Outing to La Corbière, 1963

A small slice of history from 1963. I never knew of the aviary at the Corbiere Hotel!

Outing to La Corbière
By Catherine Giles
The Pilot, July 1963

ONE sunny afternoon in July the St. Helier’s branch of the Mothers’ Union set out, some fifty strong for a coach tour of the Island. As we chugged along the coast road, up hill and down dale, the happy buzz coming from inside the coaches almost drowned the roar of the labouring engines. Indeed so joyous was the Babel of sound that I am sure half of the passengers scarcely noticed the scenery through which they were passing!

At Gorey we paused to squander sixpence or so on an ice cream or a cup of tea. Thus refreshed, we then resumed our journey to the North coast. Our drivers steered us through the narrow lanes with impeccable skill, and if the coaches did not greatly resemble the proverbial camel, at least the openings through which they had to be eased or squeezed seemed, often, not much larger than the eye of a needle.

At about four o’clock, we disembarked for more ice cream, this time at Gréve de Lecq, where the shore was rain-washed and sparkling after a recent shower. Shortly afterwards we visited the workshop where the Bailiff’s chair was recently carved. This chair was given in memory of the late Bailiff. Mr. C. S. Harrison. It now stands in the Town Church, and it was used by Her Majesty the Queen Mother when she visited the Island in May. In the workshop we saw many fascinating objects in the making, and a number of the finished articles were on display in the little shop nearby.

The La Corbière Hotel, where we were to have tea, is quite unique in one respect. The ground floor is one vast aviary. The restaurant is dotted with tables and chairs, as is usual, but round the walls at pictures rail height are deep ledges, and these are equipped with perches and brightly-painted bird-houses. Darting about from ledge to ledge with a flash of many-coloured wings, are minute tropical birds - black and yellow, purple and green, orange and turquoise. In sharp contrast to their tiny twittering voices, every now and then a handsome crimson and green macaw, sitting on a perch in one corner, states his opinion of the world in loud, harsh monosyllables.

Half regretfully, we turned our backs on this tropical scene and went upstairs to the room where we were to have tea. But this place was no less pleasing, for the huge plate-glass windows, edged with boxes of fuchsias in a variety of colours, commanded a perfect view of the lighthouse, silhouetted against the grandeur of sea and sky.

After a very tasty meal, well served, we repaired to the tarmac outside. Here some light hearted athletics took place. The first event was the egg and-spoon race. Nearly everyone took part in this, and those who did not gave the competitors plenty of encouragement and advice from the side-lines. This kind of event is not always to the swift, as anyone will be ready to admit, if they have tried chasing an egg about the tarmac with a kitchen spoon.

The next event was a competition which involved throwing bean-bags into a series of holes. Mrs. Mundy and Mrs. Baudains tied with a top score of 39: but the highlight of the afternoon’s entertainment was provided by one competitor who, hurling her bean-bag with more strength than accuracy, managed to hit the Enrolling Member squarely on the head! (This article is sure proof that the victim survived.)

Our last port of call was St. Ouen’s Church, where the Rector kindly made us welcome, and we all took part in a short service of thanksgiving and re-dedication.

And so home to St. Helier, the busy tongues stilled at last.

Altogether, it was a day of very happy memories.

Catherine Giles.