…my BAC1-11 touched down at Jersey Airport. I found my guest house and watched Borg beat Connors in the Wimbledon singles final. Two days later I rocked up for my first day in the offices of Turquands Barton Mayhew & Co.

As a recently-qualified accountant in 1977 I had many options. Employers were fighting each other for young and reasonably cheap professionals. The Channel Islands finance industry was expanding rapidly and I was one of a number recruited from the UK mainland around about that time. We’d stay for a couple of years, gain experience, have a good time and go home.

Only thing is, few of us ever went home. We’re either still here or dead. In my case I met a local girl, got married, had two lovely children (Eoin 29, Emma 27), got divorced. I broke for the border a second time in 2007 but, after an ill-starred couple of years in Ireland, found myself Back on the Rock.

A lot has changed over those 40 years. Maybe I’ll reflect on some of those changes over the next few posts.

Many places have their mysterious and mostly unseen supernatural beings, but the British Isles and Northern Europe are particularly rich in such folklore. In Ireland for example, the ancient race of the Tuatha De Danann were defeated in battle and retreated to dwell underground in the Otherworld. They manifest in folklore as leprechauns and fairies. Scotland’s equivalent are divided into the Seelie Court (benevolent) and Unseelie Court (mischievous).  Norse mythology has its elves, both dark and light.

Les P’tits Faîtieaux (The Little People) – Kerry-Jane Warner

But it’s not so well known that Jersey has it’s own ‘little people’ who dwell in our ancient dolmens. Like their cousins elsewhere they are capricious. They can cause harm when annoyed but are capable of good deeds when placated.

Here, local artist Kerry-Jane Warner has portrayed a few of these folk caught unawares outside the entrance to the Neolithic passage grave of La Hougue Bie in the Jersey parish of Grouville.

I was walking down the street
When I thought I heard this voice say
“Say, ain’t we walking down the same street together
On the very same day?” Paul Simon

A year or so ago I had some interesting correspondence with a New Zealand resident, Sue. She had read my Jersey novels and they took her back to her younger days when she worked for the Seymour family. The Seymours own the now-derelict Portelet Hotel and other land nearby.

I thought little more of it – until two days ago. I was happily mooching down the German-built road that leads down to Noirmont Point, the sun shining, the wild flowers of the common beginning to appear. A car came down the road from behind me then suddenly pulled over. As it did so the occupant of the back seat nearly fell out as she tried to get out before the car had come to a halt. She crossed over and said

Noirmont Point (jersey.com)

‘Roy?’

‘Yes?’

‘Hi, I’m Sue from New Zealand. Do you remember I emailed you? Well, after that I just had to come back to Jersey to see the place for myself again.’

‘But…how did you know it was me?’

‘I just thought it was you!’

I didn’t press the matter and the lovely Sue, after introducing me to her husband, drove off. Now, we never exchanged photos or anything like that. My photo isn’t exactly splashed all over the Net nor is it within my book covers. And remember Sue would have had a rear view when approaching me shambling along towards the Point.

So I hope Sue enjoys her break in Jersey and gets in touch again in due course. And maybe I’ll ask her the same question – how did you know who I was?

But there again, maybe some little mysteries in life are best left as mysteries. What do you think? Any other odd or coincidental encounters out there in bloggerland?