Channel Islands England

Adolf Hitler's ambition to invade Britain during World War II got no farther than the Nazi occupation of the tiny Channel Islands off the coast of France, but peace has been a long time coming there. More than half a century later, a vituperative war of words rages unabated among historians, journalists, the British public and angry islanders.

BRITISH weather forecasters were predicting snow for the January morning I arrived in Jersey. That wasn't what I had in mind. I wanted to vanquish the winter blues with flowers, which is not as absurd as it might sound; spring comes early to the 45-square-mile island in the English Channel.

Rumors to the contrary notwithstanding, this is no Utopia. Consider, for example, that there was a five-minute traffic jam just the other day as tourists vied with the many residents who customarily go home for lunch. And a visitor personally witnessed litter in the form of a discarded hamburger container. People who leave their cars unlocked have lately reported things stolen from inside, and there was even a murder last year. Or maybe it was the year before.

Adolf Hitler's ambition to invade Britain during World War II got no farther than the Nazi occupation of the tiny Channel Islands off the coast of France, but peace has been a long time coming there. More than half a century later, a vituperative war of words rages unabated among historians, journalists, the British public and angry islanders.

BRITISH weather forecasters were predicting snow for the January morning I arrived in Jersey. That wasn't what I had in mind. I wanted to vanquish the winter blues with flowers, which is not as absurd as it might sound; spring comes early to the 45-square-mile island in the English Channel.

If you're even thinking about a trip abroad and you need a new passport, or need to renew an old one, apply now. The State Department, which expects this year to easily top last year's record of processing 5 million passports, says that even mail-in applications that used to take two weeks to process are taking as long as four to five weeks. The surge has several causes, spokesmen say.

Prince Rainier III, who reshaped this Riviera backwater into a sparkling hide-out for the rich, is 81 and ailing. And some wonder whether after his reign ends, medieval-modern Monaco's fate will be to melt away into neighboring France. Such talk, heresy to most Monegasques, is uttered only in hushed tones, and no crisis is necessarily imminent. The line of succession, on which Monaco's independence hangs, is assured through Albert, Rainier's popular 46-year-old bachelor son.

Rumors to the contrary notwithstanding, this is no Utopia. Consider, for example, that there was a five-minute traffic jam just the other day as tourists vied with the many residents who customarily go home for lunch. And a visitor personally witnessed litter in the form of a discarded hamburger container. People who leave their cars unlocked have lately reported things stolen from inside, and there was even a murder last year. Or maybe it was the year before.