You know it’s been quite the week when you spend a lot of time saying ‘at least no-one died’.

That was spoken a lot by the residents of Bonchurch, myself included, following the sudden and devastating landslide of Sunday, December 10.

The scale of the disaster came as a shock to all, not least those who had the police knocking late at night, suggesting they evacuate. 

Daylight the next morning was another shocker, when we could all see how major this was.

Houses that previously had lovely long gardens were now on the brink.

Smuggler’s Haven gardens now a sheer cliff face – the toilet block sunk to its doom 70-odd feet below.

It soon became clear the Devil’s Chimney was unlikely to have made it – buried under tons of earth. All that’s left are memories and photos, pictures of Islanders and holidaymakers posing at the distinctive narrow steps, squeezed between the rock face walls.

In all the CP articles I’ve read over the last few decades – tens of thousands of course – a few stand out.

I always liked Matthew Chatfield’s 2015 My Island interview because he said in answer to what was his favourite beauty spot: “I offer one of my favourite overlooked places – The Landslip, Bonchurch. I have no idea why this is not the most famous tourist attraction on the Island. Don’t miss the Devil’s Chimney.”

This really resonated, and stuck with me. In any other country, the Devil’s Chimney would have been hailed as a main tourist attraction. I’ve been to far worse places on my travels!

Now, social media is filled with two types of posts on the Devil’s Chimney – photos of people who had been there, and sad laments from those who said: ‘It was on my list’.

A timely reminder to actually DO the things on your list, especially when they are free and in your neighbourhood. 

I spent a lot of last week near the landslide. I mean, I live near it, for starters. But I’ve been helping a friend evacuate her home, possibly for good, and I’ve been reporting from the scene.

On many occasions, I heard trees snap as they succumbed to the movement of the land. A chill ran through me every time.

But what has struck me is the community. The pulling together in times of need. Homes offered up, errands run, production lines of volunteers packing up possessions.

It’s difficult to adjust to the thought that the landscape has changed for good, that we’ve lost such treasured local landmarks and some people are not in their homes this Christmas.

But the Ventnor spirit is strong.

Poignant words were written by Kirsty Chapman, of the Better Days Café, who is arguably best placed to know the community inside and out:

An eerie quiet hangs over the town.
The earth moved under our feet a few days ago,
Not In a good way with a disco beat. 
There's a respectful silence stretching over the downs, from All of the Island, to our little town. 
The sea and the devil has reclaimed its land, though sneaky and spiteful, quite underhand. 
The crack that travelled through the earth, has spread to our hearts. 
But still there remains, quite possibly, the most beautiful land. 
Authors and painters, poets renowned, found the beauty in our treasured land. 
So although we are shrinking and feeling secluded, hopeful and possibly deluded,
There will never be, a community, 
Like Ventnor!