Roundabout Guernsey:
From this heading, you might think the point of this post is to describe my visit to my sister’s home on Guernsey, the interesting time we had driving around the island, and what happened at the annual literary festival. And that is what I fully intend to do, but first I would like to mention some of the unique driving arrangements on the island of Guernsey, among which is the invisible “roundabout”.
Usually roundabouts are round, (hence the name), with a raised island in the middle which make them pretty easy to spot. However in Guernsey there are a number of “roundabouts” that are not round at all. They are typical four-way intersections; it looks like you just go straight through, or make a normal 90 degree turn, and to all intents and purposes, you do. But here’s the catch. You must follow “roundabout” driving rules. Normally that would mean you give priority to traffic already in the roundabout circle, which in the UK always comes from the right. But in these cases, because there is no circle to enter, you end up giving priority to all the traffic coming in from the roadway to the right of you. Depending on the time of day, and where you are going, this can take quite awhile, and there is definitely a bit of “edging out and making a run for it” that occurs.
The problem is, that it is not obvious how a visitor would know that these ordinary looking intersections behave like roundabouts, and even my sister had trouble trying to identify a marker. Like most Guernsey drivers she just “knows”. However she took it up with her friends, and after some debate they concluded that there is supposed to be a small painted circle in the middle of the intersection. I never noticed one, perhaps because everyone drives right over it. It would only be visible, (if it hasn’t worn away), when there is no one in the intersection…in which case, of course, it would not matter so much.
Then there are the “filter-in” four-way intersections. They are clearly marked “FILTER IN” before you get to them. Very helpful. Has anyone outside the Channel Islands ever heard this term? I think not. At these intersections, no one has priority; it is a matter of keeping an eye out, slowing down, and if there are other cars about, you stop. Then it is “first-come first-served” to go through, deferring to the right if there is any doubt. These are a bit like our four-way stops, without the stop signs. Thankfully the speed limit is low.
Speaking of stop signs…you will not see the internationally recognized red and white variety…so how do you know where to stop? You watch for a yellow line painted across the road… yes, yellow…and that means you stop and yield to oncoming traffic. But if the yellow line is on the side of the road, it means you must never stop there except to avoid an accident. Confused? It is no surprise that the government of Guernsey posts an article on their tourism website entitled, with typical British understatement, “Driving in Guernsey is different”.
The rest of the driving is perfectly straightforward, if you don’t mind that most of the two-way rural roads are barely wide enough for one car, and are bordered by tall hedgerows or granite walls. These make it necessary to pull into a driveway or intersection, backing up if necessary, to accommodate an oncoming car. You are just as likely to encounter horses, cattle or, heaven help them, cyclists, and you’ll need to back up for them as well. Guernsey drivers are quite insouciant about all this, but visitors can easily get rattled.
However, if you are lucky enough to be driven around by your sister or brother-in-law, to some of their favourite places, you will be blown away by the beautiful and varied scenery that characterizes this lovely small island.
This is perfect place to own a dog, and sure enough Chris and Rob have welcomed a new family member: the Lurcher (aka Asha). I have never seen a lurcher before, in fact I had not even heard of the breed, but I have learned since that a lurcher is always a cross with a “sight-hound”, dogs such as greyhounds, whippets, wolfhounds etc. They are hunting dogs cross-bred for speed and the ability to hunt by sight, as opposed to scent. They run unbelievably quickly and very quietly, so as not to scare their prey…(or the toy that you throw for them). And they can look quite different, depending on what was crossed with what. I have to say, I am very partial to the term “lurcher”, which has nothing to do with how they move; they are quite graceful. It apparently derives from the Romani words for “thief” (lur) and “mutt” (cur). No surprise that it was a popular dog for poachers! Here she is, an energetic speedster who either runs like the wind, or passes out on the couch. Nothing in between.
My visit was timed to coincide with Guernsey’s literary festival, and it was a revelation in a number of ways. It was my first one, and I found that I really enjoyed hearing authors talk about their work, especially the fiction writers. One of them was Rachel Joyce who wrote “The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry”. I read that book years ago and loved it. She was such an engaging speaker that I promptly downloaded her new book: The Music Shop”. It occurred to me that book signings must surely suffer from the e-reader phenomenon.
We also heard from travel adventurers who write about their improbable adventures, such as the 50 something year old woman who tried to run across the USA in 53 days. (Why 53 days? She wanted to beat the previous female record of 63 days.) At the equivalent of two marathons a day, she finally had to throw in the towel after 2,000 miles. (Or lose a knee…which she may yet do.) Now she plans to take up long distance cycling. Really? With damaged knees?
There was also an Aussie who spent a year kayaking, hiking and cycling around the Mediterranean. At the point that he realized that it would be far too dangerous to cycle through Libya, (this was a surprise?), he traded his bicycle for a sea rowboat and almost died in a freak storm on his way to Greece. There seems to be no sensible limit to what some writers will do for copy.
Then there was the writer who took his girlfriend to a famously beautiful river in India and arranged a boat full of flowers and fruit to romance her in. Neglecting to consider some of the many uses to which rivers are put in India, they embarked one foggy morning to watch the sun rise, when she suddenly noticed as the fog lifted, an arm, attached to a corpse, that somehow had draped itself over the side of the boat, and which was impossible to detach in any respectful manner.
The relationship did not last.
Does anyone remember Pete Seeger? Well, his half-sister Peggy is still going strong at 82 (!), and has written a memoir which she promoted by way of a concert on the opening night. Naturally we had to go, and it gave me a chance to reconnect with another old friend, Carol, who has made Guernsey her home. It was fun to listen to Peggy and her son; her vocal range was probably only half an octave, but boy can she ever play the guitar, banjo and piano! Flying fingers. I never knew this before, but the song “The first time ever I saw your face”, (which Roberta Flack made famous), was written about Peggy in 1957 by actor/musician Ewan MacColl, who made it his mission to seduce her. He was 42; Peggy was 21. (If you’ve ever heard that song, you will realize that she never had a chance.) He was married at the time, but not for long; Peggy soon became his wife.
Guernsey is blessed not only with a great deal of natural beauty, rural charm, and the very attractive town of St. Peter’s Port but also, possibly most importantly from a dining perspective, proximity to France. This has ensured the migration of a number of talented chefs, wait staff, and restaurant owners that has contributed to the high quality of cuisine on the Island. As in Manchester, Chris picked several fabulous places, and we ate very well…possibly too well.
One of the features of the Guernsey restaurant experience that I truly admire, is a service called “Home James”. If you are out at a charming French restaurant (as we were), and that extra glass of wine is calling your name (which it was), you have only to call “Home James”, and a young person will pull up on a scooter at a time and place of your choosing.
Then he folds up the scooter, puts it in your trunk, and drives you home.
Once you get home, he takes out his scooter, and goes back to town to do it all over again. After all, driving in Guernsey is different.
The weather on Guernsey can be quite cool, and so it was when I was there, but the island’s residents are hardy souls. It was not unusual to see people, like my brother-in-law Rob, walking about in temperatures of 10-12 degrees or so in shorts and tee shirts. (I was bundled up in sweater and raincoat!) Then there is my sister who routinely goes swimming with her friends on chilly 10 degree mornings… in the English Channel!…an exceptionally frigid body of water. I am in awe… but also a bit baffled by the idea that anyone would do this by choice.
After four terrific days of fine dining, literary adventures, great scenery, dog walking and good company, I said goodbye to Chris, Rob and the Lurcher at the airport, and left for Tel Aviv. One delay, one missed flight, and four airports later I touched down in Israel, but that is the subject of another story!