In 1682, a bizarre amendment was added to an inscription on the Monument of the Great Fire of London: "Popish frenzy, which wrought such horrors, is not yet quenched." A major reason for the protracted anti-Catholicism in England is Foxe's Book of Martyrs, described by its editor as a work exerting "a greater influence upon the consciousness of early modern England... than any other [aside from the Bible and the Common Prayer".

Q. Last August, we went on holiday to Sark, flying to Guernsey with Flybe. Severe weather conditions caused our ferry from Sark to Guernsey to be cancelled, making us miss our return flight to Manchester. We were insured through Flybe, and we told the airline in the morning that our family of five could not fly, and that we were stranded on Sark without accommodation. Flybe's adviser was most helpful and reassured us not to worry, that our insurance would cover us since a Force 9 storm was not our fault and that, for a small administration fee, he could transfer us on to another direct flight later that evening or on the following day.

Hitch-hiking is inherently rewarding. You travel through interesting places, chauffeur-driven by a member of a self-selecting group of friendly, helpful people. Occasionally, you can step out of a vehicle having made a cash profit too.

An independent review into the British Government's role in supporting the banking systems of the Crown Dependencies and overseas territories was announced by the Chancellor yesterday in the pre-Budget report.

The memorable title of Shaffer's first (and sadly last) novel is the name of a war-time book club, invented by a group of Guern-sey villagers stopped by a German patrol for breaking curfew.

When Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling were talking tough to Iceland a few weeks ago – seizing the UK assets of Icelandic banks and promising to stand behind all UK savers with money in those banks' accounts – I felt a great national pride. After all, the Icelandic Government had apparently told us that they had no intention of honouring their obligations in the UK – even though hundreds of thousands of savers had deposited money in the UK subsidiaries of their banks.

The most evocative writer's home in the UK is owned by the city of Paris. "No house ever said so much about its owner," declares Graham Robb in his masterly biography of Victor Hugo. "Hauteville House gives one the distinct impression of being swallowed alive by Hugo." During our recent visit to Guernsey, Mrs W and I puffed up the steep street in St Peter Port to the four-storey dwelling of this titan of letters for 14 years from 1855. After we rang on the bell, a doorkeeper brusquely inquired, "French or English?" When this had been sorted out, we had to give our names and were told to present ourselves half an hour later for a tour in English. It was all a bit bureaucratic considering the former owner's disdain for authority. During the wait, we explored the garden, which, like the house itself, is immaculately maintained by its Parisian curators.

We have just spent a week lolling on beaches, disturbing the innocent rest of periwinkles in rock pools, relishing the eggy pong of ageing seaweed and eating unfeasible quantities of crustaceans. Nothing so unusual about that, since the Weasel household normally passes August on the Yorkshire Riviera. Except we weren't. Our littoral rambles took place on a nibbled triangle of granite 75 miles from Weymouthand 40 miles from Cherbourg. It may seem strange to take a holiday from a holiday, but I was summoned to Guernsey to act as witness at the wedding of dear friends. After my onerous matrimonial duties ("Can you ensure that no confetti is thrown? Rose petals and rice, yes! Confetti, no!") and droll speechifying ("Act in haste, repent at leisure"), we tacked on a few days to explore an island that, according to Perry's Guide to Guernsey, "was voted in one international survey 'the happiest place in the world'."

For more than 450 years Sark stood alone as one of Europe's last bastions of feudal law, but yesterday marked the end of an era for the tiny Channel island as the UK Privy Council approved changes to its system of government, heralding the arrival of democracy for the first time.