Our trip to the Channel Islands this summer included a stay on Sark.

Under the effects of wind and water, Sark is becoming two islands, Great and Little Sark. They are joined by a narrow isthmus called La Coupée.

It’s a spectacular spot, the cliffs shearing off steeply from both sides of the narrow path. My photos don’t really do it justice.

La Coupée used to be so dangerous that people would crawl over it on their hands and knees. During the nineteenth century, the path eroded until it was only three feet wide. The present road dates from 1945 and was constructed by German prisoners of war. It can still be an eventful crossing even today; on busy days tourists pushing bikes, the principal means of transport on this car-free island, mingle with carts pulled by horses. The latter have right of way, but there’s not a lot of room when they pass! Sadly, I didn’t get a shot of a cart on La Coupée; I always seemed to be there at the wrong time.

I did, however, manage to take some photos of La Coupée at dusk. As the light dims, and the people leave, it becomes a spooky place and, not surprisingly, has had a reputation for being haunted. One story tells of a black dog, called the Tchico, who roams the cliffs around La Coupée at night. I didn’t see Tchico, which is probably just as well.

More about Sark next week.