Island-Sity

As an Apprentice fan, I often feel as if I've been put through the mangle myself after watching the hopefuls compete to win that week's task and then see the losing team troop back into the boardroom to face the wrath of Lord Sugar. Such is the tension, I reckon I deserve a day of five-star indulgence of my own to recover from the ordeal.

Well, the good news is you don't have to vie to be Lord Sugar's Apprentice to follow in Jo, Chris and Jamie's footsteps and be pampered in Jersey. The Atlantic Hotel, where the trio went for their treat, has set up a Decadent Lunch Date to mark its inclusion in the programme - and it's open to all.

Jersey is closer to France than to Britain, but by taking a private jet you and your friends (so much more relaxing to be with than arch-rivals) can be there in such good time for lunch that you can even help to choose the ingredients.

Thanks to the island's size, it takes only two shakes of a Jersey cow's tail to get from the little airport to the sleek Atlantic Hotel, situated at the southern end of St Ouen's Bay on Jersey's west coast.

There, my friend Gill and I were met by Mark Jordan, head chef at the Atlantic's Ocean Restaurant, and we set off with him to find the freshest ingredients for our meal. We drove along the sweeping arc of the bay - four miles of white sand and rolling waves dotted with surfers, and flanked by a solid concrete anti-tank wall. It was built by forced labourers under the occupying German forces during the Second World War in an effort to make the island a fortress.

Our destination was another relic of the occupation: a German bunker that once guarded the north point of the bay at L'Etacq but is now the home of Faulkner Fisheries. Just below the bunker is the beach where Jo, Chris and Jamie were seen meeting octogenarian fisherman Bill as he unloaded his catch of lobsters.

The sea was too rough for small boats to go out when we visited, so we stepped past a bubbling lobster cauldron into the chilly bunker to meet Sean Faulkner. Sean was brought up gathering shellfish for supper on this beach and he was only seven when he sold his first fish - a conger eel - to a local restaurant.

After six years at sea as a purser on P&O cruise ships, he returned to Jersey and in 1980 converted the long-abandoned bunker into a base for his firm. In the warren of thick-walled ammunitions stores and gunrooms he has built viviers - tanks filled with seawater - and lurking in one of them was part of our lunch.

Pulling out a lobster for us, Sean could tell just by turning it over that it was a male, about eight years old, and weighed approximately 4lb. Gingerly holding the lively creature, I was relieved to see that its huge claws were securely bound with rubber bands.