Life has gone strangely quiet. Not silent - definitely not silent. But here in mid-June, there’s a certain stillness that follows the rush of the two months that came before. The hostel that I run isn’t quite empty, but the stream of large groups swapping places with each other in the space of four hours that we’d grown accustomed to has lessened itself to smaller groups of friends and solo travellers. The laundry isn’t reaching the ceiling. The kitchen has stayed clean for longer than ten minutes. There’s even space in the fridge for me to pop my packed lunch inside.

It’s the lull. The summer pause, when bookings thin out just enough to catch your breath, but not quite enough to pretend it’s time off. When I first told people I was moving to an island, I think they believed this would be the norm. Endless time to climb the hills and knit cardigans and bake bread.

The reality, however, is that the hills and hikes I talk about so fondly are something I don’t get to experience often at all. I spend 90% of my time in the village, only venturing out onto the reserve once a month to take readings of our night sky, and the odd time for a breather during a rare few hours of freedom.

So what do we do when this elusive “free time” finds us in June? The list is as long as my arm. And the theme is........

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