Yorkshire to the Isles of Scilly
- Apr 24
- 5 min read
March 2026
Not only did our friends Tansy and Pete invite us to stay with them on Tresco but Tansy has also agreed to co-write a blog with me as she did the journeying by train.
Train to the islands, Tansy Hepton
Amanda wanted to write about the Isles of Scilly but didn’t think she could break her own rules, so I decided to give her a way in, as we did travel there by train (mostly). Living in Yorkshire, it’s normally an eight hour drive but this year we detoured to London for dinner with our son (and a brief sit down at The Wild Table of Love, a participative and quirky sculpture by Gillie and Marc, currently sited at Eastbourne Terrace, Paddington until July 2026).
Wakefield to London was ordinary but the sleeper from Paddington to Penzance was a different matter altogether. Boarding soon after 11pm, we squeezed into our bunk bed berth, relieved that our bags fitted under the lower bunk/seat as the “wardrobe” turned out to be a door against the wall, containing a single hook/hanger.
After a night cap in the train bar (how civilised), we pulled out of the station at what felt a sedate pace - we had only 250 miles to go and eight hours to do it in. Did we park up somewhere or just crawl along? Probably a bit of both, as the lullaby rocking motion came and went. By the time it was getting light I noticed the change in tempo as we crossed the Tamar over the impressive Isambard Kingdom Brunel bridge and raised the blind to immerse myself in the Cornish landscape of green fields, yellow gorse, granite towns, sweeping viaducts and deserted station platforms. Further into West Cornwall trees lay higgledy-piggledy by the tracks, the devastating after-effects of Storm Goretti.
Night train at Paddington, the cabin, early morning St Michael's Mount, view of Tresco from the air, Goretti damage Photos copyright Pete Belsey.
A hop and a skip along the seafront from Penzance to the heliport and 20 minutes of clatter later, we were there. Tresco lost over 500 trees in the storm but the estate team are remarkably positive about the potential for change and growth, with ideas for introducing different trees, groves and art. Nature has a way of repairing itself, and of repairing our broken spirits. A week in the islands, picking up pebbles on the beach, sitting on a lichen-draped bench amongst the tropical flowers, living life according to the tides, is balm for the soul.
Amanda's account
Our journey to Tresco was rather different. Neither Tony nor I had wanted to travel by the Scillonian to St Mary's; Tony because he was sick on it many years ago and me because I had heard too many vomitty tales that the thought of a crossing in late March was not appealing. So we booked on the Skybus from Lands End. However, the day before we were due to fly, we were warned of poor visibility but to still to get there early the next morning to see what was possible. The mist and murk grew greyer and denser the nearer we got to the airport.
'No planes flying out today ...'
We were a very silent group who got on the coach back to Penzance. The driver tried to gee us up as we approached the harbour but couldn't quite bring himself to wish us a pleasant journey ... Everyone shares a complicit grimace when the crossing is mentioned as it is notorious. We had no choice: take the boat or stay home. This is also the last season the Scillonian 3 will be in service as a brand new boat will start next year. It had to be done.
We dosed ourselves with 'Quels' and I planned to stay on deck for the whole two and three quarter hour crossing as although foggy, it was neither cold nor raining.
Without exaggeration, I can honestly say that I loved every minute of it (and Tony too was pleasantly surprised). The eerie Cornish coastline and Wolf Rock lighthouse, travelling alongside flocks of gannets and terns, being on the ocean, the sudden breaching of a dolphin right by me, then the islands emerging from the mist and docking at the small but perfectly formed harbour at St Mary's. Our friends met us on the quay where the gigs were already being unloaded for the Championships in May. Having worked up a hunger, we went and ate huge, delicious falafel wraps on Porthcressa Beach before taking the boat to Tresco.
As Tansy has said Tresco was beaten but not cowed by Storm Goretti. The shelter belt did protect the luscious gardens in the main. We all went on a walk and talk with the estate manager about plans for the future. Having arrived rather despondent and lamenting individual trees and paths, we left excited for future possibilities. Probably fewer huge Monterey Pines and more wind resistant trees. That said I fell for the wonderful Norfolk pines but also the South African Silver Tree (picture above). The garden never fails to enchant with its lush exotica.
Tresco Abbey Garden, Drawing of Garden by Tony, Top of Tresco, Oyster catchers. Photos copyright Pete Belsey
Tresco is beautiful but it has been tamed. Each inhabited island has a different atmosphere and character. So on Sunday, we took a fast boat to St Agnes and Gugh. On the way back there was so much swell that we were being bounced out of our seats, having been advised to sit indoors - great fun! St Agnes feels wilder, less populated, more wind stripped. So many rocky outcrops look like they have been sculpted by the wind: the Old Man of Gugh, a horse and elephant. Pre-historic burial chambers lie open to the wind. In the centre of Gugh, sturdy black-backed gulls have taken up residency in their hundreds to breed now that the islands' council has eradicated the rats. In the shelter of the Turks Head, we read of the Gugh Island stamp issue. Gugh has two houses, so maybe a population of four and is only accessible at low tide across a causeway ... and it had its own stamps.
While we were staying there was a full moon which brought a very low tide. This meant that we could walk from Tresco to Bryher across the sandbar. We got about half way across before needing to take off our boots and wade ankle deep. It was a cold but thrilling experience followed by crab sandwiches and a stomp round the island. We admired the beautiful stained glass windows in the church by Oriel Hicks before taking the ferry back to Tresco.
On our final day, we spent some time on St Mary's and wandered through the flower-filled pathways to Old Town. We paid homage to former prime minister Harold Wilson and his wife Mary who both loved Scilly. Then caught the Skybus home. Fifteen minute flight and two minutes to retrieve luggage and stow in our car.
What a week with wonderful seascapes, rock formations, views, walks, food and friendship.
Tansy recently had a short piece published in 'The Kindness of Strangers': a selection of entries to the 2026 Bradt Guides New Travel Writer of the Year competition 2026. www.bradtguides.com
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