stoical fashion; not once letting the other know the pain he was suffering to get these reports out to the world. If you look closely, you can make out the pain-wracked expression on Mark’s face. (He’s the chap on the right of the picture. The other is Arthur, our tormentor.)

We deserve medals.

JERSEY: THE CHANNEL ISLAND WAY: 9: Lunch, St Brelade’s

OR      I WONDER WHAT’S FOR PUDDING!

Look. Everyone deserves a break now & then. This was my lunchtime tucker at the Crab Shack at St Brelade. Someone needed to test out the menu. You can’t have hungry walkers turning up not knowing about what’s available, can you? No. Of course not. It was my duty. I was helping out.

It was delicious. Highly recommended.

Let’s not go too overboard with the salad, now.

JERSEY: THE CHANNEL ISLAND WAY: 8: The South West

OR        WHAT WE DID BEFORE A LOVELY LUNCH 

Another day, another limo trip; this time to the south western tip of Jersey, La Corbiere. Blessed with more glorious weather (and a slightly muzzy head from the Cultural Shenanigans of the previous night) we were on the headland staring out southwest into the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean and la Belle France, just out of sight to the left – Brittany.

This is another fascinating stretch of coastline with oodles of history crammed into every hundred yards or so. As an engineer, I have to tell you that the lighthouse in the picture was the first constructed in the British Isles from reinforced concrete, back in 1873. You learn things if you stick around, see? All the others who ran out of the class room missed this fascinating fact…

Moving on! For the geologists amongst us – there is no need to be ashamed; be proud of your dirty little habit, it’s not everyone who feels the urge to grovel around on their hands & knees with a magnifying glass, getting all muddy and ruining their fingernails – we have caves and quarries to visit!

For the boys in the congregation, here is a gratuitous photograph of the fast ferry – a catamaran, I believe – whizzing its way to St Helier from Weymouth. It’s quite a sight and you feel it coming before you see it – the throb of its engines being quite physical.

The path, not on the C.I.Way, clambers over the lower granite beneath the cliffs – but be careful as this is tidal and you could get into a bit of bother here if the tide was to come in as it does it at quite a rate as it has a massive range of about 40 feet. But we were brave and carried on, completely oblivious to this fact until we realised that the cave was a dead end and we had to get back to where we started from…

It was worth all that peril though.

The clamber back up the staired cliff path is never too strenuous as I would guess that the top is never more than 150ft or so from the bottom. Even my Mum could do it. The stairs are all pretty good – with timber treads with protruding steel staples for extra grip. Handrails occasionally, too!

We then came across this strange construction; it’s the way the engineers get heavy parts down to the pump house at the bottom. It’s the inlet for the desalination plant higher up the cliff. Again, if you are of that mind-set; fascinating stuff.

I will never forget this view. (below) The construction on top of the cliff is a German Sighting Tower, now a place to stay on your holidays. Click on the picture for a better view.

Off again, this time to seek out one of nature’s wonders; a blow hole. When the Atlantic comes crashing in this is supposed to be a dramatic sight. It looked pretty impressive from where we were standing too. In the foreground you’ll notice that the gorse has been nibbled at – what on earth nibbles gorse like this? Whatever it is must have steel jaws as the gorse scratches like crazy through your trousers.

Geologists – feast your eyes on this quarry. The rock is just beautifully fine-grained and a splendid honey colour. Jersey granite is sought-after the world over. I’m quite surprised that there is so much of the island left as there are little quarries all over the place. Some make lovely suntraps and artists have sculptures dotted around to be enjoyed along the cliff paths and quarries. All delightfully civilized.

This next shot is just to show that where there are the occasional up and down bits, the walker is well served by nice staircases, handrails and delightful little paths.

This next picture really sums up for me Jersey's potential as a great walking destination. It’s Le Beauport. Just before lunch-time in August on a week day, there were just EIGHT people on this glorious beach, which is just a two minute walk from the car park at the top of the hill, and just a five minute walk from a busy little town with fantastic cafes and restaurants; St Brelade. Dead easy, even for families with young children too.

Before lunch, we just had time to visit the Fisherman’s Chapel at St Brelade Church with its fifteenth century wall paintings. I came over all ‘choirboy’ here. Very cool, serene and timeless: That’s the chapel, not me. I am the hot, flustered and aged looking wreck.

JERSEY: THE CHANNEL ISLAND WAY: 7: St Helier

OR: HER MADGE’S CULTURAL AMBASSADORS…

Quite amazingly, after such a torrid day of strenuous activity, Mark felt that we had not earned our suppers and so after a bit of prodding I agreed that our Limo should drop us off at Liberation Square so that we could explore St Helier and perhaps make a little room for the inevitable wonderful dinner back at The Inn. At way passed his ‘going home time bell’ Arthur gamely bounced out as well and guided us round a bit of St Helier. Above & Beyond, Arthur – thank you.

There is quite a bit to find of interest and we duly poked about in some unlikely corners, turning up a hidden “V for Victory” cleverly designed into the wartime cobbles as an act of resistance, which I singularly failed to record as I am afraid I had just been told of a pub right next to it called the “Cock & Bottle” which served real ale and that seemed to hold my interest a little better. Having looked at the reviews of this place for food though, I wouldn’t eat there. The drinks were fine though and the pub is full of character.

I am sure Arthur would never forgive me if I didn’t make mention of Lillie Langtry.  If you put aside for one moment Jersey Royal potatoes, Jersey cream and Jim Bergerac, she’s one of Jersey’s finest exports. Those amongst the congregation desperate to find out all about her exploits, conquests and gloriously debauched life, can click HERE to see Mark’s research on the wonderful woman.

I am afraid I had to lift the pictures of the two Victorian covered markets from the internet as they were just closing when we strolled around town. The two markets looked like a great place to go shopping to cook up a treat for yourself. I shall definitely be going back as I adore these places.

Then it was a swift hike back uphill (we had to walk off the calories somehow) to the hotel to ready ourselves for ‘Wings of Fire’, a ‘Beef Sizzler’ and one of the most perfect crème caramels ever! The restaurant has great food and very friendly staff.

But the night was still young… So we strolled downhill back into town to try out one of Arthur’s recommendations; ‘The Lamplighter’ which had a selection of real ales. So we tried all of them, just in the interest of research. One of them was really really good, so we had a few more of them, just to make sure. The pub is also renowned for its whisky collection. That was a close shave; I only spotted them when I couldn’t possibly squeeze any more in.

We fell in with a really fun bunch – Siobhan and her friend had just come back from a Headway meeting; a charity to help those with brain injuries, and were letting their hair down. So, we joined in. You have to, really: It’s good for Anglo-Jersey relations. Think of this trip as a peace keeping mission and Mark & me as Ambassadors for Her Madge. Andy, a regular at the Lamplighter, kindly emailed the photograph, below right, of Mark & I performing our ceremonial duties.

JERSEY: THE CHANNEL ISLAND WAY: 6: The East Coast (iii)

OR: DON’T MENTION THE WAR…

In previous posts I may have mentioned that in the past the French had cast their eye over Jersey and thought it might be worth a go – a bit like the Argentinians and The Falkland Islands, I suppose. Well, the Brits were having none of this and fortified the island to the teeth. You can’t have ‘Johnny Foreigner’ taking bites out of your Empire, can you now? Where would it all end? Defensive forts were built from the finest Jersey Granite along the entire coastline with heavy cannon installed to deter the French fleet.

When the construction of huge harbour walls started in earnest, to house the British fleet, that seemed to do the trick. The French finally gave up trying and went back about the business of global domination by stealth; developing the finest cuisine in the world and taking over that way.

So having dined rather well, on our ‘Gastro-Tour’ as Robin so succinctly dubbed our exploration of the wild coastline in the previous blogpost’s comments section,  we continued on our stroll down the east coast of Jersey. We started with a gentle amble down through the castle grounds and met with this rather striking fellow: My herpetology isn’t all it should be and I am guessing that it is a lizard?  Helpful comments identifying the chap (or chap-ess, perhaps?) would be appreciated. I was grateful that the little fellow stayed still long enough to be recorded on my incredibly slow party camera.

Arthur, our Blue Badge Guide, let us know that you could spend a very happy afternoon exploring the castle, which has quite a history. There really is absolutely piles of stuff to do around here; the walk could be easily be broken down, as suggested in the guide book, into little fragments as eating, drinking and generally enjoying being a tourist will fill the remaining part of your day quite comfortably.

Gorey is a rather splendid little place; nestling beautifully beneath the castle and cuddling it’s sandy harbour with boats bobbing about. Cafes and some quite smart shops line the ‘main drag’. I did like their newsagent:

I shall now touch on some observations that really are quite shocking to a chap from the mainland:

• The phone boxes are all intact and are a resplendent bright yellow
• The civic amenities’ (bus shelters, public loos, public buildings etc - but you know what civic amenities are, don’t you, so there’s no need for this absurd explanation) paintwork is all immaculate.
• Benches to relax upon and enjoy the wonderful views are intact, comfortable and numerous.
• I did not spot a single piece of litter ANYWHERE on the entire trip.

Quite a culture, shock, really…

Right! Enough of the smug ramblings of a contented Englishman abroad! Onwards. We are heading south once more along the sweeping strand of La Baie du Vieux Chateau and soon we leave the cultured environs of Gorey and find ourselves on the golf course. To the sides of the immaculate fairways, the rough hosts wonderful little plants like the sea holly, above right. I would have been quite happy to try out my collapsible hiker’s lob wedge and chase my divots around the course but I was persuaded to stow it back in my rucksack. Members only, I am afraid… It did look quite lovely and hardly a soul was out to play on it. It looked ideal for a little one man tent on those billiard table smooth baize greens…

We’ll move on, before Jersey Tourism take me away in one of their chauffer driven white vans. There are lots of dungeons in Jersey where I could be incarcerated and never ever be seen again.

Then we came to the really heavy business of the more recent fortifications put in place by the last lot of invaders.

The Channel Islands were occupied by the Germans for the five years between 1940 and 1945. The British gave them up as impossible to defend and so, apart from a couple of bombing raids, the Germans took over the running of the islands without having to storm the place. They were there in great force; there was approximately one German soldier for every two Channel Islanders. Hitler ordered that the Channel Islands were to be part of his ‘Atlantic Wall’ of defence and huge concrete defences were constructed using both slave and volunteer labour forces. Examples of these absolutely massive constructions can be seen all around the island; huge gun emplacements, machine gun nests and the huge anti-tank walls to the rear of the open beaches. A few of the larger examples are open to the public.

Jersey was liberated a long time after the Allies had invaded Europe, so cutting off the supply lines to the German garrisons. It also meant that the Germans and Islanders almost starved to death as the food supplies were cut off! Peace came to Jersey the day after it was declared in Europe.

We continued southwards towards Jersey’s south easterly tip at La Rocque, where the last failed French invasion took place; most of their ships having been caught on the dangerous reefs off-shore. If you look closely at the picture, below right, (click on it to enlarge it) you will see the the reefs that the French fleet foundered on, seen from the end of the breakwater.

Then it was off to St Helier in our air-conditioned black limousine for more fun and frolics – but more of that in the next post!