Jersey 2026

This is my second time of writing this. I am sitting on a veranda, in the sunshine, and I merrily typed on my keyboard while not being able to see my screen. When I checked what I had written, it was all in Hebrew script! It made no sense, because I had used English spellings, so it was a complete waste of time. I shall start again—in English…

It’s the end of July, and we have joined the family in Jersey. We rented a large Airbnb in St Martins, and as I write I can see the sea over the tree tops, and hear birds singing, a dog barking, and not much else. It’s very peaceful. We’ve never visited Jersey before. It’s part of England, so wonderfully familiar, yet not attached, so it feels slightly different. Driving, language, currency is all like home—but the island is quite small and very well-kept, so very pretty. The sunshine helps of course.

We haven’t done much, and various family members have worked (online) on different days, which has worked well in the house which is big, with rooms people can escape to or meet for (loud) chats depending on their mood. The days have passed much too quickly—walking next to the coast, visiting castles, eating lots of cake. One day we rode on an amphibious vehicle to a nearby island. Husband and I sat in a secluded garden and drank coffee while the others watched canons being fired.

Today we went to the tunnels—built during the German occupation by their war prisoners. There were shocking signs announcing that the the government had decided to not, ‘repeat not’ defend the island when the Germans attacked.  Can you imagine how it would feel when the islanders read that for the first time? The tunnel displays showed what life was like under German occupation, much was sad (they killed all the cats and dogs because there was no food for them) and some things were practical, just getting on with life during difficult circumstances. It makes you question your own core beliefs—how would you behave when compliance with the enemy would enable food for your children? I had previously thought I would definitely be part of the resistance movement—no one forces a Thompson to do things. But some of the soldiers were 14. Big children. I don’t think I could have been involved in killing kids, even if they were the enemy.

Today we plan to visit the zoo. This deserves it’s own post (it’s an excellent zoo) so I will write some separate blogs when I am home. Thanks for reading.

Take care.

Love, Anne x

Things I Heard in Jersey/Only in a Family:

Is someone watching a video in the bathroom?

Don’t throw rocks at your brother.

I’ll give £5 to anyone who can hit him with a pebble.

Let’s get the curry, the linguine and the roast dinner, and then share them.

Stop trying to open the car door—that’s not our car!

Don’t open the flip-top bin with your foot, you’ll break it.

Please can we have a designated quiet area in the house?

(When playing Code Names): Oh great, that’s just what you want your vocal and dominant teammates to say…

Your washing is all over the lawn; let me introduce you to the peg basket.:

*****