We started in the dark at Paddington and arrived to the sun shining in Cornwall. The overnight train took eight hours to get to Penzance. It was a noisy, rocky trip. The train shunted from time-to-time, rolled and tilted according to the tracks while I drifted in and out of sleep. The end destination - St Mary’s - was 28 miles away and we would need a ferry to get there.

We awoke the next morning to a knock at the door and was presented with our tea and singular croissant which I discarded on the account that it was too early in the morning for me to eat anything. We made our way to the ferry terminal, our luggage rolling noisily behind us and waited for the boat to collect us.

I knew the Isle of Scilly was part of the UK and was somewhere over to the west of England but never thought of it as a holiday destination. I suggested a holiday for myself, mum and brother as we hadn’t been away for a while. The Isle of Scilly came up in conversation at work and after a quick Google, booked the tickets and away we went.

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