Jersey: Sticky locks and cheeseburgers

25 August 2010

Lauren and Dave had walked miles across the island and we all had a rest and replenished our sugar levels while we decided where to go for dinner. As our respective energy levels returned we decided to walk across the beach to The Beach House restaurant.

It was about 3/4 of a mile across St. Auben’s Bay and Ouaisne Bay and we took it at a leisurely pace, walking through the surf and enjoying the sunshine. I took some photos as we went and Suzy did her best to help me get the horizons straight.

I also saw my first sun dog in the sky and funnily enough Dad and Mum saw one the same day on their holiday in La Rochelle. I wasn’t even 100% sure at the time that it was a sun dog. I’d read the term somewhere, but hadn’t been sure to what phenomenon it had been attached.

Just before we reached the far side of the bay I found a sweet little footprint in the sand. I put my own print next to it and Suzy put hers next to mine.

We washed the sand off our feet and headed into The Beach House restaurant and took a nice table by the window, overlooking the bay we’d just crossed.

Before we ordered I headed to the loo. The lock was very stiff when I locked it and I wondered whether it had been a good idea to shut the door. When I came to leave the bathroom I learned that, no, it had not been a good idea. The little silver knob would not turn. I grabbed some toilet paper to see if I could get a better grip. Nope. I thumped on the door. Nothing. So as I was in a disabled loo, I pulled on the emergency cord. Nothing. The pull cord didn’t work and the alarm light didn’t come on. So I went back to thumping on the door. Unfortunately the loos were down a corridor away from the main restaurant, but soon I heard a little kid’s voice and thumped on the door again. His mother called, “Are you locked in?” and when I confirmed I was she grabbed a knife and opened the door from the outside. I returned to my table and told of my adventure. Lauren said that she’d noticed I had been gone too long, but her delightful husband had warned against knocking on the door in case I was just doing a number two. He’s a doll.

When the waiter came along I told him that I’d been locked in the loo and another patron had had to rescue me. He agreed that “yeah, that lock’s really stiff, isn’t it?” I’ve since emailed the restaurant about the lock and received a very speedy response from the manager to say that he had checked the alarm himself and had asked maintenance to change the lock. I’m quite judgmental of accessible toilets. There seems to be no standardisation as far as their construction is concerned. Some have alarm cords and alarm strips that run all the way around the bottom of the wall. Others have tied the alarm cord up, I imagine because it got in someone’s way. Standing I’m about the same height as someone in a wheelchair, but I can’t ever be sure I’m going to be able to see into the mirror. I’ve been in many loos where the mirror is way up high on the wall. But then there was the loo I used at the airport when we returned from Jersey, where the mirror was fine and then I had to bend down to use the hand dryer!

But enough about toilets. The food at The Beach House was great and I had a delicious cheeseburger and chips. We watched the tide come creeping up the beach and the sun set in a blaze of orange over the horizon. When we’d eaten our fill we had a taxi called for us to take us back to the hotel. A chatty blonde lady picked us up and it turned out that she’d driven Helen and Steve to their posh hotel the evening before. We were coming to the conclusion that there were only about 3 taxi drivers on the whole island. We got home safely – though there was one point where we were nearly driven into a wall as our driver was concentrated on fishing about in her top for the back of her earring that had fallen off – and collapsed in our respective beds. It’s all that sea air that tires you out. That and kilometre of war tunnels, the million steps down to the beach and the three quarters of a mile across two sandy bays.

Posted in: encounters, friends, jersey, photos, travels

Comments

2 Responses to “Jersey: Sticky locks and cheeseburgers”

Ricki
25th August 2010 @ 2:00 am

Sun dog, eh? For many years we’ve had a restaurant at Jacksonville Beach called “The Sun Dog Diner” and I just thought they’d made up the name. Who knew it was a real phenomenon? Thanks for that, Sarah. Oh, and glad you made it out of the loo before everyone went back to the hotel!

[Reply]
bethany actually
25th August 2010 @ 8:47 am

Wow, you’d never seen a sun dog before? I wonder if they’re more common in the Midwestern US than where you and Ricki are, because I’ve seen quite a few of them in my life! They still give me a little thrill every time, though. :-)

I’m glad you were rescued from the loo by a friendly stranger!

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