The Scilly Isles have been on my wish list for years – but never very near the top. There were always more exotic destinations waiting to be experienced. And when push came to shove I assumed it was just like Cornwall, only harder to get to, so what was the point?

Eventually, however, a couple of friends who holiday there regularly persuaded us to join them for ten days. And now I’m a complete convert.

All aboard

I was right about the journey. The Scillies are 28 miles off Land’s End and you can fly from Newquay, Exeter or Land’s End itself. But the planes are small (8 and 19-seaters), don’t fly in bad weather (!), seats sell out (especially at peak season and weekends), you can only take 15kg of luggage and you could be in Rome, Gran Canaria or Cyprus at less than half the price.

There’s a daily boat from March to November, but a return costs £86, there’s a 25kg luggage limit and if you’re susceptible to seasickness it could be an unpleasant 2 hours 45 minutes. Personally I found this little voyage, under sunny skies both ways, added to the sense of adventure.

Pause, rewind, double-take

Once we arrived, was it worth the effort and expense? Definitely. The Scillies are like a lot of other places – and yet subtly different. As I wandered around I kept having these sudden “episodes” where I felt that something “wasn’t quite right”. A view so amazing that I was stopped in my tracks by the sense that “this place is too good to be true”. A moment that I didn’t question at the time, but which had me asking myself “did that really happen?”

Remember the film “The Truman Show” where Jim Carey is trapped in a perfect world that is in fact the set of a reality TV show? It was like that, except everything had been designed by a team of art directors from Coast Magazine, Country Living and the Jamie Oliver cook books. Things were just so right that they were slightly “off” – but in good way that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

The lounge at Mincarlo B&B - quintessential Coast

Fantasy islands?

First of all there’s the physical landscape. It’s just too picturesque. You’re on an archipelago of five inhabited islands, about fifty five smaller islets and around ninety jagged rocks. They’re all packed very close together, with beaches of powdery white sand, fantastically shaped granite cliffs and tors, low lying hills covered in bracken, heather, woodlands, tiny fields and a patchwork of cottages and gardens.

Then there’s the water. It’s incredibly clear. What’s more, the channels between the islands are so shallow that when the tides are very low in spring and autumn you can wade from one to another (originally there was one larger island but rising sea levels after the ice age meant that the water covered the lower lying areas, creating a mass of smaller ones).

With the tide out there are miles of beautiful sand bars exposed. When it is in, the water is a dazzling mix of turquoises and emeralds as the sunshine is reflected back from the silvery sands on the seabed. The land looks very British but the beaches and waters are straight from brochures of the Caribbean or Maldives. In every direction there are views that are so picture postcard perfect, especially when you add in the boats, the lighthouses, the harbours, the seabirds and the seals, that you think it must have been assembled by a team from Disney working on some kind of “Islands in your Dreams” concept.

Observe the speed limit

For the first week I felt disorientated, but in a way I just couldn’t fathom. It was like everything around me was happening in some kind of slow motion and I was struggling to get in synch with it. Gradually it dawned on me. No cars (and virtually no roads).

That’s not strictly true, as there are a few cars in Hugh Town, on the main island of St Mary’s (population about 1,600). On Bryher (population about 90), where we stayed for a week, there’s a couple of tractors and a few golf buggies, but that’s about it. I remember seeing a car on St Martins (population about 140). Consider that sentence - when is seeing a car so remarkable that you remember it?

Schedule changes daily (depending on tides)

This means that everything happens at walking pace. Or at about 10 knots – the speed of the ferries that criss-cross between the islands. The daily schedule runs around those ferries, which in turn have to work around the tides (when the water is low the ferries simply can’t reach some of the slipways). The islands have a rhythm that’s entirely their own. And you just get drawn into it.

Also, it’s such a pleasure to amble around without fear of being run down by a banker in a huge 4x4 who sees you as one up from a road bump or a traffic bollard. No exhaust fumes. No rumble of traffic. No car parks. Only when you remove these things do you actually notice how intrusive they are.

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside

For the first three days we stayed at Mincarlo, a delightful B&B in Hugh Town. It was so totally nouveau seaside and coastal chic, with pastel blues throughout, model boats and charts, shells and seascapes, nautical paraphernalia, buckets, spades and shrimping nets, plus a barometer in the hallway.

The breakfast, served in sunny room with a big bay window looking over the harbour, was an absolute treat. The menu blackboard included fried bread, black pudding, hogs pudding, French toast with cinnamon and maple syrup, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs and porridge on request. The most English of English breakfasts.

While you were tucking into this feast a strange ceremony took place every morning. A man entered the breakfast room, the chatter of conversation died, and all eyes were turned upon his beaming round face. He then announced, with much good natured pomp, the ferry schedule for that day, including what slipways and quaysides were being used for departures, arrivals and return journeys. He also outlined the day’s special excursions (seal watching around the Eastern Isles, a trip to Bishops Rock lighthouse to see the most notorious shipwreck sites and the puffins, as well as an evening cruise to watch the gig racing). This oration was rounded off, of course, by the weather forecast.

You won’t miss the things that are missing

The fact that you are on one of several relatively inaccessible islands means that cars are not the only thing there’s less of.

The west coast of Bryher (all to ourselves)

People are relatively few and far between. You can have huge stretches of stunning beach to yourself and even the most popular are far from busy. I spent hours fishing and had the whole north end of Bryher entirely to myself for most of the time. What’s more, people have to travel light – with no Range Rovers or Porshe Cayennes you don’t get beaches and campsites buried under piles of must-haves like tents the size of small houses, portable generators, mini-fridges, gas barbecues, elaborate sun loungers and the rest.

There’s a CO-OP in Hugh Town, as well as a butcher and a deli, Bryher has a store selling the basics, as does Tresco, but St Martins only has a little bakery and St Agnes no shop at all. If you want rooibos tea, sun dried tomatoes, or your favourite brand of mango pickle then you’ll probably need to bring them with you. Tesco on the mainland sells 254 types of breakfast cereal, but who needs so many? I found the relative simplicity of limited choice hugely liberating.

Chilled out, laid back

Of course there’s a range of accommodation and pubs, restaurants and cafes. But rather less than the demand – rooms and cottages need to be booked very early and if you just bowl up at an eatery expecting a meal you’ll probably go hungry. Tourism is obviously vital – it represents 85% of the local economy and employs more than 70% of the islands' population. But it’s far from over-developed.

There are no big hotels, no KFC or McDonalds, no Eden Project, no Tate gallery, no wind farms, no Rick Stein, no Jamie Oliver. Tresco, with its wonderful gardens, may be on the Val d’Isere, Provence and Tuscany orbit favoured by City financial and legal types. Thankfully, however, the rest of the Scilly Isles have yet to become Islington, Notting Hill and South Kensington on sea. Undoubtedly there are some very well-heeled visitors, with kids called Auberon and Lucretia, but so far they have failed to buy up properties en-masse, drive out the locals, and turn the place into a Rock, Salcombe or Kingswear.

This is partly a result of the fact that the Duchy of Cornwall owns most of the land and nearly a third of the residential buildings on the islands. Alongside this the locals seem comfortably laid back. The pub on Bryher shuts at 9.00pm and some tea shops close on a Saturday – the locals are friendly, but they are not going to exert themselves for a few extra quid. It’s so refreshing to be in a place where money is not driving everyone to distraction – there are other things the locals seem to value more.

Many of the vegetables are home grown with little stalls at the garden gate, plus an honesty box. We met a French couple who came ashore off a small yacht, made friends, and went aboard to enjoy their well-stocked wine locker. They were amazed at the honesty box idea. “Not in France!” they exclaimed with an expressive shrug and shake of the head. The stall next to our cottage had a little sign reading “LOBSTERS + CRABS FOR SALE. If possible 24 hour notice”. At the far end of the island (a ten minute walk away) a couple have built a wood fired pizza oven in their front garden and bake them to order on Monday and Friday nights.

Welcome to the Scilly side of things

Life here is parochial, almost innocent. When the local constabulary advertised a job earlier this year it was described as ''quite possibly the most enviable policing post in the UK or even the world''.

There is some crime, but it is often rather comical - the constabulary’s Facebook page is always an entertaining read. We witnessed the end of one incident when a group of stag-do revellers boarded the ferry to the mainland. The groom had earlier been served with a £90 fixed penalty notice when he removed his Hawaiian grass skirt at midday in the High Street, leaving himself naked apart from a pair of flip flops and plastic flowers around his neck. As Sgt Colin Taylor writes “for the first time in my career I actually had to resort to using my helmet to preserve the modesty of the groom as I led him away from public view.” Comments were equally hilarious: “walked right into this fracas this afternoon and was very impressed how you 'handled' the situation!” Tracey Weisner.

Entente cordiale - drinks with new found friends from France

The Scilly Today website, partnered with Scilly Radio, is a great barometer of local life. Hot stories include “Rare Fungus discovered on St Agnes”, “Roaring Success For First Scilly Laughs Festival”, “Open Gardens Postponed Until Monday” and “Islands’ Vet Baffled Over Stray Cat Poster”. If you are looking for excitement then there’s lots to be found on the main island, St Mary’s: line dancing in the town hall, quiz night at the Scillonian Working Men’s Club, “Wildlife on Scilly” slideshows in the church hall, plenty of charity coffee mornings and occasional live music in some of the pubs.

Last word

Now that Travel & Tourism has become a global industry thousands of resorts and destinations are competing for their share of the market. The Scillies don’t have to try too hard. And they aren’t.

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