Minty Clinch visits a haven for tax exiles and a stomping ground for Jim Bergerac and discovers excellent golf with a rich heritage

The two best clubs, Royal Jersey and La Moye, have been in business for more than a century and the sense of history is palpable. Royal Jersey was home to the six times Open champion, Harry Vardon, commemorated by a larger than life bronze at the gate, while La Moye was designed by James Braid. Credentials don’t come more gilt edged than that.

Gilt edged is a bit of a creed in Jersey. Many of the 90,000 residents are on it for the money: 20 per cent income tax across the board, no inheritance tax, no capital gains. Finance generates 80 per cent of the GNP, with tourism providing most of the rest. St Helier is awesomely quiet for a capital city, however small. Its streets are dominated by handsome banks and paced by orderly pedestrians going about their business.

It may not be legitimate business - pots of money rarely breed legitimacy - but fraud seems a lot more likely than murder or even mugging. In real life, that is. In fictional terms, Jim Bergerac, initially a policeman, later a private eye, always an alcoholic, sometimes recovering, sometimes not, always found plenty of rough stuff to deal with during his ten-year stint for the BBC. Vardon apart, he is still Jersey’s most famous resident, the acclaimed provider of the high profile a tiny island needs to bring in the tourists.

As he drove round it in pursuit of villains, Jim turned the spotlight on handsome red granite farmhouses with steep grey roofs, contented Jersey cows munching grass in immaculately fenced pastures and sleek yachts moored in rocky coves. At night, he visited places where well-dressed people descended from posh cars to drink champagne around swimming pools owned by their peers. Did he eat Jersey Royal potatoes on screen? Possibly not, but they’re there too, filling large fields and tiny sunny hill plots, ready to mature in April to meet the spring demand in Britain.

Finding an alternative to Jim’s genius for product placement since he shut up shop in 1991 has been a bit of a poser, but Jersey is relying on its new emblem to do the trick. Appropriately it is a golden bird, supposedly a symbol of freedom. Its backers hope it will lay golden eggs, though they are over optimistic if they think its magic will out-produce 50 minutes of prime time a week.

In the United Kingdom, we think of the Channel Islands as a single entity. Wrong. Jersey and Guernsey share an enmity at least as knife edged as that between England and Scotland. Each has its own government, with Guernsey in charge of minor islands that include Alderney and Sark.

In the interests of high finance and immigration control, Jersey is not in the European Union, a plus for many of its citizens, even though it depends on foreigners to staff its hotels and restaurants. For example, the work force at the excellent Hotel Atlantic, a white Art Deco building overlooking the awesome sands of St. Ouen’s Bay, are predominantly Slovakians and Latvians.

You may well ask who St Ouen was, along with St Brelade, St Aubin and indeed St Helier. The answers date back to Norman times: in the 11th century, the Channel Islands were part of William the Conqueror’s power base, becoming an outpost of the British Isles in 1204. That’s a helluva a long time to stick with Gallic names, yet towns, villages and streets still favour French identities, even though most of them must post date the coming of British culture by several centuries.

Royal Jersey and La Moye are at opposite ends of the island. If you are a purist with the time to play only one of them, it would have to be Royal Jersey, home to Ted Ray, the first Ryder Cup captain in 1927, and Tommy Horton, a later Ryder Cup player, as well as Vardon. Opened in 1878, it is a thoroughbred links laid out on common land in the centre of Grouville Bay, admired so much by Queen Victoria that she gave it Royal status. Mont Orgueil castle, established on a defensible crag in the 11th century, dominates the layout, a brooding presence even when it’s misty. France is visible from some of the holes, but only when the sun shines.

The course starts out along the coast, with the sea a cleanly hit wedge to the right on holes one to four. Today they are well protected by a sturdy concrete wall, courtesy of the Germans who built it when they used the links as a minefield in World War II. Fort Henry, formerly a billet for the militia, asks the question on the par-5 opener, with long hitters forced to work out a route around it before they tee off.

The course turns inland at the fifth, incorporating natural undulations into attractive raised tees and tricky elevated greens on many of the following holes. Whether you land in patches of impenetrable rough or readily negotiable long grass is largely a matter of luck. If you hit straight, you’ll be fine as the fairways and greens hold the ball well. Hit straight? If only…..here and everywhere else.

Jersey’s other trio of courses are clustered around St Brelade on Jersey’s south-western tip. La Moye, home to the Seniors Classic in early June, is the main championship course in the Channel Islands, lengthened significantly since James Braid worked his magic on a dramatic promontory back in 1902. Such links factors as dunes, sands and gorse are much in evidence, but the headland is also rich in trees that create a parkland feel at times. Less kindly, many of the fairways are heavily cambered, tending to chuck the ball into the rough rather than hold it in play.

Players of all standards can get off to an encouraging start at the benign par-3 opener, but the second hole produces a full quiver of challenges, notably a tee shot involving the large tree that bars the route to the dogleg that opens up the green. If you’re expecting an early card wrecker, this could be it. If not, disaster may be lurking among the nesting pheasants down the line. However the first sighting of St Ouen’s Bay, three miles of perfect pristine sand, and the dunes that border it, at the fifth hole should put mere golf into perspective.

Even when Atlantic westerlies do their worst, as they often do on such an exposed aspect, it’s impossible not to wallow in the majesty of it all.

When you’re playing La Moye, you couldn’t imagine that Les Mielles would be lying in wait less than a mile away on the wetlands in the centre of St. Ouen’s Bay. Significantly, Ian Woosnam has a big white house overlooking the course, but prefers to drive to La Moye rather than run out of landing zones – or indeed golf balls. The fairways are deeply lush, providing bite at the expense of roll, and the water hazards that feature on 15 of the holes are bottomless pits designed perhaps by ball manufacturers for the benefit of their investors.

Whether or not you hit it like Woosie, you will be mercilessly punished, to the point that you’ll probably be feeling as murderous as the aggressive swan that guards the green on the 18th. On the plus side, visitors can expect a warm welcome from enthusiastic members who play almost daily.

Generously, they point out reed beds in places that nature never intended, but don’t expect that to save you. For Les Mielles itself, visitors are part of a boarding party to be repelled as ruthlessly as possible.

The fourth course, the nine-hole Les Ormes, was right out of tee times, lucky because it gave me a window to visit the headquarters of the Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust. It was established by the author and broadcaster, Gerald Durrell, in 1963 to raise funds to save animals faced with extinction. Four years earlier, he’d set up his sanctuary and breeding centre in Jersey, in those days a breakthrough zoo, with large unfenced enclosures thick with trees, bushes and long grass. Today there are 150 species on the 31-acre gardens, notably gorillas and orangutans basking or swinging according to mood, plus some imposing snakes and lizards in the reptile house.

With France so close and a sea full of product to harvest, Jersey has no excuses for culinary failure. Then again, it doesn’t need them because a well-heeled clientele, both local and foreign, support a number of quality restaurants. The fish market in St Helier sells huge oysters, as grown in Grouville Bay, for 25p each, but expect a generous price hike if you want them served at your table at the Atlantique Seafood bar in the same building.

The terrace at Zanzibar, in the middle of St Brelade’s, is a great spot for a cocktail and a cheerful affordable meal, while Ocean in the Hotel Atlantic lives up to its new Michelin star with immaculately presented dishes off an imaginative menu. If it’s a fine crab sandwich you’re after, don’t miss out on the Hungry Man kiosk in St Rozel Bay, a natural pit stop on a walking tour. Sacrilege on a golf trip? Maybe, but on such a tiny island, it’s easy to break the rules.

fact file

GOLF

Royal Jersey Golf Club: +44 (0)1534 854416, This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it ; La Moye Golf Club: +44 (0)1534 743401, www.lamoyegolfclub. co.uk; Les Mielles Golf and Country Club: +44 (0)1534 482787, www.lesmielles.com

ATTRACTIONS

Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust: +44(0)1534 860000; www.durrell.org

ACCOMMODATION

Hotel Atlantic (a member of Small Luxury Hotels of the World): +44 (0)1534 744 101,www.slh.com

INFORMATION

Jersey Tourism: +44 (0)1534 448877;email: This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it ; website: www.jersey.com