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Other Eden I have visited many different places, but had always managed to overlook the Isles of Scilly until this year. There was to be found, so I had learned, a little paradise only 25 miles from the westerly tip of Cornwall. Here were little gems of land enjoying a subtropical climate set in a turquoise sea and abounding in bird life on a scale fast disappearing on the mainland. Before I had even reached Penzance to set sail on the ferry, I was prepared for the extravagant abundance of wildlife as I realised I was travelling on the M5 during the height of the breeding season for traffic cones. These charming little creatures have multiplied greatly due to a series of wet summers. There appear to be three main sub-species, the greater, the lesser and increasingly, the crested with a small yellow light on the top. They stand there mile after mile in serried ranks, oblivious to the traffic often blocking entire lanes for no apparent reason. Oddly, nobody seems to know their precise breeding location which is a closely guarded secret because, incredible though it may seem, some people wish them harm. but not everybody, and there are reported cases of some people keeping them as pets in their bedroom although I deplore this practice as cones are sociable creatures. Having left my car in Penzance, I boarded the Scillonian III for the two and a half hour voyage to Hugh Town, the capital, although it is little more than a village. It is situated on a narrow isthmus between the garrison and the rest of St. Mary's proper. All told, there are 140 islands and islets and St. Mary's is the largest, even so it is only two and a half miles long. The other inhabited islands are Tresco, St. Martin's, St. Agnes and Bryher and I planned to visit them all. Transport around St. Mary's is bus, taxi, bicycle or foot and of course it is almost impossible to get lost because, if you keep walking, you will end up back where you started. To visit the Isles of Scilly is to travel back in time to the more leisurely pace of things I remember from my childhood in the 1950's. Strangers wish you “good morning” or “good afternoon”. The hedgerows abound with familiar and exotic flowers and song birds that used to be abundant on the mainland are commonplace. Often, they are so tame that they will take food from your hand. There is a delightful air of improvisation about life for the residents and, from the fumes coming the vehicles, I'll swear they run on paraffin. However, there are so few vehicles that air pollution is simply not a problem. There is nearly always a breeze or gale, but it hardly ever gets cold. Some snow fell in the 1980's and some of the older residents wouldn't venture out until the snow had gone. Naturally, seafood is a popular item on the menu and, after several days of eating fish, I decided to ring the changes and headed for the Chicken Shack. I ordered a chicken curry, only to be told “Chicken's off”. “But,” I protested weakly, “This is the Chicken Shack...you can't be serious.” At this point, I distinctly heard the word “sarcastic” above the murmur from the other diners and as I turned wild eyed, they all studiously looked at their plates and began eating rapidly. In the end, I had to settle for a Cornish pasty. Another sight
on St. Mary's which was once normal on the mainland is elm trees. Before
this, the last time I saw a mature elm was in the early 1970's. Most days
it was my custom to wander down to the quayside and decide which island
to visit. I visited St. Agnes twice, including over the sand bar to the
neighbouring island of My visit to Tresco, the second largest island, naturally included a visit to the famous sub-tropical abbey gardens. The variety of trees and plants from around the world is breathtaking. Bryher is the smallest inhabited island and lies alongside Tresco, divided by a narrow channel. It too has a dramatic beauty all of its own. St. Martin's became my favourite of the islands I visited with its hedged flower growing fields stretching down to the sea. I will return one day, but I will be surprised if the Isles have changed very much. First published in VISA issue 48 (winter 2002) |