Some of my friends and family don't get it, in fact few do! Why on earth do I keep returning to this tiny island off the Scottish coast, staying there for a week at a time, with few people for company and usually coming home smelling slightly high having shared my week with 250,000 seabirds who think nothing of using you for target practice!
The answer is that the island has got under my skin, it's in my blood now. I keep on saying no more but the truth is I get drawn back every year.
Some things have changed in the years I have been visiting. The Bird Observatory, of which I'm a member, provides accommodation in an old disused lighthouse, the Low Light. In recent years it has undergone some serious changes , extended and now provides comparative luxury when I look back to my first visit in a bleak April seven years ago. Since my last visit a coat of paint has been added to the exterior too although it's already showing signs of deterioration in the sometimes incredibly harsh conditions the paintwork has to stand up to.
3 twin bedrooms, kitchen, lounge, boot room, indoor flushing toilet and separate shower might seem like something you'd expect but it hasn't been like that for long. It's essential to conserve water despite new spring fed storage tanks having been installed and although there are solar panels to provide electric lights the water didn't reach sufficient temperature for other than a cold ( and consequently very brief) shower. You have to plan your week carefully to ensure you bring with you all the supplies you might need because once on the island there is is no shop.
In the past I have always applied for two places and been lucky enough to be accommodated. This year I decided to just apply for myself as I realise that demand outstrips supply so I thought why increase it by asking anyone else. However, I was lucky enough to get the exact week I had requested but it might mean sharing with total strangers who I might or might not get on with. That's a chance I was happy to take just to be on my beloved island.
As luck would have it the booking secretary had paired me up with someone I'd met previously on the island several years back so that was a major boost. I knew we'd get on well, and indeed we did, right from the off. We were informed we'd be sharing with two other couples, one natives of France the others, English. My offers to give them any help or tips needed in preparation for their stay were met with the information they had also been many times before. OK, message understood. My suggestion that we might pool our cooking and each prepare a meal on one night were also rejected. Again, fair enough, The reasoning that they preferred to be flexible on when they ate was sound enough for me and it just meant that myself and Mark, my allocated room mate would look after ourselves. It does mean putting a bit more thought into planning 7 meals instead of 1, and also means being prepared not to be able to use the cooking facilities if they were being used by someone else but in fairness it worked out without problem.
Transport over to the island is by a rib boat and space is limited so I am always conscious of what I take but I need a bag for clothes, one for my photo gear and also a large plastic box for food and drink. It weighs a fair bit too. I'd arranged to meet Mark in the local Co-op car park to get last minute supplies and to pool all we were taking in to one car. For the first time ever, we'd been told we'd be leaving from the east pier in Anstruther Harbour. It's a long harbour wall, much too far to carry all the gear but a word with the friendly harbour master got my car through the security gate right to the top of the steps where we expected to load our gear on to the rib. As requested we were there early and as the time ticked by we began to wonder what had happened to our fellow travellers. Then with 15 minutes to departure we spotted some ladies carrying some baggage followed by a chap pulling a loaded trolley. They looked like they were heading to the May but instead of stopping where we were they carried on to the end of the harbour wall, another 50m at least. With our car safely parked in town we now had a major dilemma of how to get our not inconsiderable amount of luggage the extra distance. My opening words to the man pulling the trolley had been something like "You might be the man with a trolley I really need to meet right now' had elicited no reply whatsoever. Mark decided to follow them to make sure we hadn't been mistaken as to who they were.
No we hadn't, and yes we were. In the wrong place. The man with the trolley was returning for his next load, he wasn't even enquiring who we were. Looked like we might be in for an interesting week!
All was not lost though. There was a local fisherman working on his boat and nearby a pick-up truck. I enquired if it was his and explained our dilemma. The truck wasn't his but there was a trailer nearby and he had a tow bar on his saloon car. What a hero! He quickly hitched up the trailer, we loaded the gear and when we were going to walk behind he told us to stand on the A-frame and he'd give us a ride down the harbour wall.
Brilliant. Mark and I proceeded down the harbour wall laughing our heads off like conquering heroes riding a chariot. The man with the trolley raised an eyebrow as we passed him heading for yet another pick up. He must have been knackered!!
We rewarded our new fisherman pal with a couple of cans of lager, precious supplies but worth it for such a grand gesture and then I went to speak to the two ladies who were guarding the deposited luggage. Ah, they were French and didn't speak any English. We later discovered Monsieur found my accent hard to understand too hence the lack of a response when I'd spoken.
Anyway, we were ready to go. Once again heading to the Isle of May. Bring it on!
The answer is that the island has got under my skin, it's in my blood now. I keep on saying no more but the truth is I get drawn back every year.
Some things have changed in the years I have been visiting. The Bird Observatory, of which I'm a member, provides accommodation in an old disused lighthouse, the Low Light. In recent years it has undergone some serious changes , extended and now provides comparative luxury when I look back to my first visit in a bleak April seven years ago. Since my last visit a coat of paint has been added to the exterior too although it's already showing signs of deterioration in the sometimes incredibly harsh conditions the paintwork has to stand up to.
3 twin bedrooms, kitchen, lounge, boot room, indoor flushing toilet and separate shower might seem like something you'd expect but it hasn't been like that for long. It's essential to conserve water despite new spring fed storage tanks having been installed and although there are solar panels to provide electric lights the water didn't reach sufficient temperature for other than a cold ( and consequently very brief) shower. You have to plan your week carefully to ensure you bring with you all the supplies you might need because once on the island there is is no shop.
In the past I have always applied for two places and been lucky enough to be accommodated. This year I decided to just apply for myself as I realise that demand outstrips supply so I thought why increase it by asking anyone else. However, I was lucky enough to get the exact week I had requested but it might mean sharing with total strangers who I might or might not get on with. That's a chance I was happy to take just to be on my beloved island.
As luck would have it the booking secretary had paired me up with someone I'd met previously on the island several years back so that was a major boost. I knew we'd get on well, and indeed we did, right from the off. We were informed we'd be sharing with two other couples, one natives of France the others, English. My offers to give them any help or tips needed in preparation for their stay were met with the information they had also been many times before. OK, message understood. My suggestion that we might pool our cooking and each prepare a meal on one night were also rejected. Again, fair enough, The reasoning that they preferred to be flexible on when they ate was sound enough for me and it just meant that myself and Mark, my allocated room mate would look after ourselves. It does mean putting a bit more thought into planning 7 meals instead of 1, and also means being prepared not to be able to use the cooking facilities if they were being used by someone else but in fairness it worked out without problem.
Transport over to the island is by a rib boat and space is limited so I am always conscious of what I take but I need a bag for clothes, one for my photo gear and also a large plastic box for food and drink. It weighs a fair bit too. I'd arranged to meet Mark in the local Co-op car park to get last minute supplies and to pool all we were taking in to one car. For the first time ever, we'd been told we'd be leaving from the east pier in Anstruther Harbour. It's a long harbour wall, much too far to carry all the gear but a word with the friendly harbour master got my car through the security gate right to the top of the steps where we expected to load our gear on to the rib. As requested we were there early and as the time ticked by we began to wonder what had happened to our fellow travellers. Then with 15 minutes to departure we spotted some ladies carrying some baggage followed by a chap pulling a loaded trolley. They looked like they were heading to the May but instead of stopping where we were they carried on to the end of the harbour wall, another 50m at least. With our car safely parked in town we now had a major dilemma of how to get our not inconsiderable amount of luggage the extra distance. My opening words to the man pulling the trolley had been something like "You might be the man with a trolley I really need to meet right now' had elicited no reply whatsoever. Mark decided to follow them to make sure we hadn't been mistaken as to who they were.
No we hadn't, and yes we were. In the wrong place. The man with the trolley was returning for his next load, he wasn't even enquiring who we were. Looked like we might be in for an interesting week!
All was not lost though. There was a local fisherman working on his boat and nearby a pick-up truck. I enquired if it was his and explained our dilemma. The truck wasn't his but there was a trailer nearby and he had a tow bar on his saloon car. What a hero! He quickly hitched up the trailer, we loaded the gear and when we were going to walk behind he told us to stand on the A-frame and he'd give us a ride down the harbour wall.
Brilliant. Mark and I proceeded down the harbour wall laughing our heads off like conquering heroes riding a chariot. The man with the trolley raised an eyebrow as we passed him heading for yet another pick up. He must have been knackered!!
We rewarded our new fisherman pal with a couple of cans of lager, precious supplies but worth it for such a grand gesture and then I went to speak to the two ladies who were guarding the deposited luggage. Ah, they were French and didn't speak any English. We later discovered Monsieur found my accent hard to understand too hence the lack of a response when I'd spoken.
Anyway, we were ready to go. Once again heading to the Isle of May. Bring it on!
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