My hotel was in bustling downtown Hugh Town the largest settlement on the largest island of the Scilly Isles. It is small, very small. There are a couple of good reasons for that. Firstly of course the Scillies aren’t exactly swarming with inhabitants and secondly “largest island of the Scilly Isles” doesn’t mean it’s particularly large. What that means is that you can live on the most “remote” farm on the island and still only be a five minute drive from the centre of “town”.
The result is that Hugh Town is a collection of of shops, pubs and holiday lets. No doubt some locals live there too but there isn’t a specific need. It isn’t like they have much of a commute. The town itself was familiar to me from my time on St Pierre. A small collection of closely packed stone buildings without too much in the way of external adornment. Narrow streets wind around enabling you to get lost in a town you can walk across in literally ten minutes.
Hugh Town is all about the harbour. The best quality harbour was selected and the town was jammed onto any convenient land nearby. The fact that there was a hill you can build a castle on probably helped the town planners make up their minds. Now an expensive hotel I couldn’t book a room in sits there instead. Well I say instead it’s the same building it’s just been repurposed.
My first full day on St Mary’s (aforementioned largest island etc) was a Sunday and I assumed, correctly, that there wouldn’t be much in the way of tourist pandering going on. I considered going for a walk. Then a shop woman told me that a cruise ship with seven hundred passengers was arriving today. I was definitely going for a walk.
I set out without any particular destination in mind but walking along the coast. This is the useful thing about islands. If you stick to the coast and keep the sea on the same side all the way you will eventually return to your starting point. This is useful for the geographically challenged such as myself although it’s a little less practical if the island is Australia.
The day was pleasant without being hot and I strolled roughly along the coast or at least at the top of the cliff next to the sea. I think it still counts as coast even if the water is a couple of hundred feet straight down. My immediate destination was Old Town, St Mary’s second city. About half an hour’s walk from Hugh Town it consists of a handful of houses, a cafe, a beach and (for some reason) a Thai restaurant. The restaurant was closed but the cafe was open, just and I paused for refreshment while I considered my options.
A little guide I had bought told me that the island was only about nine miles in circumference which seemed doable so I set out to return to Hugh Town via the rest of the island.
The Scillies aren’t exactly wilderness, they have been inhabited since the Bronze Age. At least there are burial mounds dating from that time which implies people lived there since the Scillies are a long way to cart a corpse. Most of St Mary’s is farmland with the exception of the rocky bit around the coast. And of course the High Moor.
I found my way to the High Moor after negotiating my way around the airport (I guided myself by the “keep out” signs). The High Moor is home to the only patch of open fresh water of any size on the island. Given the dimensions of the island “of any size” still doesn’t mean particularly large. It is apparently a haven for bird life and there is a walkway (so our shoes don’t bruise the moor) and a couple of hides that you can sneak into and gaze across a not particularly large patch of water and reeds to see the frenetic mass of bird life competing for pond space. I walked along the walkway and popped into a hide. There was precisely one bird on the water, as I watched it left. I hovered for a little but nothing else avian came to take its place.
So I walked across the moor, transit time about ten minutes and realised I had completely lost sight of the sea and had no idea where I was. Fortunately there was a road so I followed it until I found a sign directing me to a Bronze Age burial mound. Apparently the Bronze Age dead liked to have a view and as the burial mound came into view so did the sea. Bearings restored I continued on my way.
At some point I had come to the decision that I would walk around the island a decision assisted by the fact that I now had very little choice unless I wanted to slink back the way I came. On I went, a beautiful sea on my right, flower farms on my left and a very narrow footpath under my feet. I came round a headland and found the damn cruise ship I had been trying to avoid sitting smugly in a bay waiting for me. Fortunately there was no sign of the threatened seven hundred passengers. What there was was a sign directing me to a tea house apparently sitting alone in the middle of the island. I popped in there for a cheddar and onion toasted sandwich. On balance it was probably a good thing that no one was sharing my bed tonight.
Replete with cheese and onion I continued on my way. Eventually Hugh Town appeared in front of me and I went into a small orgy of self congratulation at my achievement. Then I realised that there was still a lot of wiggly coastline between myself and my destination. Onward I plunged but with the final destination firmly in view. Having traversed the High Moor it was only appropriate that I also cross the Low Moor (I thought it was a duck pond) and eventually wound up back in Hugh Town tired but triumphant.
Along the way I saw a large number of red tailed kites or as I called them, birds. I only know they were red tailed kites because I overheard a conversation in the cafe in Old Town waxing lyrical about the red tailed kites. Up until then I had assumed they were high flying gulls.
No comments:
Post a Comment