In every pub quiz I’ve ever taken part in, it has always ended in a resounding loss.

I’ll go in confident, fuelled by a mediocre general knowledge and a few glasses of something strong, and armed with a team name I’d spent far too long coming up with. And as with any pub quiz, it’s the team that ultimately makes or breaks the game.

I couldn’t understand, therefore, why I was always losing. And badly. My friends in Glasgow are some of the smartest people I know, and yet our names were always one of the first to be read out in the results.

But this week, everything changed. I won.

The boats were cancelled, again. (Are we sensing a theme for this month, perhaps?) We had more than a dozen stranded guests staying at the hostel, and with no boats coming and nowhere for anyone to go, the community did what it tends to do here when plans are disrupted: we made our own entertainment.

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There was a ‘ping’ in our island WhatsApp chat: “Anyone fancy a quiz? 6pm in the village hall?”

My little family of three, of course, was a few minutes........

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