Vegging out in the sun

We have all experienced such holidays in our youth; holed up in an anonymous town just about the right side of seedy, with a plethora of old sailor pubs, fish and chip shops, and run-down stalls selling rock and candy floss.

The only redeeming feature of this ‘Little-Gopping-On-Sea’ is its proximity to the water and sneeze of a beach, which on six days out of seven is inaccessible anyway on account of the bitter sea winds and inevitable rain.

Now, there is nothing inherently wrong with such experiences. They are often fondly recalled and occupy a special place in the British holiday repertoire, but bracing myself for a Bognor Regis or Skegness type experience, I boarded the flight to St Peter Port. How wrong I was! I can but admit defeat and declare on Guernsey’s behalf that it is a calm and beautiful place, with a delightful hint of French influence and continental chic.

For a start, the weather is generally a couple of degrees warmer than the UK. That’s very important, of course.

Guernsey isn’t technically part of the UK, but an independent possession of the Crown and the island lies closer to the shores of northern France than to England.

This means that though some things are unmistakably British, like the language, some things are quite different; the post boxes are blue, for instance.

Guernsians are the most courteous drivers I’ve ever come across, which is terribly ‘Un-British’ of them. Considering my past experience of Italian and Spanish drivers, it isn’t terribly continental of them either but puts them in a class all their own.

A big yellow ‘H’ sign on my bonnet denoted ‘hire car’. On the windy lanes, and narrow roads the locals gave way to me every time.

At the many box junctions on the island the Guernsians have a ‘feed one car from each lane’ system. No one tries to jump in, everyone waits patiently for their turn.

At the sight of my ‘H’ sticker the other drivers smiled sympathetically and wondered how anyone could possibly cope outside of their system while kindly waving me through my turn. When the traffic lights in town go down, everyone reverts to this ‘one car feed’ system and EVERYONE sticks to it. Perhaps it’s because no one is really in a rush to get anywhere that road rage is unheard of.

However, to think of Guernsey as a sleepy quiet place is to do it an injustice. Yes, it’s calm, and yes, it’s a little behind the times, but the most prolific industry here is now finance and to cope with the influx of yuppie bankers young and old there are great restaurants, bars, and water sport activities scattered across the island.

I took a wildlife-spotting trip out to Herm Island. The sea was calm, the sky was clear, and the skipper amused us greatly with sharp twists and turns on the waves that had us holding on for dear life and sending up curtains of salty spray.

On such tours there is no guarantee of a sighting of anything, but we came across a plethora of sea birds and a seal popped its’ head out of the water.

Just to be on the water on that beautiful evening was worth the whole trip. It signified what Guernsey is all about for me; the outdoors.

In drives around the island you may notice ‘hedge veg’ boxes at the side of the road.

For the purpose of selling excess produce that home growers can’t consume, these are the places to pick up fresh produce if you’re self catering. It’s how all the locals buy their fruit and veg.

The ‘hedge veg’ stalls operate on an honesty box system, which quite frankly couldn’t work in many other places. Thinking of my own neighbourhood, not only would the ‘hedge veg’ takings be spirited away, no doubt the boxes they were sitting in.

Knowing that it DOES work in Guernsey can’t help but endear the place to you even more.

It feels like people really and truly care about island life. So much so that, in a purposeful rejection of mass consumerism, there are no chain coffee shops or fast food restaurants anywhere on the island. Indeed, there is no need for such generic establishments in a place where local resources and ingredients are so overwhelmingly wonderful.

The lovely L’Escalier restaurant in St Peter Port showcases the best French cooking that the island has to offer. Delicious, classy and reasonable, the three-course early bird menu is the best option.

I was a little surprised when my fish pie arrived in a latte glass but nonetheless it was 'magnifique'.

Guernsey is a perfect fusion of the best of England and the best of France, and not only when it comes to cuisine. A big draw for French tourists is Hauteville House, the home of literary exile Victor Hugo who spent 15 years of his life here. The house is spectacularly decorated with curiosities from around the globe.

Hugo completed his world famous novel Les Miserables in the glass conservatory at the top of his house, overlooking St Peter Port Bay that feels much like the viewing station on a very large ship from which the Captain can sweep the horizon for dangers.

How anyone could be so ‘Miserable’ whilst looking out at that spectacular view is boggling, but Hugo was, and perhaps it’s a good thing.

Otherwise his great novel may have been less about ‘The Miserables’ and more about ‘The Quite Contenteds’, which doesn’t have the same ring to it.

So I was very wrong, Guernsey is an altogether very pleasant Little Britain.

I came away feeling much like a ‘Quite Contented’ myself and wondering when I could make a return journey.