June 24, 2013: Corbière to Plémont
Corbière Lighthouse
Having changed our pickup time from 9:30 to 9:00 our walking party was standing at the ready on the steps of the Savoy Jersey when our Citicabs vehicle pulled up at the start of our second day. Well-remembered sights were soon flashing by as we sped to the west and at 9:20 we were ready to start out from the Highlands Hotel. A simple walk down the roadway would have placed us above the submerged causeway leading out to the Corbière lighthouse but Adrian wanted to begin the walk behind the hotel and so we descended through the blossoming ice plant and continued with the rise and fall of our footpath. As we neared the German observation tower (now used for accommodation) we observed a large tour party of French students chattering away at cliffside.
We had reached the westernmost point on the south coast of Jersey and we were ready for a shift in direction as we now followed the west coast in a northerly direction. As we headed down the hill on the main road there were a number of moments when the rule about facing oncoming traffic made us very uneasy – for there were a number of blind corners. It was a lovely morning with lots of sunshine and a cooling breeze as well.
After dropping down to a sea wall we approached the village of La Pulente. Here, as we contemplated the wide reach of St. Ouen’s Bay, there was some ambiguity about the best way forward. The easiest path seemed to be adjacent to the highway but after a while Adrian moved over to walk atop the seawall itself. Naomi is made uncomfortable by such exposed spaces so I kept on behind her on the walkway in the verge. Adrian had plenty of opportunities to observe the odd bunker or two but the state of the tide forestalled any visit to La Rocco Tower, now an island in the sea. Every now and then there would be a slipway or some other point of access for the surfing fraternity.
Kempt Tower
Our next objective was the seaside Kempt Tower, a Martello Tower dated 1844, and here we had a reunion with Adrian before parting ways again before another briefer stretch to the Lewis Tower. I had been encouraged by the PH symbol on the OS map at this spot but as we approached the site of the Channel Islands Military Museum we could see that the buildings in front of this place had fallen into decay (“Chateau Shopping” had become “Hateau Shopping”) and the old pub was padlocked. Adrian, though offered the opportunity, declined to spend any time in the museum and we turned our attentions to finding a lunchtime substitute.
I was not worried for I knew that at the next corner, as the highway moved away from the beach, we would find the Jersey Pearl, a jewelry showroom much favored by tourists – indeed stickers from this place appeared on many a hire car. Sure enough the place had a cafeteria and we had soon made our orders and taken a table to wait for our food. This was not long in coming – I had the small fish and chips and a peach iced tea. Then everyone used the loos and we were ready to return to the coast.
We had a close look at the state of the beach and decided that we could now use the hardened shoulder to make our way up to the top end of the bay. This proved to be very pleasant walking, with lots of interesting rocks and shells at our feet and only the occasional wet spot, kelp pile or stream to dodge. Several slipways offered an escape but we persevered until the very end, climbing up to the roadway at L’Étacquerel. All of this time we had been staring at a great headland rising above us and the time had now come to see how we were meant to surmount this impediment.
A surviving arch at Grosnez Castle.
Road walking again presented its hazards and we were a bit puzzled about the way forward – but a chap with a dog told us that we had to continue to rise inland with the road and that we would soon encounter a “Cliffpath to Grosnez” sign. A zigzagging bit of steep uphill then brought us up to the top – where once again we had a number of gun emplacements in the gorse. On our left a huge rock finger, Le Pinacle, preceded views of a major ruin, the dramatically sited Grosnez Castle. Here we had a nice rest (well, I did – Adrian was avid in his investigations). There were lots of people passing through the surviving arch of this site.
Having exhausted the west coast we were now able to head in an easterly direction as we began our first adventures with the deeply indented and challenging north coast. Gradually we made our way down to a valley, where the Plémont beach café was meant to serve as the spot from which we would summon our taxicab. Remembering how we had often changed such rendezvous points during our walk on Guernsey, Adrian now proposed instead, as it was not quite 4:00 yet, that we complete some of tomorrow’s route by continuing on to the “village” of Plémont itself. So we climbed up some very steep steps and continued up a track in search of this place – finding only derelict buildings and rushing rabbits on our right.
This did not seem at all like a promising spot for a pickup and so we reversed directions, climbed back down the steps and entered the precincts of the café. (Yesterday I lost my baseball cap to the wind three times; climbing down to the café produced today’s only instance.) While I used the loos Adrian utilized my old phone (really, Dorothy’s Nokia) to call Citicabs. While we waited we enjoyed some refreshment – I had a bottle of Copella cloudy apple and a piece of carrot cake. Then we waited in the parking lot – with my companions convincing themselves that they had best climb the road and meet the cab at the bus stop. I held my ground and the cab soon arrived and came down to fetch us.
From every terminus on this trip we would begin a return journey through a new part of Jersey’s interior and this was always a pleasure. Our ten-mile, fairly easy day meant that there was time for a brief nap as well as a shower before dinnertime rolled around. On this occasion we retuned to the Ad Lib restaurant, where we had tried and failed to secure seating on Saturday night. We had a very nice meal and then visited Alfonso’s Portuguese market on the corner – I was always stocking up on Diet Cokes so I could take my pills and have extra liquid on the trail. Tonight I drifted toward drowsiness after enjoying Faure’s Requiem on my iPod.
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