I have had a week where I’ve been more sentimental than usual. This is all to do with me deciding to visit Jersey in May. It gets me sooo excited. I can’t wait to get there.
That feeling of getting off the airplane and smelling the smell of Jersey is indescribable.
Some people say tattoos are addictive. Like nicotine and drugs. But Jersey is my drug for sure. My high. This time I might get a hire car so that I can get around the place as much as I want to, drive around like I used to.
I went through a phase of not sleeping very well. I had gotten my driver’s license a year earlier, and was a proud owner of a little Mini Mayfair. I covered the car in colourful flowers to hide the rust, and inside the car I had my wetsuit, a towel, my boogie board and a battery driven tape recorder as the car had no stereo.
The ashtray in the car was always over full, and the passenger seat full of empty cigarette packets, mixed tapes and empty diet coke cans. I always carried a bag of gym stuff in the back, as well as a change of clothes. I also kept a little bag with pens, colours and paper which I used for writing and drawing whenever I got the urge to do so. Which was very often.
The car was all I needed, and during those nights I couldn’t sleep I jumped in my little Mini (wearing nothing but my pyjamas, my slippers and a woolly jumper if it was chilly) and drove around the island. I used to drive around for a while, and stop off at Les Land where I’d sit on my favourite cliff half way down the steep rocks. There I’d have a fag and write a poem or draw some arty farty painting which were to symbolize my tortured teenage soul. Then I’d drive home again and fall asleep for a couple of hours before it was time to get up again.It isn’t any wonder that Jersey has made such an impact on me. It’s were I grew up. It’s were I found out the meaning of freedom.
And I’m soon heading over to visit again. Ooohh, my heart flutters with excitement!
