This short holiday was planned in March, squeezed into a space in David’s busy late spring diary, and between my choir rehearsals; rather late in the day for hotel and ferry bookings!

After a series of fruitless inquiries, the Bell Rock Hotel in St Mary’s emailed me with news of a cancellation, and we secured four nights at this very traditional, well-run small hotel, the brain child of a local GP, Dr Bell. In the 1960s he converted and extended his Grade II listed building into a hotel, while continuing to see his patients in a downstairs consulting room.

There are two essential components of a holiday – sea, and no driving. Having secured scarce accommodation by the sea, booking ferries was urgent; both were in high demand in June. And 09.00 ferry departures from Penzance require a train journey the day before and a room for the night; likewise the return ferry journey necessitates another night in Penzance.

The Yacht Inn on the promenade and five minutes from the Quay had space. So far so good. Basic rooms come in around £170 in Penzance, and £300 on the Isles of Scilly; the ferry in June costs £115 each person, each way; the cheapest component is the train return fare at £76 each. As a mature (69 year old) woman sea kayaker told me on the ferry, the Isles of Scilly is an expensive place to holiday.

And of course it gets more expensive if wild weather brings ferry cancellations….

Tuesday 2 June

I spent the morning preparing to go away, all the time anxious that the very windy wet weather (following on from the end of May heat wave on four consecutive days!) might make our crossing very unpleasant.

My dread had been fed by stories from several friends about a ‘flat-bottomed 50 year old boat making heavy weather of the maelstrom of the five sea currents that converge en route to these isles’, which resulted in one case in a return by helicopter. Their stories, which smacked of Charybdis, played on my mind…

Mid afternoon, I received a text from the Scilly Steamship (!) company (aka the Scillonian ferry) to say that Thursday’s sailing was cancelled. Any sense of relief was crowded out by knowing that all train and hotel bookings were no longer cancellable, and our now pressing need of an extra night on the mainland.

There ensued a scramble for yet another room in Penzance; the Yacht Inn couldn’t oblige, but the Queen’s Hotel could. The Bell Rock in St Mary’s would have any empty but paid for room on its hands…

Wednesday 3 June

The 09.29 was early; we reached Exeter in plenty of time to board the 12.05 from Paddington to Penzance, and arrived there at 15.00 after very quiet, comfortable train journeys. Perfect!

The Yacht Inn has an Art Deco look; it’s friendly if unsophisticated, directly opposite the Jubilee Outdoor Pool on the Promenade. Despite blustery grey weather, there were swimmers in both the sea temperature main pool, and in the Geo pool, heated to 28deg C.

We walked along the windswept promenade, past the bowling green, in use despite the showers, to Newlyn, and settled in a seafood cafe for an or d’oeuve of John Dory and enormous, very fresh unpeeled prawns before walking back to Penzance proper.

Supper was already booked at 45 Queen Street, a large contemporary and relaxed eatery occupying a former garage/warehouse, with a bottle of Georgian wine and good food.

Thursday 4 June

This was the day we should have sailed; the wind and rain very evident. We were glad not to be at sea. Instead we were caught up in an IT crisis which had overtaken David overnight: the sudden withdrawal of a paid-for platform for the sign-ups for the report and related tastings later in June.

He had worked for days on their set up, and without explanation, recourse or refund, it had disappeared! The immediate need was to rescue lists and contacts; and then to rebuild some kind of link for potential attendees.

But first, we moved hotels.We transferred our luggage to the Queen’s Hotel, first established in 1862, with its 90 rooms and huge stairwell, now spoiled by necessary fire walls and back stairs. The wifi was slow, the frustrations mounted.

After a morning of painfully slow IT progress, we set off for the bus station, to catch the no. 2 bus at 12.35 to Marazion from where the causeway to St Michael’s Mount can be walked at low tide; today this meant 12.45 – 16.00.

The wind was extremely strong; the rain intermittent. Neither of us was disappointed that the Castle was closed and the gardens ill-advised owing to the gale force winds. The beaches, the water, the mount itself were sufficient.

And the Dolphin hotel offered fine views, window table and seafood linguine, alongside St Austell’s Tribute and a glass of Albarino. Result!

Back to Penzance proper, a bath, more IT recovery and a sortie to Chapel Street for the newish Orto restaurant where the food, the wine and the service were excellent. I declined a glass of traditional method Orange sparkling wine, but enjoyed the modest Roero Nebbiolo…

Friday 5 June

The weather and sea gods were kind; the sun shone, the wind dropped and after a laborious luggage drop and wait to board alongside the kayaks on the quay side, we boarded the Scillonian III at 08.30 and departed at 09.15.

David elected to sit indoors, surrounded by 48 year 8 students from Bishop Stopford School in Kettering, and their teachers. I donned all my waterproofs, and perched outside on the port-side stern deck, enjoying modest shelter and a clear view of the horizon, on which I fixed my gaze for the next three hours.

Two intrepid mature (69 and 66) women sea kayakers provided positive encouragement and sailing wisdom (they planned to camp and kayak for the week whatever the weather). To their dismay we were soon joined by a series of nauseated twelve year olds, who gamely threw up over the rails at regular intervals, attended by their patient, kindly and experienced teachers.

Their school has been visiting The Isles of Scilly for 56 years, taking nearly all their 210 year 8s on an impressive series of four, week-long camps. (We ran into them next on Tresco on Sunday)

The boat arrived on St Mary’s 45 minutes late, its dodgy starboard engine had slowed us down. The sea was choppy, though the winds dropped sufficiently to make it a reasonable crossing. I can report that midway there is a notorious confluence of currents from at least four directions; the Irish sea, the Channel, the southern Atlantic and northern Atlantic drifts. The sea boils, and large rollers come at this shallow, extra wide flat-bottomed ferry from every direction. Is this the origin of the expression ‘roller coaster’ ?

The Scilly Isles are surrounded by shallow ledges on which hundreds of vessels have floundered over the centuries; the flat bottom enables the ferry to approach and dock safely. Until the early Middle Ages it was possible at low tide to walk across the strands to Tresco and Bryher, to St Agnes and even St Martins. The whole unit was known as the Isle of Ennor.

We were very lucky to cross when we did; within hours the gale force winds had returned in the afternoon, and the night was rough and wild. Saturday’s sailings were once again cancelled, creating concerns over supplies amongst the caterers on the islands. Disruptions are not unusual; we understand better now why the Scillonian III only sails from May through to September!

We towed our luggage to the Bell Rock Hotel on Church Street, and found our smallish room at the top of this orderly, long established hotel, (small windows to the right of LHS pic, with its view shown in the RHS pic) and took local advice from the receptionist. It soon became clear that finding meals was the immediate challenge.

We did enjoy lunch of hummus and goat’s cheese salads at the Carvina Cafe close by. Afterwards we tried every restaurant in Hugh Town for today’s supper, only securing a 20.30 booking for Saturday at the Atlantic, and an 20.00 booking for Sunday at the Star Castle on Garrison Hill. St Mary’s Hall could only help us with phone numbers.

In the end we resorted to our own hotel’s set menu, eating at 18.15, as times are carefully allocated to alleviate pressure on service. The 24 members of a tour group, six to a table, were given times ten minutes apart, from 18.20!

The wild weather had set in once more, and we hunkered down in our attic room as windows rattled and trees swayed. Pity the campers!

Saturday 6 June

The forecast was spot on: wind and rain until midday when the skies cleared and the sun began to shine. We set off for the coastal path on the western side, aiming for lunch at the Golf Clubhouse Bistro, passing three small golden beaches and modest houses. The wind was still strong, the golfers expecting long drives with the wind behind them even if aiming seemed impossible. The food offering there was poor, so we returned to Juliet’s Kitchen 50 m lower down the path, and ordered the last crab salad and soup. A busy, cheerful spot, already nearly full, run yet again by young, competent staff.

On we walked along the cliff path, to the prehistoric Bant’s Carn Tomb near Halangy Down and on towards Bar Point, the most northerly point of St Mary’s, Easy walking on clear paths overlooking the small cliffs and rock formations on the shoreline below, though the wind was still fierce.

We turned south east to the Innisidgen entrance graves, passing many enormous long-established trees recently brought down by Storm Goretti in January this year, and past Helvear towards Holy Vale, then gingerly followed the damp and overgrown Nature Trail bank alongside the only freshwater stream on the island, to join the quiet A3110 towards Old Town.

We found the Old Town pub, and in its shelter, sat outside in the sun with another pint of a St Austell brew (Tribute, Proper Job etc) before returning to the hotel, for a bath and a change.

Supper at the Atlantic was delayed by tardy eaters occupying our table but we waited comfortably enough in the noisy, busy pub alongside its restaurant. Our overly apologetic waitress reeled off all the dishes not available, and after our protesting that it really didn’t matter, she reverted to a more comedic style and produced perfectly adequate, competent food.

Sunday 7 June

The cloudy but dry and relatively calm day produced a flurry of crossings to the various islands from 10.15, and most of St Mary’s visitors were lining up on the quay for one or other of the outings.

Three boats left for Tresco, one after the other, and in no time we were on the New Grimsby shore line walking towards the world famous Tresco Abbey Gardens, created from 1833 when Augustus Smith took over the tenancy of the old Abbey site. He spent the rest of his life time planting exotics from all around the world on these sheltered slopes, taking advantage of the marginal maritime climate (frost is very rare) with an almost tropical rainfall.

And the gardens are remarkable. The cafe and shop do well, staffed again by willing friendly energetic young people, many of whom move to the Islands to work where accommodation goes with the job, and regularly return, or stay.

The walk to the gardens and then onto the Carn Near low water landing must be a challenge for some of the less mobile visitors. Most of our fellow visitors were mature – our age and over, well shod and waterproofed, but tending to geriatric; stiff, unsure on their feet, cautious. I did find this depressing.

The boats came for us, and we walked through Hugh Town where only the Atlantic and the Bishop and Wolf were open, stopping there for another pint. We may have a little way to go in the chilling department but we score high marks on eating and drinking.

After a short while in the hotel, and a bath, we ventured out for our supper at the Star Castle. This extraordinary hotel, opened in 1999, is part of the castle on the headland above the quay, built in 1593 at Elizabeth I’ s command, as part of the southern defences against the French and Spanish. It lies within the Garrison’s wall, itself built and rebuilt over the centuries, including the 1940s, around which we walked the following day.

We opted for the restaurant with the á la carte menu, set in the middle of the hotel grounds, close by the bungalow type rooms. In the summer it must be impossibly hot. David described the structure as a greenhouse to the waiter who didn’t disagree. Not one but two waiters made heavy weather of removing a cork from a very reasonable Barbaresco. The first, having broken the cork, rushed to replace the bottle from the main hotel’s cellar. It was very pleasant once it finally arrived. My pear and cheese starter could easily sub for a pudding; the food was pretty good.

Coffee was served in the Dungeon bar within the hotel. Ghastly place! Gory accounts of historic incarcerations and various other torments did not enamour me to this crowd pleasing. The young bar man from Liverpool was garrulous if cheerful; another person glad of provided accommodation. He demonstrated some complicated cocktail-making which turned out to be for the benefits of his fellow waiting staff.

The repetition of an erroneous claim that Charles II had imprisoned Cromwell in this dungeon was tedious. Cromwell died in 1658; Charles was not invited to return as a constitutional monarch until 1660. I bit my tongue.

Monday 8 June

The wind finally dropped, and the sun shone as we packed up our bags, leaving them in the hotel to walk the Garrison Headland, before finding an excellent lunch in the beachside cafe Dibble and Grub at Porthcressa.

The sun continued to shine as we walked on from there, along a coastal path marked helpfully by little discreet red flags around Peninnis Head with its extraordinary hugh rocks, stones and fissures. We reached Old Town and walked past the Five Islands secondary school to Church Street and the hotel to talk briefly with Chris the Regent tour company guide and a former headteacher, and to return the key we had inadvertently pocketed.

En route to the Quay we stopped for coffee, and then joined the queue patiently waiting to embark the moored Scillonian III at 15.30. Hold luggage is rounded up in crates, and craned into the hold, while we positioned ourselves as before, David indoors and me outdoors, at the stern. The sea and wind were calm and the crossing very pleasant. Hurray!

Monday evening is every caterer’s night off, though we had booked a table for 20.15 at the Boatshed in Penzance, close by the Quayside. Lucky that we had, for once again, people also from the ferry were turned away as we hastily sat at our table, luggage still in tow. Matte at the Yacht Inn told us to eat our supper; he’d stay on if necessary to let us in. In fact the bar was busy when we arrived. We headed for bed quite early; this outdoor life is tiring!

Tuesday 9 June

We woke early, and had (another) English breakfast before packing up and heading for the train via Tesco Metro to buy some portable lunch for the train. The 10.20 left promptly with a smattering of passengers in booked seats, and arrived in Exeter less than three hours later. The Andover train left at 13.25, and we were home soon after 16.30 having had to change trains at Salisbury. A wonderful way to travel!