Whatʼs not to like when an island has a row of posts with stones on the top of them, the "Hellipics" rings made out of beach flotsam, and a café-bar called the Fraggle Rock that takes it in turn with the islandʼs other café to serve food, depending where the chief is working that day.
Bryher (homophonic with briar as in roses) is, as you may have gathered, a bit eccentric. The evil empire over the water in Tresco seems to be trying to extend its influence, having taken over a number of self-catering cottages, but for the moment Bryher seems to be holding its own.
The centre of the island is fairly flat, with low hills to the south. To the north however the cliffs rise and there is some fine walking around the evocatively named Hell Bay to the equally evocatively named Badplace Hill.
From there, there are views across to Shipman Head which is linked to the rest of Bryher by a narrow rocky neck of land.
Despite the dead calm almost Caribbean blue seas and bright sunshine, it was easy to imagine a sailing ship of old, battling a westerly gale, trying desperately to get round the headland into the safety of New Grimsby Sound, failing, and getting blown on to the rocks in Hell Bay.