Not a Cheap Date
⬅ previous ⬆intro next ➡Day 6 ~ Saturday 7 September ~ Tresco
It's my birthday, so I have a birthday treat!
Here it comes. Or more precisely, here our transport to it comes. We're off to St Martin's for a morning snorkelling with seals.
I have to say we were a little nervous until now. We'd booked the trip online, but the pickup from Tresco is an extra that isn't directly bookable on the website, you have to request it in a comment. That's fine, but come yesterday, we'd not had any formal confirmation despite a follow-up email query. Not to worry, we may not have an email but we have a RIB.
At their little hut, we're given heavy-duty wetsuits, gloves and boots. The Atlantic is not the kind of place where we are accustomed to snorkelling, but the team assure us that we'll be fine.
Aren't we a fetching pair!
Suitably attired, we return to the boat.
Chessen is our captain today. When not taking tour groups, she tells us she's studying marine biology. And with her rather unusual name, we can digitally stalk her and find out that she's a member of a prominent local fishing family (https://www.islandfish.co.uk/about.html) and has helped with fisheries research in the Scillies (https://www.scillyifca.gov.uk/fisheries-research).
Amanda doesn't much like slow boats but fast ones, that's different. We still remember the Venice water taxis, where the basic principle seemed to be, "drive like you're a mafioso fleeing justice!"
Seals ahoy!
On with our flippers and masks and over the side we go.
The water is a touch murky, but the seals aren't shy so it's easy to get close enough for photos. The most difficult part is actually framing the shot because the currents make it difficult to hold the camera steady. And indeed, as promised, with our nice thick wetsuits we're not at all cold.
We've been warned that there are plenty of jellyfish around, but not to worry too much as we're almost entirely covered up. What we hadn't been told is how pretty they are. There are some fish fish to be seen, but not many and not very photogenic.
The seals can get quite friendly!
Amanda sadly gets a touch seasick in the sea, despite being fine on the boat earlier. The water is calm enough by Atlantic standards, but there's undeniably a bit of swell. At speed, the boat just bounces over the waves, but when you're floating and being carried up and down it's a different matter.
Back at Tresco we say goodbye to Chessen. We have had the return journey to ourselves as the rest of the group are getting the regular ferry back to St Mary's.
All in all, Seal Snorkelling Adventures gets a 100% thumbs-up from us.
Although Tresco's economy is almost entirely tourism-based, they do have some pasture and cows.
There are a few cats on the island, but they are mostly too busy for the tourists. This one says hello briefly, but then he or she is off.
We are tempted by some of the art here, but will we succumb?
Oh dear, what a pity, never mind; it's only money. But no pictures of what we've bought because they've been too well wrapped up for safe carriage home. I'll try and remember to add a couple when we're back.
It's a fine place for cycling. No traffic to speak of, and while the island isn't flat, none of the hills are too long and steep. Girona it's not. We're going to visit a beach on the south side.
Past a small lake.
Oh look, there goes our helicopter service.
A rocky bit.
And a beachy bit.
And grassy dunes a little further inland.
We're not quite sure what this seaweed cabbage is, but we like it.
And these worm-cast things are a bit of a mystery too.
We've abandoned the bikes for the moment. It's impossible to cycle on this.
Transporting a birthday cake would probably have been a bit impractical, so Amanda has been creative. Chocolate marzipan bar and sparklers, what more does a boy need?!
Ah, rhetorical question, a boy also needs a nice bottle of fizz.
As I write this, a rather embarrassingly long time after the fact, it's just been in the news that some people would like to see kava-with-a-K legalised in the UK after King Charles drank it in Samoa recently. We drank it in Fiji in 2003. We were in a group visiting a tribal village and were told that they would pick an honorary "chief" from our number who would partake in an important ceremony for guests. Let me quote from our diary (a section written by Amanda):
In the middle is a bowl of what looks like muddy river water. This is the kava. In the kava ceremony they will offer the kava to one of us and we can’t refuse it would be the height of bad manners. Before you take the kava you have to clap three times and take the kava swallow it – yes the whole of the offering and then say “Bula!” (sort of “Cheers!”). Well guess who they pick, yup S. Well we know he will do it and he then performs. Phew we all think at least it wasn’t me. Oh-oh they are going to do it again and now that they have given it to S as our chief they feel that A as Mrs Chief must have some. Oh dear, A goes through with it but boy oh boy she thinks it is vile. Not only does it look like muddy river water, it tastes like it – aghhh. S didn’t think it was too bad, A thinks he is joking!
Cava-with-a-C is something else, and we can both agree on it being a fine thing.
[That said, it can be quite difficult to find decent cava in the UK. I was talking to a local wine merchant a few years back, and he told me that it was a problem for them because it didn't have the perceived cachet of Champagne, but wasn't anywhere near as cheap as Prosecco, so was a bit of a struggle to sell. People like ourselves looking for that middle ground of quality vs price were relatively few in number.]
There we are, then, I'm another year older. Another year wiser? I'll leave that to others to decide.
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