We were bound for West Wales to see the beautiful coast, the tranquil countryside but most importantly, puffins. A magical place called Skomer Island is where these black and white creatures prefer to hang out and so we were aiming our sights there.
Getting to Skomer Island is a test of will and commitment. In this day and age, where you can obtain almost anything at the click of a button - concert tickets, holiday flights, clothes to be delivered by 8pm - the method for buying boat tickets to Skomer is refreshingly old-fashioned. But not particularly conducive to lowering the stress levels of a pessimist worrier like me.
To get boat tickets, you have to heave yourself out of bed (or out of a rain-drizzled tent in my case) and get yourself in an actual queue by about seven in the morning. Bearing in mind that the office doesn't open til eight and the boats don't start sailing until 10am, this is quite the effort.
Even once you're in the queue, there's no guarantee that you'll have the opportunity to buy tickets for the day. Firstly, they make a call about 8am as to whether or not the boats will actually run that day. We chose a day in late Spring for optimum Puffin sightings and thought the weather would be pleasant. Wrong. I forgot it was Wales we are talking about and so the wind and rain descended on what could've been a beautiful Spring day.
Nonetheless, we waited in the queue with waterproofs protecting us from the elements and willing the weather app on our phones that showed the rain clearing to be true. It was a nice queue. People were chatty and swapped stories and hopes. We were amongst similar personalities bubbling with excitement to get the chance to buy a Golden Ticket. Only 250 people are allowed to venture onto the island on any one day and so you had to hope that there were still tickets left by the time you got to the till-point. The nerves were palpable in the drizzle-soaked coastal air.
As the rain stopped, we got to the front of the queue and bought our tickets! It was happening!
My pessimism still raged through my mind though. I still felt as though all the puffins would hide as soon as we neared the island. I needn't have worried though. Skomer does not have the reputation for a puffin paradise for nothing.
Even before we stepped onto the island, they were everywhere. The boat, laden with excited twitchers, danced across the white-crested waves and we were joined in the air by swooping puffins. The little black and white bullets were sailing past us to land on the water or head back home to the island. I have to admit that I squeaked with excitement the first few (hundred) times I saw one.
Have you ever seen a puffin? Not in a book or on television. A real life bird. Sitting there in all its painted face glory. No? Well you need to. Yes? Me, too - but let's go see them again! They are incredibly delicate and bold at the same time. They literally look like plastic models sat on a cliff. They are my favourite birds. There I said it. Sorry all you other guys.
One of my main reason for this favouritism is their approach to landing. They look graceful enough whilst flying yet when they land they look like they've forgotten all their training and just go for broke and hope to hit the ground in some fashion. It's that "gotta do it so let's see what happens" aura that they emit that has won my heart. Every time I saw one land I had an involuntary giggle. They bring joy and enthusiasm wherever they are.
I'd better point out here that all my worrying about trying to see a puffin was unnecessary. I though I might be able to see one or two, maybe a couple from afar. I had no idea that they would be everywhere. EVERYWHERE.
We stayed at one edge of a cliff for quite a while as we found a group of about ten or so. They were hanging about, flying off, landing, just generally puffining. It was amazing. Eventually, we continued on our path to a place called The Wick. It was like Grand Central for the puffin colony. Every part of the cliff was covered in puffins or their burrows. They walked across the path like pigeons in a park. I literally didn't know where to look. Every time I looked at one, another landed. And they kept arriving with mouthfuls of sand eels in their beaks. It was astounding. I couldn't keep the smile off my face. The face ache was worth it.
All this talk about puffins and I haven't even talked about the island itself yet. It is ridiculously beautiful. You may have heard me say before that I love an island. Skomer is one of the best. Top five for sure. We picked a great time to go. The ferns were a green that recalled memories of tropical jungles. The bluebells still had life in them and were gradually giving way to Pink Campion, so everywhere you looked was colour.
I cannot begin to put into words how bright and powerful and altogether life-affirming the colours were. They were just so... there. I've never been somewhere so real where I had to strain to keep my eyes open to soak up every single bit of the surroundings.
We walked round the whole island and I would have loved to have done it again. Or at least sat somewhere to watch more of the life of the island. On our final stretch back towards the landing point where the boat was waiting to take us back to reality, we were lucky enough to see an owl hunting in the meadow. It was incredible to watch him gliding not ten feet above the bountiful wild flowers.
He was amazing, but it was not enough to claim my heart. That had already been won by the hundreds of little black and white guys. Yes there were thousands there, and yes it would be difficult to not see one, but every time I saw one, it made my stomach flip in that little way like when you see a dog in a hat or a sign for free cake. Puffins = smiles = happiness. And on Skomer Island, there was happiness everywhere.
Puffin Quest complete.
