Ask a Busy Woman: Tresco - Being Silly in the Scillies - part 2 (This one is actually about Tresco!)

Finally our destination is in sight (and it's only two and a half days since we left home!). It's a short hop by small boat from St Mary's to Tresco via Bryher and excitement is mounting. For me perhaps in a different way from the others because although some of the party have been here before and already love it, the last time I came was on an Intrepid Granny holiday and it was, without doubt, one of my favourite ones.

We stayed, back then, sometime between Mum's first knee operation and her second one, at the Island Hotel where lobster was a nightly feature on the table d'hote menu and the whole place was a delight from start to finish. Ferried about by golf buggy (the Intrepid Granny) and me on foot for the most part, we explored this beautiful island with its stunning garden. https://www.tresco.co.uk/enjoying/abbey-garden

Now there is no hotel but many, many holiday cottages on this tiny dot in the ocean, everyone of them charming, incredibly well equipped and beautifully furnished. Our's, Raven Cottage, is no exception and we are a spit, literally, from the beach - and, as it turns out, a very nice eaterie!

There is, to be clear, no budget element to this holiday. Everything you consume pretty much is being brought in on the ferry (apart from the veg which is grown in the Abbey Gardens, I believe) and prices are, to quote someone else who's been here, like Fortnum and Mason. Everything is owned (or rather leased from the Duchy of Cornwall) by the same family so whether you purchase from the little grocery shop or the gift shop at the Gardens or anywhere else, it costs the same. But it seems a small price to pay for everything this island offers.

I could wax endlessly about the incredible views at every turn, the white glistening sand, the crystal clear waters and so on but that's only part of its charms. The birdlife here is so tame that eating a biscuit or sandwich whilst sitting outside attracts a gang of sparrows, a song thrush or blackbird and even, worst case scenario, a seagull. They eat from your hands, nest close by the back door with complete confidence and the rabbits have developed a level of cheek beyond that even at Crow House. I am starting to feel like Saint Francis of Assisi! And watching sparrows polish off sugar lumps from our al fresco coffee is so lovely/hilarious - it feels like Hitchcock's The Birds low-budget b-movie version! Seals pop their heads up to look at us and disappear sleekly under the waves. Best of all, red squirrels are here in numbers, without fear of terrorism from the grey variety who are, in my view, just rats with good pr (sorry, picked that one up somewhere!).

The first night pizza and wine takeaway was an eye-watering price, and the ice cream we had enjoyed earlier that day would have given our one-time-only ice cream purchase by the Trevi Fountain in Rome a run for its money price-wise. But swallow hard (and slowly!) and realise you're paying for what makes this island so special.

In my memory the weather on this island is always good. The reality is that the weather ranges from foggy and damp to driving rain to brilliant sunshine with remarkable speed. But when the weather closes in, the helicopters cease to operate. And of course, the logistics of getting folks on and off the island on the various changeover days when the Scillonian (the ferry from the mainland) only runs once a day to St Mary's must call for some super-high levels of efficiency.

Regular readers know that winter or summer, sun or moon up, I like to get up early and once I've gathered myself, take the dog for a walk. (Just to be clear, the dog is not here despite my having a pocket full of empty poo bags.) There are a plethora of paths and tracks to take along the quiet coastline, across something reminiscent of Bodmin Moor, past castles built by both sides of the English Civil War, cutting through walls of rhododendrons, waist-deep bracken and gorse (fell and am still picking the thorns out!) and with views of the sparkling sea visible almost everywhere. So early morning yomping sans chien is the order of the day for me, sometimes alone and sometimes - if other folks are up - in company. No worries about getting lost - the island is only 2.5 miles long!

Apart from the friendly fauna and birdlife, the wildflowers here are present in epic numbers, not harassed by pesticides and farmers' understandable need to make the land profitable. And beyond the ragged robin, foxgloves, honeysuckle and other lovelies, there's a whole range of succulents that definitely wouldn't grow in Yorkshire - global warming or no. The Abbey Garden, of course, is at this time of year a riot of colours and scents. A year ago we were inadvertently driving the NC500 in Scotland and went to Inverewe Gardens on the West Coast. Striking similarities with brilliant and powerful giant plants staking their claim to light and soil.

It would be so tempting to include here the stuff that made me cry with laughter and I can truly say I have laughed more this week than cumulatively in the last two years. Falling back into the easy friendship and humour of many years is something that better writers than me perhaps can pull off. I know that if I write it, I will only erase it when I edit. But my children - and the children of our friends if they happen to read this - may remember the levels of silliness we used to reach in Salcombe. And yes, children, nothing has changed! We sing loudly, tell the same jokes (with a few additions) and crack up at the priceless memories we have of each other and of you all.

OK enough slush! Let's get on to stuff to do here!

My morning yomp has taken me to amazing, deserted beaches and across both moor and wetland. The best beach, viewed early one morning was Apple Tree Bay - a stunning crescent of a beach which is actually overlooked by the heliport meaning that whilst we are beachcombing for shells, the helicopter rises like Apocalypse Now but without the Ride of the Valkyries playing as a soundtrack.

Other yomps took in the wetland in the middle of the island prompting our wildlife expert to stop at regular intervals at some obscure birdsong or other. "Look, look," he'd stage-whisper as his wife and I search the surrounding greenery, reeds, trees and brambles, "it's the ...." something I've never heard of, usually followed by me saying, "You're making up names again..." I'm fairly sure he wasn't but there were a lot of LBJs which is apparently twitcher-code for 'Little Brown Jobs' ie any unrecognisable small brown bird.

We made two trips to Bryher, a neighbouring island just a few minutes (phew!) by boat from Tresco. The first was to the Crab Shack which turned out to be literally a shack in a field with a gazebo attached which comprised the kitchen. Scallops and crabs made up the entire menu which was not so good for my beloved who doesn't eat crab (almost the only thing he won't eat) so he had scallops, followed by scallops. I'd like to say it was the best crab ever but that would be bending the truth but we had an absolutely top time and the staff were wonderful. And the wine definitely flowed meaning that we were last on the boat back to Tresco. I did apologise for being late to the rest of the passengers, probably loudly and perhaps slurring my words just a touch. As my beloved usually says after any of my impromptu speeches - "Mercifully short." Mysteriously this was followed by visit to the New Inn for more beers and I was so happy to be walking rather than making a perilous way home on a bike.

Short detour here... we hired bikes - 5 for the so-called 'fit folk' and an electric bike for the other one. At the time of writing I have one bruised and scraped knee and one cut calf now healing. Note to self: cycling is a dangerous sport though I also fell over twice out walking so perhaps it's me, not the bike!

Our second trip to Bryher was by a smaller and noticeably more sober party the following day. The reason for our trip was to go the Island Fish shop for lobster for dinner, to see artist Richard Pierce's gallery and to have a walk round the island taking in Hell Bay. The Island Fish shop is not only excellent quality and well-priced (rare in these parts) but also staffed by a very handsome chap - just saying... Again stunning views at every turn (including in the fish shop!) and coffee outside at the Hell Bay Hotel was accompanied by many sparrows who sat on the table and ate the sugar lumps! Richard Pierce's paintings are so beautiful. Sadly I suspect they would look out of place in landlocked Burton Leonard but very tempted nonetheless.

Our other adventure took us to St Martin's which is another of the 5 inhabited islands. St Martin's has a different, less touristy feel to it with incomers making way for cars and tractors. It also has a seriously top pub, the Seven Stones Inn where the lobster rolls were sublime. And an artisan jeweller, Fay Page who creates stunning pieces based on the local shells found on the beach. I managed a third and best swim of the week from the beach here. There is a brief window, I have now discovered, between being absolutely nithered to the bone as you get in, with the added bonus of brain-freeze, and getting so cold you have to get out of the water before you develop hyperthermia. The brief window of joyously swimming in crystal clear waters really does make the arrival and departure pain worthwhile!

Finally, I can't finish without mentioning our local - literally outside our front door on Tresco - the Ruin Beach Cafe. Delicious food, superb welcome, great service makes this a fabulous place for a treat. Hold your breath when the bill comes and remember that there are very few places in the UK where the view, the ambiance and the food is at this level.

Our final treat was to go home on the helicopter. I had so wanted my beloved's first view of this island paradise to be from the air but sadly our journey outbound had to be the ferry. But it was a spectacular clear sunny day for our return (don't you just hate it when the weather promises to be perfect for the next lot of guests?) and the views as we bade farewell from the air were absolutely show-stopping!

I know that you can get to most places in the world in the time that it took us to reach Tresco and possibly a stay at some pretty glitzy hotels would come in at a similar price but it is an incredibly beautiful place. Don't think it's just an extension of the Cornish coast - this is something else and definitely worth a place on your bucket list.