Gorey Castle and Beyond

St Brelade's Bay

St Brelade's Church, a medieval masterpiece, nestles within the gentle curve of the bay that bears its name. This is a place of sanctuary, of refuge against the cold, merciless seas. In the twelfth century, the pious men of Jersey built the simple and holy Fisherman's Chapel to shine as a light in the darkness, to guide the seafarers home. Centuries later, it still boasts the finest medieval frescoes in the Channel Islands. And at night the comforting light from the ancient church continues to spill over onto the dark, heaving waters beyond. 

St Brelade's offers Jersey at its most alluring - rich sandy vistas, refreshing summertime paddling and voluptuous helpings of ice cream. Imagine a traditional British seaside resort without the decay, dross and drizzle - and you have St. Brelade's. Palm trees and flamboyant gardens welcome the visitor. At low tide, the vast sands merge with neighbouring Ouaisné Bay, where a red and white Martello Tower marks the eastern bay. At high tide, the bright blue waters of the Gulf of St Malo lap up against the grand hotels and restaurants that pepper the shoreline.

There are countless Pizza Express restaurants in the British Isles, but this one boasts the most idyllic location of the lot. After all, what good is paradise if you can't order a decent Quattro Formaggi?

(c) 2012 James Rozel

 

 

The Lost Manor of La Brécquette

L'Etacq lies at the stunning north west edge of Jersey, near the muzzle of the cow, where ocean and cliff meet. The views from this hamlet are sublime, swooping high over the shores of St Ouen and down to Corbière on the far horizon.

These windswept berms of sand, where Jersey pink granite cottages cling to the edge of the rock, yield a dark and mysterious secret. Legend has it that long ago a grand manor house stood here, surrounded on two sides by a deep oak forest. The Manor of La Brécquette was one of the proudest and lordliest seigneuries on the Island. 

But one black night the waters rose too high - a vicious storm surge, a tsunami that swept over the forest and poured over the stone battlements and gothic towers. The waves had come to claim their domain.

The castle was drowned for ever. In the strange hinterland between myth and history, locals told of ruins in the sand, of the black stumps of an ancient forest that could just be glimpsed at low tide off the shores of l'Etacq. Balleine's magisterial History of Jersey weighs in with the tantalising fact that "In 1669, Philippe Mahaut, then aged 80, declared that in his youth some old people had shown him the ruins of the castle of La Brécquette and trees marking the separation of the fiefs". (Balleine, p.91).

An ancient forest does cling to the seabed of St Ouen, perhaps a remnant of the Ice Age era when the Channel was a dry, grassy plain. As for the manor, the relentless waves must have ground stone into silt and fish swim today above ancient halls.

We can only speculate, for the sea is not giving up its secrets. 

(c) J Rozel 2011