Today is Liberation Day back home in Guernsey, and in a way I’m sad to be missing it. Even though it is chronically overrated and often little more than a thinly-veiled excuse to get leathered on a third day of the week, it had its charm too. Now that I’ve left, being from Guernsey is something vaguely different and interesting, and as such I’m more willing to adopt it as part of my identity, whereas three short days ago I was gently ashamed of it. I’m sure on future Liberation Days when I’m not on the island, I will have fond memories of it, and think wistfully of gâche, the sea air and the tune of Sarnia Cherie.
Perhaps I’ll get a flag to hang on my wall.