The offical online newsletter of the Parish of St. Brelade, Jersey
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News Stories
Christmas Fun
Bloom of Awards
Lighting Up
Chistmas Message
Resident vote for land
First class idea
Now, not a lot ...1
Hamper Appeal
Battling a leak!
Stamp of approval
Exchange of ideas
Evacuee contact
Parishioners Remember
Yoscars Top Ten
Projects' on the up!
Three of the best
Steps clean forgot
Bats have a ball
Pedalling wares
Male Drop
Smart move
Weed love to help
Night sky messier
Garden Grotto
No isolated event
In time for Xmas
Review of the Year
Spicing up St. Brelade
Recipe Corner
Christmas Crackers
Shelter from Storm
Christmas Wprship
Now, not a lot ..2
Christmas Fun
St. Brelade can be perplexing for Santa
by Tony Bellows

Father Christmas sat down with a sigh. It was time to get out the maps, and refresh his memory of all the quirky little places that were difficult to find. And nowhere was more difficult that finding his way around the Island of Jersey - and particulary St. Brelade. There were little narrow lanes which you could, if feeling adventurous, head up around 30 mph. There were one way streets which sent his poor head into a spin, and seemingly endless road works and diversions. And there were place names that had little to do with the places. After all, he thought, shouldn't Beauport Estate at least be within sight of Beauport and not halfway across the Parish?

And there were so many new buildings going up all over the place, and in recent years, Dasher was nearly dashed on that very tall Air Traffic Control Tower, as the sleigh came in to land on the La Quennevais Playing Fields - but at least the lighthouse was still standing in the right place and St Aubin should once again be ablaze with Christmas lights - a useful landmark.

Sometimes the labels on the presents had not been well written. Were they people or places? Who was Monty Le Brun? Or Clodah Roncier? Or Don Farm? And where did Rudy Genets live? And where were the Red Houses? There were plenty of houses, but none of them red. And how exactly how to pronounce Ouaisne should he need directions? And as for Ruelle a Rouaux ...eek! He scratched his head once more.

Fortunately, one of the elves was a former Roads Inspector and could guide him through the narrow lanes, the sudden changes in speed limits, the diversion sides, so that he could deliver all the presents just in time. And he could nibble at the strange foods that people put out for him to eat on his festive journey. Black Butter, which wasn't butter at all. Jersey Wonders, which seemed rather like a deep fried scone and 'bean-crock' which at least would assist in a swift return to Lapland. Would there be beer at Corbiere, he mused, as he buttoned up his red coat, and set off.

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