The Isles of Scilly : $b Their story, their folk & their flowersMothersole, Jessie
History
The Isles of Scilly : $b Their story, their folk & their flowers
Mothersole, Jessie
Isles of Scilly (England) -- Description and travel
In the summer there are cheap day-excursions from the mainland, and
crowds of trippers arrive at St. Mary’s by steamer to spend a few
hours on the islands. Some of them land in such a woebegone condition
that they are fit for nothing but to lie about on the benches in the
“Park” until the hoot of the steamer rouses them to crawl back to the
quay. Others, more courageous in spite of having had a “sick transit,”
will only stop to snatch a morsel of food before rushing off to the
steam-launch for Tresco, where they will make the round of the famous
gardens, walk perhaps to Cromwell’s Castle, and return to St. Mary’s
dead-beat, just in time to go on board for the homeward journey. And
they call that a day’s holiday! But these are not the visitors to
bring grist to the boatman’s mill. The kind he wants are those who
come to stay, those who come again year after year, and who delight in
sailing about amongst the islands and learning to know and love them
well. They do not come looking for “Entertainments,” with a capital E.
They are quite content with the magical music of the wind and the
waves, and with the natural beauties that surround them on every side.
These visitors are neither so many nor of such a kind as to take away
from the peaceful charm of the place. You can always get peace and
quiet in Scilly, even in the most “tripperish” season, for the
trippers follow a beaten track which it is easy enough to avoid. And
the islands are, fortunately, quite unspoilt by any efforts to cater
for their supposed wants. Not a single penny-in-the-slot machine
flaunts its vermilion and yellow in your face; there are no niggers on
the beach, nor brass bands, nor cinematographs; no dancing on the
pier; no “marine parades” or “esplanades”; above all, here are no
artificial “natural attractions” (most hateful of paradoxes), no
manufactured show-places to pander to perverted taste. If you come
hoping for these things, you will go away (and the sooner the better
for all concerned) disappointed. You would only be an alien in this
little Paradise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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