Bryher
small but special
Shopping
BRYHER is the smallest of Scilly’s five inhabited islands.
You could walk around it in half a day, and yet never spend enough time soaking up the sun on its shell sand beaches and turf-clad cliff-tops. Fewer than a hundred people live here permanently and there is only one road. On Bryher, a traffic jam is when two tractors meet. Consequently there is no pollution and the salty air is a joy to inhale, distilled over 3,000 km of ocean by Atlantic breezes.
From the moment you step ashore, the sea dominates everything. On a sunny day the waters around Bryher are idyllic, a maze of ledges and gull-haunted islets threaded by glittering turquoise channels. One stretch has the most beautiful name in all the islands: the Garden of Maiden Bower. Another is the narrowest strip of Atlantic separating Rushy Bay from the bracken-covered slopes of uninhabited Samson, while on certain days, when the tide runs out and
the sea-light pours across the shining sands, you can walk barefoot to Tresco, more than a kilometre away, without ever wading more than knee-deep. At such times it is hard to believe the change a big storm brings, when Hell Bay seethes like scalded milk and the roaring seas break clean over the outlying rock castles of Mincarlo. But the abiding memories of Bryher are of clear waters and soft white sands, of the breeze in the marram grass, the scent of the gorse on the granite-strewn downs, of sheltered cottages with sub-tropical gardens and pocket-sized fields, and the warm welcome you’ll find everywhere, from the Fraggle Rock bar to the Vine Café and the five-star comforts of the Hell Bay Hotel. What else? Cosy B&Bs, a scenic campsite, boats for hire, Richard Pearce’s gallery, stalls selling homemade fudge and local produce and day trips to all the other islands. But beware. After a week on Bryher you could end up hooked on island life forever.
Text by Brian Jackman
Eating
