I was brought up in the West Riding of Yorkshire, near Halifax - real Brontë country, up on the moors. But my father was born and brought up in Pwllheli and I've just recently found out that my grandmother was also brought up there.

I did know a little Welsh before I came - well, three words my grandmother used to say - 'gwely' (bed), 'cariad' (love) and 'cysgu' (sleep). I have learnt Welsh since - well, I definitely understand what people are saying, even if I do sometimes answer in English. I've just begun to really read in Welsh, though I don't write in Welsh yet.

I hadn't been to Pwllheli until my father died. At that time, I had two younger siblings and a mother who was ill, so I felt it was my responsibility to take care of the family. My mother saw an ad for a teacher Pwllheli and I applied just to please her, and because it was where daddy was from - but I was very surprised when I got the job.

Pwllheli seemed very small - it was at least two or three years behind in things like fashion, and the children were so much more polite and respectful than those in North London. The parents in Wales have a greater interest and respect for education, and I was hailed as 'the English teacher from London' - very dramatic!

I only intended to stay for a couple of years. I had a place as a volunteer overseas, but put it on hold for two years to help my family. By the time I should have taken up that job, I was married.

I'd visited Bardsey Island and met my husband, Ernest Evans, the son of a farmer. He's able to trace his family on the island back to 1770 - he was the last child to be educated in the island's school. His father was Wil Evans, or Wil Tŷ Pella. Ernest is a fisherman and boat builder, as is our son Colin.

I've lived in Aberdaron or on Bardsey ever since, although I've never spent a whole year on the island. For my husband especially, the idea of living without central heating, television, running water and a telephone during the winter isn't good! Even now, we have to either walk up to the top of the highest hill to get a signal or access a mobile phone from the mobile unit up on the mountain, with a long cable coming down to the house.

We get our energy from generators connected to solar power - so if it isn't sunny, we might run out. We're hoping to get wind-powered generators, but that would need planning permission.

We don't yet have email on the island either - does anyone out there have any ideas how we could do it? It would be great to get broadband, especially for the four-year-old son of the bird warden. We don't have a complete or constant power supply or a reliable telephone line, but we'd love internet access!

You have to be very organised to live on the island. I've got quite a productive vegetable garden and there is a farm on the island, but we don't do things like make our own butter like Ernest's mother used to.

You have to do a big shop for things like tea, coffee, sugar, orange juice, although things have got easier these days with things in big packs and dehydrated goods.

We have been caught out by the weather a lot. The first time it happened in the 1960s, the only means of communicating with the mainland was via the lighthouse, when it used to be manned. You had to send telegrams over the radio telegraph - I never lived it down when I had to send a telegram to school twice because I was delayed. I don't think they minded too much and the pupils thought it was great.

We always leave about the end of October when the fishing season comes to an end, and go to our house at Uwch Mynydd, Aberdaron. We have to come back to the mainland for our winter jobs - I used to do a bit of teaching in the winter, although I've retired now. I do poetry readings and creative writing classes though.

Aberdaron in the winter is quieter than being on the island during the summer. There are seven farms or cottages on the island for visitors and some people return every year. As they're on holiday, they always pop in for a tea or some elderflower cordial ,so it's very busy. It's like having an extended family.