The Channel Islands, Chipping Sudbury & London, England.

October 3-16, 2023

We’re off to the Channel Islands. Where? They are a group of islands in the English Channel very close to France. They are called Crown Dependencies, because while they are not part of the United Kingdom, the UK is responsible for their defense and international relations. That didn’t work out too well in WWII, but that’s for later. Why are we going there? Because our friend Iva has been and loved it and wanted to take husband Danny there. So she said, “come with us.” And here we are.

The flight over to London was uneventful, but then the fun started. Iva and Danny were on a separate flight and while we went through customs and security without a hitch, Iva and Danny got stuck in security and had to empty everything out, arriving at the British Air lounge very late while we waited for them for breakfast. Whatever. Hours later we boarded our connecting flight to Jersey and an hour later we arrived in Jersey.

JERSEY

Jersey has a population of 112,000 and while the language is English, they also speak a bastardized version of French since the island is so close to France.We passed through hamlets of stucco homes and low-rise apartment houses, many with balconies overlooking the Atlantic. In addition to being a place to avoid taxes, Jersey is something of a summer resort and even improbably boasts some Palm trees. We taxied to our hotel, Longueville Manor, an elegant pile of stone.

At check-in we encountered our first obstacle. It seems 30 years ago when Iva was last here, the ferries to Guernsey, our next stop, ran several times a day. Today, the concierge informed us that now that we’re off season the ferries barely run and are often cancelled. So when we’re done with Jersey, we’ll be taking a 20 minute flight to the next island. We had an excellent and quite formal dinner (great trolly of cheese) at the hotel and headed to bed pretty wiped out.

We woke up to a perfect weather day. Apparently this balmy, sunny weather is quite unusual for Jersey and great touring weather for us. After a bountiful breakfast, we took a cab into St. Helier, the main town on the island. The core of the town is all pedestrian only which is such a smart thing for a city to do. I wish more American cities woke up to how much more pleasant and business-friendly this is. Anyway, the town center is very charming with Victorian and English country architecture and flowers everywhere—on hanging baskets and at the statued squares.

We did some window shopping, bought the perfect birthday card for Norman, and strolled through a Victorian covered central market.

Lunch was at Colmar which was quite good, and then we walked down to the waterfront marina. In a museum there we viewed the Occupation Tapestry. It’s a series of embroidered panels depicting the invasion and occupation of the island by the Germans from 1940-45. It was done as a project by the island with scores of women and each parish taking responsibility for a panel.

We headed back to the hotel, and Betsey and I walked the grounds. The hotel and its grounds are quite exquisite. They have a big vegetable garden, formerly used stables, a tennis court, outdoor pool, and lush lawns. Very nice and peaceful. Dinner was at the Oyster Box. We took a taxi along the coast line to the affluent St Aubin village which was very scenic, and we came upon the restaurant which sits over the best beach in Jersey. It was low tide—-Jersey has one of the biggest tide changes in the world—so there was lots of beach. In fact, the island nearly doubles in size at low tide. Our seafood dinners were really fresh and delicious.

Next day was a Jersey history lesson. After breakfast we went to the Occupation Tunnels. They were built for the Germans after the occupation mostly by slave labor—Russian prisoners, Spaniards, French etc brought over to build fortifications against possible British Invasion. Although Churchill wanted to defend the islands, he was overruled by the Navy which felt they had no strategic value, and declared them undefended. The Germans obviously felt differently because they saw that the islands potentially could be a staging point for a sea invasion of Britain as well as a propaganda coup (the islands were the only British land to be occupied by Germany). The tunnels were later converted to a hospital when the Germans concluded the island wasn’t a British target. The tunnels (which are about 7’high and quite wide) are in marked contrast to the Cu Chi Tunnels, the Viet Cong built in South Vietnam which we visited and had to crouch through the entire time. But I digress. The tunnels in Jersey are now used to tell the story of the German occupation of the island from July, 1940 to May 9, 1945. Before the Germans came, the Brits offered to evacuate any Jerseyans who wanted to leave the island. 25,000 did so. Those who were left were overseen by as many as 11,000 German troops (one for every four Jerseyans). This must have been a pretty cushy assignment for the Nazis. Less so for the Jerseyans who faced increasing shortages of food, jail, and sometimes deportation to prison camps on the continent. And there were collaborators as well who ultimately faced the wrath of the islanders.

From the tunnels to the sea. We taxied out to the southwestern end of the island to the town of Gorey, a small hamlet with a big castle. Have I mentioned that the weather has been glorious? We enjoyed a good lunch outdoors at the Moorings overlooking the small harbor. You can’t get a good burger here if you want it rare. They insist on cooking it to death no matter how many times you insist on rare. Whatever. We parted with Iva and Danny after lunch as they went back to the hotel to rest, and we labored up a very steep hill to Mont Orgueil Castle.

Dating back to the 13th century, this many-times rebuilt and expanded castle sits high atop a plateau overlooking France which is only 14 miles to Brittany. And that’s why the castle is there—to provide a defensive position against the threat of French invasion. More than 800 years ago Jersey declared its loyalty to the English Crown (hence a Crown Dependency) despite wooing and warring by the French. Sir Walter Raleigh is its most famous Governor, and he saved this castle when Elizabeth I wanted to tear it down to build another one. She got the other one (Elizabeth Castle down the coast), but Raleigh got to keep Orgueil. We wound our way through numerous rooms and exhibits.

The most gruesome was at least a ten foot high metal statue of a naked man showing how every Medieval weapon of war could penetrate the body. Then it was back to the hotel for some R&R.

We headed back to Gorey for drinks with Ashley and Jonathan. Ashley is an American cousin of our friend, Noreen who married Jonathan, a Jerseyan. They lived in the US through Covid and then decided to come to live in Jersey with their two small children. They were delightful, and we enjoyed hearing what it was like to adjust from living in Brooklyn to Jersey. Dinner nearby at Sumas was our least enjoyable dinner.

The architecture on the island is a mix of Victorian and English country cottage with bland modern apartment houses and some stunning modern waterfront mansions. Many houses hug the roads separated by stone walls made of “Jersey Granite” which are of an orange/gray tone and handsome. Lots of impressive walls. We will see much more of the island tomorrow when our hired car takes us around.

Zak, our driver, met us in the morning. A combination Portuguese/Scotsman, Zak knew the island well, and we covered a lot of ground. Unfortunately, as a guide he was a bit lacking as he was terribly hard of hearing and was a little difficult to understand. Nevertheless, we got to see most of the island coast we hadn’t seen. This island is really a joy to visit. The coastline has wide beaches (people are still swimming here!) and jagged cliffs, many of them still dotted with German bunkers (very much like Normandy). We drove on narrow lanes lined with Jersey granite walls and hedges and some impressive houses. It’s a lush island with green fields and stately trees. It’s also an equestrian island, and we actually saw more horses than cows on this ride.

We came back to the hotel for lunch and enjoyed our meal on the terrace at the pool. We could not have asked for better weather so far.

GUERNSEY & SARK

The adventure continued as we went to the airport for the ten minute flight to Guernsey. It was an interesting flight since there were about 15 men in wide striped green and red blazers

making a ruckus. It seems they were the Over 35 field hockey team which every year plays against a Jersey team and always loses as it turns out. They were already well lubricated and many a drunken F word was flung around during the flight. Then the taxi we had ordered showed up very late and the woman taxi driver told us to blame the “office” then opened her trunk where there was a large plant she “didn’t even want” and no room for luggage. We skipped that cab and took another one that was proceeding up a one-way street that was less than a lane wide and came around a corner to confront another car coming head on. Our driver slammed on the brakes and yelled to the woman in the other car that it was a one way street. She insisted that it was two—way for the residents. Absurd. Then we finally pulled up to the hotel to learn we were at the wrong hotel. We were at Friquet and we needed Fregate. Obviously our American accents didn’t help. Finally arrived at the right hotel which is a bit homely but with a good view of the harbor, and our room is small, but we will cope. Dinner by “the best cook on the island” was very mediocre. What have we gotten into?

Sunday was another beautiful, warm day. Everyone is talking about how unusually nice the weather is. Last year in October it was cold and rainy. We are lucky. After breakfast we walked along the waterfront out to the major castle/fort which has sat on a precipice for more than 800 years and defended Guernsey from the French, then the English, then the French etc etc. Finally, the Germans occupied it until the armistice.

After a lunch at Crepes Maison, we took a city bus ride all around this island of 65,000 population. Guernsey is far less affluent than Jersey although the same 20% top income tax rate/no capital gains or inheritance tax applies here as well. The houses are smaller, stucco or stone, and the island is less built up than Jersey and more devoted to lush fields and lots of greenhouses. I later learned that tomatoes were once the big greenhouse crop which has now given way to Marijuana which is shipped to Germany for “medical” purposes. We saw horses but no Guernsey cows. The island is encircled by large beaches which today are filled with sunbathers and swimmers and at one beach, some surfers, although its generous to describe the little waves as surf-worthy. There are many old bunkers and turrets around the waterfronts which suggests the Germans really took the potential for a counter invasion seriously. After an hour and a half on the bus, we were ready for solid ground and naps.

Most of us napped away the late afternoon and then headed down to what turned out to be a very chic and tasty restaurant, Octopus, on the waterfront overlooking the castle. Interesting, in the two restaurants we’ve been here the wait staff all comes from a particular country. . At Crepes Maison they were Philippino and at Octopus Bangladeshi. It wasn’t quite so homogenous in Jersey and one wonders where the Guernseyans work.

The next morning it was excursion time. We took a 45 minute ferry to the island of Sark. I always thought that Cutty Sark Scotch had something to do with this island. Not. Never a mention

Regardless, Sark is interesting for several reasons. It has only 565 full time residents; only farm tractors, bikes and horses are allowed, no cars or trucks. It is quite scenic but essentially one shopping street with two little restaurants, a food market, flea market, silver jewelry shop, and, of course, a souvenir store. Also, we are told that the biggest event on the island is the annual sheep race, so you can guess how it is the other 364 days. We had arranged for a horse and carriage to take us around the island. Michelle, our driver showed up with a small carriage where we had to squeeze in facing each other. Very tight. But the horse, a Welsh Cob, was strong and handsome. Michelle less so since she told us she had consumed three bottles of wine the previous night.

Michelle took us to various key vistas along the coast and we tarried at La Seigneurie, the ancestral home of the Seigneur whom I gather is like the nobleman of the island. We toured the gardens and grounds which were handsome

Many of the houses are built with Guernsey granite and look quite sturdy. We had a surprisingly good lunch of fried shrimp and fries (so healthy!). Danny and I took a further walk while the women “shopped” before heading down to the ferry back to Guernsey for an Italian dinner at Gusto which turned out to be very good. We were all craving Italian after all the fish etc.

Our last morning in Guernsey was spent seeing a couple of the most notable sites. The first is one of the smallest chapels in the world. You can barely stand in it or fit more than a couple of people at a time. It and the approaching steps and walk up to it are covered in shards of ceramic plates, shells, and amulets. It’s really very striking and beautiful.

From there we went to a small museum of the occupation which was jam packed with stories and stuff. All manner of Nazi uniforms, weapons, and artifacts including condoms in their original German packaging. Lots of stories of the occupation including about the Jews being hidden and being caught and deported to the camps. The place was musty and cramped but pretty interesting. It’s clear that despite the fact that the occupation was relatively benign compared to the mainland, it had a seminal impact on the people of these islands.

If I were to sum up Guernsey and Sark I would say that that Guernsey is a somewhat poor relation to Jersey—much less affluent, not as charming or interesting. I was glad we saw the island but I would say, after Jersey, the primary reason to go to Guernsey is to get to Sark although I think there’s a ferry you can get from Jersey too. As for Sark, it’s an experience, but as our Guernsey taxi driver described the island, it’s “600 alcoholics clinging to a rock.”

We flew back to Jersey and Longueville Manor for one last night and dinner where we did our usual “Bests & Worsts” routine.

Chipping Sudbury, England

Next morning we hit the road for the 35 minute flight to London which was delayed an hour by mechanical issues. Our driver met us at Heathrow for the two-hour drive to Dodington at Chipping Sudbury. Honest. We were in the South Gloustershire part of London. Very English. We are visiting Isobel and Nigel whom we first met in Copenhagen and are friends of Iva and Danny. Lovely, authentic people who welcomed us into their 1760’s farmhouse which was exquisite.

This is horse country with large swaths of lush open land. Their property adjoins the vast acreage of John Dyson, the vacuum cleaner etc king, who allegedly owns more land today than the King. His holdings in this area are vast. It’s also hunt country. Very English. We had dinner at a hotel in the Royal Crescent in Bath which Betsey and I last visited probably 30+ years ago. Hasn’t changed. Good dinner and lots of laughs.

Next day after an excellent home-made breakfast we headed out for some sightseeing. Nearby is the residence of the Dukes of Beaufort in Bedminton, where the game of Badminton was created.We drove onto the grounds to see the estate where Bridgerton was filmed. The Duke still lives there but needed the money, hence the filming. He also owns the surrounding village and most of the houses in it. A herd of Red deer were grazing on the property and it was all quite out of the TV series. But the best was last—we went a short distance to Castle Combe, said to be the most authentic and beautiful village in England. Indeed, it did seem so. It’s also where Spielberg filmed War Horse. We walked the town (one street) past stone buildings and an old Church with the history described. The town’s origins go back to the 1400’s. The day was grey and overcast and felt very English. We had a last lunch, bid everyone, including Iva and Danny, goodbye, and were dropped at the train station for the one-hour ride into London.

LONDON

The train ride was comfortable, and we took a cab from Paddington station to our hotel. We haven’t been here in 9 years and were surprised to ride along a long stretch of Edgeware Road and see every storefront have their name in Arabic as well as English. Our hotel, The Conrad, is near St James Park, a side of London where we hadn’t previously stayed. Our room is our smallest yet despite it’s more than $500/night charge. We wanted to get a light bite for dinner after all the big meals we’ve been having, but finding a spot nearby was daunting. We passed three pubs that were so mobbed with drinkers, they poured all over the sidewalk. When I asked the hotel doorman if this day, Thursday, was a special holiday or occasion he said, “well, it’s nearly Friday.” So much for the empire. We did find a little French bistro and had soup and small plates.

Next morning was damp as we headed to breakfast with an old colleague of mine at DMB&B. Scott was my CFO when I was CEO. We hadn’t seen each other since 2017 since he lives in Australia and has been ill until recently with a rare type of blood cancer. He finally got into remission and was headed to London to see his lady friend. Unbeknownst to him we were going to be in London at the same time. So here we are both in London for a reunion breakfast with the ladies. It was great to see him, particularly being well. We had a great catch-up breakfast and then Betsey and I strolled through Covent Garden to the recently renovated National Portrait Gallery where we caught up on British history through their marvelous and extensive portraiture collection. After a light lunch on Leicester Square we walked back to the hotel, a bit tired to be sure. So far we’ve walked 3 miles today.

We had dinner at Wolseley, an ornate art deco brasserie that once was a car dealership on Piccadilly. We were dining with DMB&B colleagues, Claude and Mo whom we last saw in 2017. Thinking about what we might do over the weekend, Claude suggested Battersea Power Station.

And that was our first stop on a now chilly but sunny Saturday morning. The Power station opened in 1929 and ultimately supplied 20% of London’s power. During WWII the Germans didn’t bomb it because they used the smoke plume as a guide point to cross the Thames River as they bombed the rest of London. Since it was coal fueled it was eventually closed and deteriorated, but because it was much loved as a landmark and had a wonderful art deco design, it was preserved. Eventually a Malaysian investment company bought it, and in 2013 it was opened as a spectacular multi-use complex. It is now the most beautiful shopping mall we’ve ever seen with just about every brand you’ve ever dreamed of in residence. Every brand, except a big deficit in children’s stuff which was disappointing for grandparent shopping. The building also houses apartments, and all around it a whole new modern neighborhood has emerged. They have preserved some of the original turbine parts which serve as sculpture throughout the building. There are four large smokestacks and one of them has been hollowed out with a circular glass elevator that rises to the stop and offers a 360 degree view of the city. It’s striking how this side of the Thames, across from the main city has become a modern city of its own.

We had a light lunch and Ubered to Tate Modern, another discontinued power plant now repurposed as a modern art museum. This is a “free” museum but they charge a hefty entrance (about $25) for each major exhibit. We went through the “free” exhibits and headed out. It was enough for us. This is a Saturday when you expect a lot of people to be out, but it was pretty amazing the mobs of people on this side of the river. There is a wonderful pedestrian path all along the river and we took it for about a mile to our next destination—the Ivy London Bridge restaurant for dinner. When we left, the bridge was lit beautifully for us to enjoy.

Our last destination for the day was to see a new staging of the Broadway hit, Guys & Dolls. It was really spectacular. It was staged in the round with a large segment of the audience standing on the stage floor and interacting to some extent with the cast. Of course the score is great, and the cast did it justice. We thoroughly enjoyed it.

We grabbed an Uber and headed back to our hotel. We had been out for a dozen hours and had walked more than 4 miles. Not bad for two octogenarians. Sunday was our last full day in London, and the temperature got into the frosty low 50’s but with bright sunshine. We headed to the Frieze art show in Regent’s Park. Our Uber driver dropped us at the end of the Park, but the wrong end, so we had to walk through to get to the right entrance. I’m glad we did because we hadn’t previously been in this park and it’s very beautiful. The Brits know how to do parks, that’s for sure.

We spent several hours in the art show until we were wiped out. Frieze is very much the cutting edge of the art scene, and we generally were unimpressed. Perhaps it’s the age we’re in, but a lot of the art was dark, dour, and almost malevolent feeling. A lot of strange sculptures using all manner of materials. One surprising exhibit was Damien Hurst’s new work. He, of the dead shark fame, had large canvases of bright sunny flowers speckled with bright paint drips.

We had an important assignment to fulfill so we headed across town to look for presents for Lucy and Parker, Marlow having already been well taken care of. Very challenging to find English kids clothes for California kids. After a couple of fruitless tries, we walked about a mile to Harrod’s figuring there would be an ample selection. It was a mind blowing experience—all the designer’s have children’s clothes and Harrods features them in mini boutiques at outrageous prices (who buys these??). In desperation we over paid for the least flashy shirts we could find and collapsed into a taxi. It was a 3 1/2 mile day so far.

For our last dinner in London we met Joyce and Lee, friends from Los Angeles who are spending a month here, at Hide, a Michelin starred restaurant on Piccadilly which was excellent. A nice way to end our stay here. We’ve had a very enjoyable trip and head out first thing in the morning for home.