It was with red eyes that I finally eased my little car up the long winding hill out of Woolacombe. I'd like to blame my bleary eyes on my friends for sending me off in style the night before, but really I knew that I'd been touched by sadness for leaving a place with so many good memories.
My nostalgia evaporated soon enough as I focused on nursing my overladen car along the slow lane of the M5. As I crossed the Severn Bridge into Wales, the sun pierced the cloud and lit my path. I groped for my sunglasses and decided it was time for a coffee.
I'd planned to stay at a friends house near Swansea for a night before heading over to Pembrokeshire for the final leg of my journey, a short boat ride to Skomer Island. As I was queuing for an overpriced but overdue Costa coffee my phone rang. It was Eddie, one of the island wardens.
He casually explained that the Trust's boat was still being repaired and might not be ready by Tuesday. However, by the time it might be fixed a windy weather system was on its way that might create a sea state too dangerous for any trips to the island. I might be marooned on the mainland for as long as a week.
After all the stresses and worries of packing and moving I thought I took this all quite well. At least I'd be able to go to the Trusts' offices and meet some other staff, do some shopping for the island, catch up with old friends in Aberystwyth and maybe squeeze in another surf.
But really all I wanted to do was get to Skomer and start working before the first guests arrive...
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