Category: Scotland

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Shetland Finale – Bigton Shepard’s Hut, St. Ninian’s Isle and Tombolo, Ness of Burgi, Old Scatness, Jarlshof Archaeological Site, Sumburgh Head and Lighthouse

On my last morning in Lerwick I woke to a very gray and wet morning, with a heavy and steady downpour of rain that reminded me of November in Vancouver. I had planned to take an early bus to Bigton, drop off my backpack until check-in time, and then finally see and walk across the beautiful sand tombolo that connects St. Ninian’s Isle to Shetland’s South Mainland. I had first seen a photo of that tombolo many years ago and had often visualized myself there. It is one of Shetland’s most spectacular natural sights and is well-known to fans of the crime drama “Shetland” as it features in the intro. My three night stay in a Shepard’s Hut, in the small village of Bigton above the tombolo, was to be the grand finale of my trip to the Northern Isles.

There was no point in taking the early bus, as I had planned, because I would be outside in that rain for hours before I could access my accommodation. Luckily, I was at the wonderful Isleburgh Hostel, so even though I had checked out of my room I was able to use the facilities all day. I worked on my blog, looked at the rain, read in the lounge, looked at the rain, cooked up a hot lunch, looked at the rain, etc. etc. Finally it was 4 p.m. and time to take the late bus south. I put on my rain gear, hoisted my pack onto my back, juggled two bags filled with three days’ worth of groceries, and managed to raise and hold my umbrella for my wet and windy wait at the bus stop. Disappointingly, there was little to see as the bus travelled south because the windows were as fogged and grey as the hills we passed. But then the rain started to ease up as I transferred from the main north/south bus to the local feeder bus that would take me the last few miles to the village. And, in that two miles, the sky magically cleared and the sun shone! The travel gods were on my side! The bus driver let me off directly in front of my shepard’s hut and here it is!

I spoke with my kind and welcoming hostess for a short while and then immediately headed out to visit the tombolo and St. Ninian’s Isle while the weather was fair. After just a few minutes of walking, this was my view looking down onto the sandy tombolo which links St. Ninian’s Isle to Shetland’s South Mainland. Wow!

I descended the hill,

and stepped out onto the long stretch of the pale golden sand.

I turned to walk beside the sea along the northern edge of the tombolo, drawn by the mesmerizing colour of the water,

and later I crossed to walk along the southern edge of the tombolo for equally stunning views.

I took my time on the beach and revelled in the brightness of the sky, the rain-washed coolness and clarity of the air, and the sight and sound of the waves. Then, I reached St. Ninian’s Isle and rose up onto the dune for stunning views back down over the tombolo.

I began my clockwise walk around St. Ninian’s Isle (a distance of about 6 km) by first heading south to dramatic views of craggy off-shore islets, and spectacular views back towards the tombolo. The trail then turned west towards the brightness of the lowering sun.

The clifftop walk along the ruggedly indented western coast of the island was exhilarating and I didn’t see another human soul. Perfection!

Later, the trail left the cliff edge and rose gradually up to the northern tip of the island where a cairn marked the high point of the cliffs.

Then, the trail turned south to follow the gentler eastern side of the island, with the tombolo once again coming into view as I walked.

Soon I reached the ruins of St. Ninian’s chapel. These ruins date from the 1300s, but records show that a church stood on this important pilgrimage site centuries earlier. In 1958, archaeologists found a horde of 8th century silver metalwork buried here. The treasure trove of 28 items included beautiful silver bowls and elaborately designed Pictish brooches.

I walked around the site, in the golden light of early evening, and absorbed the quiet of this place.

Then I slowly returned to the tombolo, crossed its beautiful expanse, and then climbed up to the town and to my shepard’s hut where I sat on its front steps and watched the sun sink into the sea.

It was a perfect end to my first day in South Mainland, Shetland.

The following day dawned cloudy and gray, with the threat of rain heavy in the air, and I wondered if I should just stay snuggled in bed in my cozy Shepard’s hut all day. But, there were sights to see so after a quick coffee and breakfast I bundled up and began my two mile walk out of Bigton, heading towards the main road to catch a bus to Sumburgh where I would visit several archaeological sites. Ten minutes later, I was halfway up the steep hill out of Bigton when a fellow who works at the airport in Sumburgh stopped to offer a ride. Yes, thank you! He made a quick stop above Rerwick Beach so that I could see seals resting on the sands below,

and then he dropped me off at the starting point for the easy three kilometre hike out to the Ness of Burgi. The walk led across fields, and later across a rocky section,

to arrive at the end of a narrow promontory and the site of a 2000 year old Iron Age blockhouse. The setting was dramatic, with the sea on three sides and with views of Sumburgh Head and its lighthouse in the distance across the bay.

This style of defensive fort is one of only three found in Shetland. It was exciting to crawl through the low doorway to enter the central passage, and then through other tunnel-like passages to peek into the separate rooms.

The blockhouse was defended on the landward side by a rampart and ditches. This is the view from the blockhouse looking back along the long narrow promontory towards South Mainland.

I enjoyed the walk back and then made my way to the Old Scatness Broch and Iron Age Village archaeological site which can only be viewed on a guided tour. The large site lay buried for over a millennium until it was discovered in 1975 when a road was being built. An archeologist led us through multiple ruins on the site and explained the characteristics of various building styles as they evolved over time from the early Iron Age through to Pictish, medieval, and Viking constructions.

It was a fascinating tour, and afterwards there was the opportunity to visit reconstructions of a Pictish roundhouse and a roofless wheelhouse that were built using traditional techniques and tools. Walking into and through these spaces helped to bring shape and meaning to the ruins we had explored.

My next destination for the day was intended to be a walk along the white sand beach at the head of the Bay of Quendale, and a visit to the Quendale Water Mill, but the rain had finally decided to fall, fast and cold, just as I finished my tour of Old Scatness. Hmmm, suddenly the thought of my warm and dry Shepard’s Hut was very appealing indeed, and the nearby bus stop was tantalizingly close, while the beach was far, so the decision was not overly hard to make. Thankfully the wait for the bus was short as the wind picked up and the rain now lashed at me at an angle. The bus heroically transported me north, but there was still the two mile walk to the village to make, and the rain and wind had continued to increase rather than lessen. But, after only about five minutes of walking, a woman driving by stopped and offered me a ride! Yes, thank you! I apologized for all of the water that I brought into her car on my person, but she waved it off as unimportant. So kind. She dropped me off at my Shepard’s Hut and I spent the rest of the day with the heater on high, reading, writing and occasionally nodding off to the sound of the wind and the rain outside.

The next day (you guessed it), dawned cloudy, wet, windy and gray. This time it was my kind hostess who provided a ride south to Sumburgh where I planned to explore the Jarlshof Prehistoric and Norse Settlement and then walk to the lighthouse at Sumburgh Head. Here is the view of the lighthouse, zoomed in, as I approached the entrance to Jarlshof,

and here is the view across the bay to the Ness of Burgi that I had visited the previous day.

The must-see Jarlshof site encompasses ruins from more than 4000 years of settlement, from the early Neolithic, through to oval-shaped Bronze Age houses,

to an Iron Age broch and wheelhouses,

to Viking long houses,

and up to medieval farmsteads and a large laird’s house that dates from the 1500s.

The site is dramatically situated and beautiful, and the complex ruins are very-well explained in the excellent audio guide, but I had trouble taking it all in. The wind was so biting and the rain so heavy that I had to retreat to the Visitors Centre to dry off and try to regain some energy. I sat and watched a short film, viewed the artefacts and information panels, and watched the short film again. My brain was foggy, and much as I wanted to return to the exterior site and learn all of the details of all of the ruins, I also just wanted to go home to my Shepard’s Hut. I rested a while longer and considered my options. Finally, the rain eased up a bit so I decided to abandon Jarlshoff (I hope to visit again one day), but to continue with my plan to walk to the lighthouse at the end of Sumburgh Head.

The walk was wonderful! The wind still whipped and the rain still fell but my mind cleared and was free to focus on the sounds of the waves and the plaintive call of gulls. I was grateful to be moving, and the gradual climb up to the lighthouse, including up and over several stiles, warmed my body and made me happy.

The Sumburg Lighthouse Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve provides information about the history of the Sumburgh Head and its lighthouse, and visitors can tour the Engine Room, Radar Hut, and a Marine Life Centre.

But, the best part of the lighthouse, for me on this day, was the Observatory, a glass-walled cafe-with-a-view (located on the right in the top left photo). Coffee! Cake! View! It was such a welcome respite from the elements and now I was very happy indeed.

After my rest in the cafe I set out on the return walk to the nearest bus stop, about forty minutes away, but first I made a stop at the clifftop birding hut where many puffins can often be seen. Today I saw only four, one of whom seemed also be feeling a bit put out by the weather!

The walk to the bus stop, downhill along the road, seemed long, but the chilly wait at the stop was made more pleasant by the presence of several other walkers dressed in rain gear, with one of them handing out ginger biscuits to all of us. It was my last full day in Shetland and I was feeling quite melancholy as I rode the bus north and then alighted at the junction with my road to Bigton. There was no feeder bus scheduled today and so I began the two mile walk but luckily the rain was beginning to ease. As I walked, I began to notice the sound of a hidden stream that flowed next to the roadside. Grasses waved in the wind, and bright pink clover blossoms, ragged robin, and purple heather caught my attention and cheered me immensely.

Then, as I descended the long hill and neared the village, a curlew rose from a meadowy field and took to the air to complain of my presence near her nest. I hadn’t seen one in a while and I smiled as I watched her circle over the road in front of me and back again to the field. Her noisy flight connected me to all of the curlews that I had encountered on so many walks all around Orkney and Shetland. And to the terns, and oyster catchers, gannets and puffins. To beaches and clifftops and windy, wet, wonderful days full of archaeology and history.

As I reached the village, the rain finally stopped and the sky magically started to clear, just as it had done on the day of my arrival in Bigton. I felt tired, but I knew that I had to visit the tombolo and St. Ninian’s Isle again before retreating to my abode. What a place!

It was, again, the perfect end to my day, my last full day in Shetland, and a proper finale to my five-week visit to the Northern Isles. Thank you, Shetland and Orkney, for a truly memorable visit, and thank you to my readers for joining me on this journey.

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

A Return to Lerwick, and the Noss National Nature Reserve by Sea and on Foot – Isleburgh Hostel, Seabirds and Seals Boat Trip, Noss Circular Walk

I enjoyed the return bus and ferry rides from Unst to Lerwick and arrived to my accommodation at the fabulous Isleburgh hostel. It is housed in an elegant mansion once owned by a wealthy herring merchant and is located atop a hill, not far from the harbour, and with a great view out over a park. It was a wonderful place to stay for my last two days in Lerwick.

In the afternoon I was booked on a boat tour with “Seabirds and Seals” that would travel from Lerwick, around the island of Bressay, and over to the island of Noss which is a National Nature Reserve. It was a beautiful afternoon and I arrived early to Victoria Pier and took several photos of the harbour and one of our boat.

We passed along the historic buildings of the harbour front, with commentary,

and then motored past the picturesque lighthouse located on Bressay. It was built in the 1850s by brothers David and Thomas Stevenson who also built the lighthouse at Muckle Flugga.

We stopped at a cliffside location to view a colony of Kittiwakes, and then we backed into a deep sea cave where black shags were nesting in dark crevices.

Then we passed through a sea arch, which is only possible on certain tides. That was fun!

The stratified and tilted sandstone cliffs of Bressay were very striking.

We then headed over to the island of Noss. The cliffs below its high Neap Hill are home to thousands of nesting seabirds including guillemots, fulmars and gannets.

As we travelled, a great skua flew overhead,

and later a gannet carrying a feather.

There were birds on the sea as well as in the air. Here is a quartet of guillemots,

and many more on the rocks!

Some of the guillemots are “bridled”, which means that they have a white eye line.

We also passed close to so many beautiful gannets.

At the base of the Neap Hill cliffs, on a series of ledges just above the sea,

there was a collection of young gannets with their immature plumage of patchy brown and white wing feathers.

It will take between four and five years for them to gain their adult plumage.

The commentator, Marie, was excellent and she told us many facts about all of the seabirds, but I was only half listening. I was so excited to see the gannets in such close proximity,

and as they flew all around and above us!

Eventually, we had to leave the Neap Hill colonies behind,

but I managed one last shot of a gannet who decided to follow us.

It was so wonderful to be on the sea and so close to the birds! We stopped for coffee and biscuits in a sheltered bay within sight of an old farmhouse. The house is now the home of two wardens who monitor the bird populations on Noss during the nesting season, between April and September. Marie said that the wardens will pick up walkers from the nearby island of Bressay and ferry them across to Noss where there is a circular walk around the island. I had already planned a hike for the following day but was now thinking that perhaps I’d revisit Noss instead, this time on foot.

As we began our return journey to Lerwick someone offered to take my picture. As you can see, I was very very happy to have splurged on this marvellous boat ride!

We said goodbye to Noss, and motored around to the far end of Bressay to enter busy Lerwick Harbour from the north side, past a large cruise ship and the NorthLink Ferry as well as many docks, boats, and a large boat building shed.

The next morning I decided that I would indeed walk the circular trail around Noss. The ferry to Bressay leaves from Lerwick harbour and the crossing takes less than ten minutes. I managed to get a ride across Bressay which saved me a six mile road walk! Below, one of the wardens is coming over on the inflatable to pick up some supplies, and then at 10 a.m. the other warden, a young woman came to pick up myself and three other walkers waiting on the Bressay shore.

She dropped us off and then zipped back across the water to pick up another four walkers. After that she gave us all a brief orientation in the small Visitors Centre. She showed us a map of the 8.25 km trail, pointed out where various bird colonies are and where we were most likely to see otters, and she requested that we stay on the coastal trail and not cross into the centre of the island where terns and great skuas nest.

I headed off, following the shoreline above a curve of beach,

and then along Noss’ low western shore.

As the trail swung around to the southern coast it began to rise up onto low cliffs and then onto higher cliffs that were sculpted into stacks and arches.

Puffins were on an off-shore stack, too distant for good photos,

but this fulmar was close and very peaceful looking despite being perched on the very edge of the cliff top!

Up ahead is a couple that was on the boat with me. They help give an idea of the scale of the cliffs.

This was a rather dizzying spot, with gannets nesting on the narrowest of ledges, and many soaring above the sea below.

I stepped as close to the edge as I dared, for this quick shot,

and then backed away and continued my climb up along the top of the cliffs towards the summit of Neap Hill.

Here are a view back, a view of the cairn atop Neap Hill, and a young gannet that soared past near enough for a photo.

The birds had definitely been easier to see from the boat, but I still loved this walk. After the excitement of being on the high cliffs, I relaxed and began the downhill trek along the eastern coast of Noss. There were views across Noss to Bressay and to Mainland, at least five geos to pass, and smaller pleasures as well – wispy tufts of cotton grass, pink ragged robin, and a lovely little wren.

Here is a view back towards Neap Hill,

and forward over the undulating land topped with sea pinks. Terns rose up in the air several times as I walked, and oyster catchers complained with their loud “pip pip pip” calls if I drew too close to their nests near the shore.

It was such a wonderful walk! I crossed over a stone fence on a stile, rose up and around a low hill to a northeast-facing beach, and then returned to the farmhouse where the warden gave me a ride back in the inflatable across the water to Bressay. Once on Bressay, I started the steep climb up the hill towards the parking area and then stopped for this view looking back down towards Noss. I was feeling envious of one of today’s fellow walkers who is a Shetlander and does this walk at least once every year.

At the top of the hill an older couple was sitting on a bench enjoying the view. He had wanted to cross to Noss but she is scared of boats. We chatted for a long time and I caught a ride back with them to the ferry terminal for the trip back to Lerwick, luckily avoiding the six mile road walk yet again! I took a few photos of the harbour from the ferry – a tall ship (the Christian Radich from Oslo) was now docked at Victoria pier!

I began my walk back to my hostel and noticed that there was no one at the “Welcome to Shetland” sign! Each time I had passed it on previous days it was mobbed by cruise ship passengers getting their photos taken but now it was free for me to take a selfie. It was my last day in Lerwick, with only three days left of my time in Shetland, and I was already feeling a little sad that my time in the Northern Isles was nearing its end.

But I also felt extremely grateful, and excited to travel to my next destination where I would see one of Shetland’s most beautiful sights, St. Ninian’s Isle and its golden sand tombolo. I was so happy with my day, and happy to greet the next. Thank you for travelling with me on this journey. 🙂

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Visiting West, South, and East on Unst – Lund Kirk, Underhoull Viking Longhouse and Broch, Uyeasound, Muness Castle, Sandwick Beach, Viking Longhouse and Framgord Kirk

My last full day on Unst dawned wet, cold, and windy. Now, I know that I’ve used these words over and over in my Orkney and Shetland posts! Typically, June is dryer and warmer than it has been during my visit, and many of the locals tried to make it better by saying, “We had a lovely May”! No worries, there’s nothing one can do except put on warm and waterproof clothes and make the best of it! Which is what I did as I rode my bicycle south from Baltasound against very cold and very strong wind. Luckily, the rain had lessened and soon ceased. I headed first to Lund, located on the west side of Unst, and stopped to photograph Bordastubble, Shetland’s largest standing stone at 12 feet high.

I continued to Lund to visit the ruin of a 12th century church, St Olaf’s Chapel, built on a headland and surrounded by a cemetery. Unfortunately, several large camper vans parked near the church marred the view on approach, but the ruin was atmospheric and the setting over the bay was inspiring.

I descended to the lovely beach, Lunda Wick, and had intended to start a walk here but decided instead to just take a short stroll. Someone had taken the time to make some pleasing spiral designs on the sand out of stones.

I cycled back up the hill and around to Underhoull on the other side of the bay. Here there were the remains of a 9th century Viking longhouse, built on an earlier Iron Age site,

and nearby was the remains of an Iron Age Broch. A party of four were already there exploring,

and when it was my turn to explore I was happy to see some remnants of the broch’s outer ditch and banks which are often no longer in existence at other brochs. Their depth and height, however, don’t show well in the photos below.

I then cycled south to the small community of Uyeasound. The rain had started up again just as I was arriving so I sat on the ground in a small shelter at Le Petit Cafe, Chez Simone. It is an honesty box cafe where you can fix yourself a tea or coffee and buy a packet or two of imported French biscuits or jarred pate! There is also an honesty box for the Peedie Rock Shop where polished stones are displayed in wooden boxes for anyone who wishes to browse and buy. (There is no restaurant or cafe in Uyeasound, and the google photo I had seen of Le Petit Cafe had two chairs in the shelter! I should have remembered about the hostel, which is nearby, as I’m sure I would have been welcome to take refuge there!)

I ate part of my lunch as I waited for the rain to ebb, and luckily it didn’t last very long – the wind, which had remained strong all morning, always brings change in Orkney and Shetland! My next destination was Muness Castle, which is Scotland’s most northerly castle. From here, one can do a 12 km loop of Unst’s southeastern coastline to Uyeasound, and then back along minor roads. The castle was built by Laurence Bruce, half brother to the Earl of Orkney, who was appointed as the sheriff-depute and chamberlain for the Lordship and Bishopric of Shetland in 1573. But, he was banished from the Northern Isles four years later after Unst islanders complained of his corruption and tyranny. Despite his banishment, he returned to Shetland and began building this castle in 1598. A sign outside the castle said that it had been “Erected out of the sweat and tears of Shetlanders.” Thirty years later, the castle was attacked and burned by French raiders.

From Muness I cycled to nearby Eastings and the beach at Sand Wick. I loved the walk down across a field of lush green grasses,

and was happy to arrive at yet another of Shetland’s stunning bays. Many Norse settlement sites have been discovered along this stretch of coast, and archaeologists also excavated an iron-age house and two Pictish burial sites near the start of the beach.

An interpretive board let me know that these stones, some knocked over by winter waves, are the remains of a Viking longhouse. Two other Norse longhouses were found and excavated further along the beach, but the remains have almost all been eroded by the sea. (The sea would have been lower when the Vikings built their homes here.)

I walked half way down the beach and looked towards the far point. I had planned to walk there to see the remains of a Viking farm and church,

but I suddenly felt drained of energy. I turned and walked down to the edge of the sea and debated whether to carry on, or to go back. I didn’t really want to choose either!

So, instead of deciding, I rose to the top of the beach towards a small section of low dune and sat in the soft sand, tucked out of the wind. I rested, snacked on some nuts, ate an apple, and rested a bit more.

Then I felt ready – the distant point no longer seemed so far away and it actually did not take long to cross the beach, rise up onto the grass and walk around to the location of Framgord, an unexcavated Norse farm, and its 12th century chapel. All that remains of the long narrow chapel are its low stone walls, but there were several small stone crosses of Norse origin in the cemetery that date from the early 11th to the early 12th centuries.

The walk continues further up the coast where Viking noosts can be found in the grass above the shore, and the ruins of a crofting community, abandoned during the clearances, can be explored. But, I was content with how far I had come. I walked back down the length of Sand Wick,

rose back up the field to my bicycle, and then began the return journey to Baltasound. I stopped briefly when I saw a small herd of Icelandic horses by the roadside, and also at a standing stone, called Uyea Breck, that sits on a hill above Uyeasound.

The sky was clearing as I cycled down towards the village of Uyeasound, with the sea on one side and a small loch on the other, but the wind was still strong and cold!

Ten miles later I arrived in Baltasound, just in time to visit the most northerly post office before it closed so that I could send a few postcards home. Then it was time to return the bicycle to the Unst Leisure Centre, a half mile away, and make the return half mile walk back to my Bnb. I was tired! But, the sun was now shining, the sky was blue, the wind had finally calmed, and flowers bloomed by the roadside. It was my last day on Unst and I had a lot to be grateful for.

I had explored north, west, south, and east. Yes, there was more to be seen, and walks I had not done, but I was content and very happy to have visited Unst, Shetland’s, and the U.K.’s, most northerly isle.

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

To the North! – Hermaness Nature Reserve, Seabird Colonies, Muckle Flugga Lighthouse, Burra Firth, Bobby’s Bus Shelter

On my second day on Unst, Matthew from the Unst Leisure Centre kindly delivered to me an electric bike that I had arranged to rent for two days to help me visit different parts of the island. My destination for today was the Hermaness Nature Reserve, at the very northern tip of Unst. I was very glad to have splurged on the electric bike because of the island’s hills and, no surprise, because I had to ride against very strong headwinds! It was a cold morning and I only stopped once en-route, at Burra Firth.

An uphill ride then led me to the parking area of the Hermaness National Nature Reserve where a looped trail of 10 km would lead me across a sweeping expanse of moor and blanket bog to reach dramatic high cliffs full of nesting seabirds, and views of Muckle Flugga, the U.K.’s most northerly lighthouse which is built on a jagged pinnacle of rock and is at the mercy of the formidable North Sea.

I began the climb up a trail, with views across Burra Firth, to the white globe of the old RAF station on the hill named Saxa Vord.

The trail stretched ahead and soon became a boardwalk which made the walking very easy and dry across the soft boggy ground. The expanse of moor was punctuated by small rivulets and pools of dark peaty water. It was very windy, but the sun was shining and the sky was blue!

The boardwalk is also there to protect the nesting sites of Great Skuas, known in Shetland as Bonxies. Hermaness is one of the world’s largest colonies of these impressive birds but sadly the avian flu decimated 80 percent of Shetland’s Bonxies in 2022. I did see several as they flew overhead, warning me to stay away from their nests. The walk over the moor was a great pleasure, and then I arrived at the coast!

Wow! The height of the cliffs, the strength of the wind, and the motion and roar of the waves below was a bit dizzying, but these sheep and puffins, living on the steep slopes and right at the edge of the cliffs, didn’t seem to mind!

I turned and walked south towards a hill called the Neap, with a large gannet colony on the cliffs below. Turning back, the Muckle Flugga lighthouse had come into view!

I rose up towards the Neap and could smell the colony before I saw it! The cliffs were white with thousands of nesting gannets and the sky was full of them soaring and wheeling, so fast, in the strong wind.

Here is one who came close enough for a half decent photo!

The nesting birds were quite distant, and this was the best photo I could manage of these beautiful birds, many of whom were busy preening as they sat on their nests or rested on the cliffside.

I wish that I had walked the extra half mile past the Neap for more views of this large colony, but mindful of my leg I returned to the main loop trail that would lead me around to Muckle Flugga. The scenery was stunning!

And there were puffins!

I watched them for some time as they socialized in small groups or in cozy pairs. Sometimes, if one of a pair flew off, a bachelor (or perhaps bachelorette) would rush in and ask, “Hey, how about maybe you get together with me?”, only to be gently rebuffed. They would then leave and look around again optimistically, alert for another opportunity!

I continued on the path and came to a series of jagged sea stacks, all in a row, that were covered with gannets. Hermaness boasts around 30,000 breeding pairs!

This stack had a sea arch,

and I suspect that there might be a mathematical equation that describes the spatial distribution of these gannets!

Walking further east, and closer to the cliff edge, revealed even more groupings.

What a spectacular sight!

I continued on towards Muckle Flugga, the jagged rock topped by an impressive lighthouse with the same name. Its builders, brothers Thomas and David Stevenson, initially refused to build a lighthouse here because of the dangerous seas and challenging topography. But the government insisted, as a lighthouse was needed to facilitate the safe passage of naval ships bound for the Crimean War. The brothers created a temporary lighthouse in 1854, 50 feet high and 200 feet above the sea, but winter storms brought waves high enough and powerful enough to knock down the iron door to the keepers’ rooms! The lighthouse that stands today was completed by the Stevensons in 1858, and for 134 years Muckle Flugga and was the most northerly inhabited isle in the U.K. until the lighthouse became automated in 1995.

Below is the closest image I could manage. Before leaving Canada for Shetland I had watched an episode of “The Secret Life of Lighthouses” (S3E2) about Muckle Flugga and the enormous efforts, bravery, and engineering skills that it took to build. You can find the episode on the Knowledge Network, at Knowledge.ca, if you would like to learn more.

Beyond Muckle Flugga, some 600 metres to the northeast, is Out Stack, or Oosta, which is officially the most northerly piece of land belonging to the British Isles. Lady Franklin, the wife of Sir John Franklin, landed on Out Stack in 1849 when her husband failed to return from his expedition to find the North West Passage. She looked to the north and prayed for her husband’s eventual safe return, but of course her prayer would never be answered.

I sat on the grass overlooking Muckle Flugga, had my lunch, and watched the sea here for a long time. This was my only planned outing for the day, the air had warmed, and I had plenty of time, so instead of climbing the hill to continue my walk I decided that I wanted to visit with the puffins some more. I love them! They are often called comical, but I find them elegant and composed,

beautiful, bright, and socially and emotionally intelligent! (Granted, my opinions are based on limited observational experience!)

After my time watching the puffins, I rejoined the path and started my climb up the hill. I turned near the top for a last view back to Muckle Flugga,

and then crested the hill where I saw the few remaining stones of the Signal Station that once stood in sight of the lighthouse. Before the use of radio, the Signal Station and Lighthouse communicated with each other by means of Semaphore with regards to issues like items needed, supply boat deliveries, issues at sea, and medical emergencies. I began the downhill walk with the long inlet of the Burra Firth to my left,

and soon reached a section of boardwalk which undulated across the moor of blanket bog, heather, cotton grass and sphagnum mosses.

The boardwalk went on, and on, and on!

As I walked I thought about the men who would make the journey up to and then back from the Signal House on foot, without the aid of this boardwalk. It would have been an arduous, wet and sometimes dangerous walk – a series of poles marked the way to keep the men from getting lost on days of rain and fog.

For me, on this fine day, it was a most wonderful walk. All along the return journey I heard Skylarks singing their incredibly long, complex, and elaborate songs, but I could never spot them in the grasses! Their calls were clear and bright and so pleasing to the ear – a fine accompaniment to my walk. I reached the very last section of the trail, now on gravel,

and soon reached my bicycle. I began the six mile cycle ride back to Baltasound and only made three brief stops on the way. The first was here, to photograph the golden beach at the end of the Burra Firth,

and the second was here, where the place names are obviously of Norse origin and the cows are definitely Scottish!

My third stop was at Bobby’s Bus Shelter which has become a rather famous photo stop on Unst. The shelter is named after Bobby Macaulay, a seven-year old who wrote a letter to the local council asking them not to remove the shelter, when they had plans to do so, because that’s where he stored his bike when he caught the bus to school. The shelter was saved and someone furnished it with a small couch, chair, and other household comforts. Each year, the shelter is redecorated with a theme. This year, the theme was Leap Year, with a focus on Animals That Leap. I perused the books about animals that leap, signed the Visitors Book, and deeply suspected the involvement of a teacher or librarian in the endeavour!

I returned to my lovely and comfortable bnb, microwaved an entree, (there are no restaurants or cafes at present in Baltasound), and spent a quiet evening in my room. It was a wonderful day at Hermaness, at the far northern tip of the British Isles!

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Off to Unst – The U.K.’s Most Northerly Isle! – Haroldswick, Viking Ship and Longhouse, Unst Heritage Centre, Unst Boat Haven, Baltasound

It was time to visit Unst, the U.K.’s most northerly isle. I boarded a bus north from Lerwick for the ferry to the island of Yell, and then another bus north across Yell to the ferry for Unst. The journey took a little over two hours and it was a relaxing to sit, look out the windows of the buses and ferries, and enjoy the views of Shetland’s rugged hilly countryside, dramatic coasts, and pristine bays. Here is the ferry, pulling away from the Belmont terminal, after delivering me to Unst.

I took another local bus north to the small community of Haroldswick which boasts the most northerly tea room in Britain, Victoria’s Vintage Tea Room. They kindly agreed to store my big backpack for the afternoon, and I sat for a really good cup of coffee and possibly the best scone I have ever had!

Leaving the tea room, I looked across the bay to my destination, a replica Viking ship and longhouse. Haroldswick, Norse for Harold’s bay, is said to be where Harald Fairhair, the first king of Norway, once landed. Only two days’ sail from Norway, Unst is directly in the path of the major Viking seaways and likely would have been the landing place for many of Shetland’s first Norse settlers. The remnants of at least sixty Norse longhouses have been found on Unst, which is said to be the largest number of rural longhouse sites found anywhere in the Viking world.

My leg was quite sore after my walk around Kettla Ness, but it begins to feel better when moving, so I walked the short distance around the bay, stopping en-route to admire the beach, sea and sky, and a group of Shetland ponies in a field.

The Skinblader, a replica Viking ship, was tremendous! (Please click on the photos, if you like, for closer views of the elaborate carvings on the stern and the prow).

Built in Sweden in the 1990s, the ship is a full-scale replica of the 9th century Gokstad ship which was was found in a burial site in Norway in 1880. The builders named it the Skinblader after a magic ship of Norse mythology that was made by dwarfs and given by them to the god Freyr.

A staircase led up and into the large ship which could seat 32 oarsmen and carry up to 70 persons. It was exciting to be on the deck and feel, just a little bit, what it might have been like to traverse the ocean or sail up a river on such a vessel.

The Viking replica longhouse was created based on information gained from excavations of longhouses on Unst. Rectangular in shape, and usually housing a family and animals in separate areas, the longhouses were built with either stone or turf walls, and roofed with timber and turf. Being in the longhouse brought back memories of visiting similar reconstructions with my family in Iceland.

I then visited the Unst Heritage centre where displays detailed the island’s geology, wildlife and botany, and human history from the Neolithic through to the Viking Age and beyond to the last few centuries. A hand quern (top left) was used by crofters to grind oats and bere, and a small area (centre photo) honoured the building’s former life as a schoolhouse. There were beautiful displays about lacemaking, for which Unst is famous. Behind glass and in drawers were gossamer-like lace items created with the finest threads – what an endeavour it would have been to create them! One striking piece (bottom left) was created from a heavier wool yarn but still gave an impression of delicacy. There was a large and pleasant room at the Heritage Centre which is used by lace-makers, weavers, knitters, and other textile artists to gather and practice their craft.

Next I visited the Unst Boat Haven, a very fine maritime museum with displays of many wooden boats used in Shetland. I learned a lot here!

Each boat had an information sheet which detailed when the boat was built and by whom, what its use was, who were its owners, its dimensions and features of its design, as well as other details of its history. For example, the boat in the foreground of the photo below, Miss Gadabout, apparently had “a long and successful racing life” and “her performance to windward in strong winds was legendary.”

There were also all manner of maritime-related objects on display like boat building tools, and fishing supplies like nets and creels and floats, as well as photographs, diagrams, and text. I learned about the Shetland Sixareen, a wooden boat whose origins date to Norse boats of the 9th century, but which evolved in shape and style over time. It was used in the haaf fishery (deep sea fishery, far offshore) because it was stable and handled well in rough seas. It was 30 feet long and was rowed or sailed by six men up to 30 or more miles from land to fish for ling, cod, and whitefish. Lines up to 6000 fathoms long were baited with herring and the lines took up to two hours to prepare and over four hours to haul in. In July, 1881, a sudden gale caught a fishing fleet 40 miles offshore and 10 boats and 58 men were lost to the sea. Afterwards, the use of sixareens decreased in favour of safer and larger decked boats.

In the early 1900s, Baltasound on Unst became one of the main centres of the herring industry in northwestern Europe. During the herring season, the population of Baltasound would rise from around 600 to over 10,000, with up to 600 ships delivering herring to 46 stations scattered around the sound. “Herring lasses” from Shetland, Scotland, Northumberland and Ireland would arrive and stay for the season to gut and pack the herring in barrels. The industry began to decline around the time of the First World War and by the start of the Second World War most of Baltasound’s herring stations had closed.

This photo, however, was taken in 1974 in Lerwick!

After my visit to the Boat Haven, I had extra time before my bus would take me to my accommodation in the village of Baltasound. The day was warm, with little wind, and I decided to sit facing the bay, not far from the tea room. I idly scanned the area for an otter, and after about fifteen minutes I saw the tell-tale curving sweep of an otter’s back as it hunted in the seaweed not far from shore. I watched for a while as it continued to hunt, and then I decided to move forward each time it dived.

I settled on a rock, not far from the shore, and then watched as it popped its head up, some distance away, with a crab in its mouth! It made a beeline for the shore, directly towards me! It rose out of the water, intent on its meal, and did not notice me at all.

Two seconds after I took the photo below, the otter raised its head and saw me. We stared at each other and I could read his expression and imagined his thoughts: “Who the heck are you? What are you doing here? I just caught a crab and want to eat it! Are you leaving?”

I didn’t move, and didn’t dare raise my camera to capture him looking at me, and after a few seconds he decided to leave. He slipped back into the water, swam a short distance away, and then turned to look at me again, doubtless wondering if I was going to leave so that he could return to his eating spot.

Seeing me still watching him, he swam quickly away and disappeared among the rocks and seaweed. I felt bad for disturbing his mealtime, but was so happy that I had finally seen an otter! Soon afterwards I took the bus to Baltasound, and the driver let me off right in front of Winwick House, my lovely Bnb for my three day stay on Unst. I rested for the remainder of the afternoon and in the early evening I decided to go for a short walk. Baltasound is the largest community on Unst, and boasts the U.K.’s most northerly shop, school, leisure centre, hotel and post office. I passed by the post office,

and then strolled up a nearby street where I met this lovely Shetland pony.

I walked a little further and glanced longingly to the east. I was not far from the trailhead for a walk that I had initially planned for this evening – a 5.5 km circular route around the Keen of Hamar, a National Nature Reserve, known for its unique geology, coastal cliffs, and rare flowers, one of which is only found here. My leg was quite sore again, and I had ambitious plans for the next two days, so I knew that the walk was one that I would sadly have to forego. I retraced my steps, said hello again to the pony who came straight over to see me, and was excited to find some deep purple creeping thyme growing all along a stone wall.

I was on Unst, happy to be in Shetland, and on the U.K.’s most northerly isle!

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Two Wonderful Shetland Walks – The Island of Mousa, Mousa Broch, Banna Minn Beach and Kettla Ness

On my second day on Mainland, Shetland, I took a bus to Sandwick to visit the small island of Mousa, famous for its massive and wonderfully preserved 2300 year old broch. My hip and leg were very sore when I woke, but this was a small outing and the only one planned for the day. The bus let me off at the top of a hill, with a view out to the island of Mousa and to Sandseye pier in the bay below.

There was plenty of time before the sailing to read many of the displays in the small but obviously lovingly-created museum that related many stories about Mousa, the broch, Sandwick, and the local area. There were displays about boats and shipwrecks, flora and fauna, fishing, crofting, and the human history of the area beginning as far back as the Neolithic. One display told the story of Betty Mouat who was the sole passenger on the Packet Boat Columbine, in January of 1886, journeying from her home near Scatness, South Mainland, up to Lerwick to sell her shawls. Enroute, part of the ship’s rigging fell and knocked the captain and mate overboard. The mate was able to pull himself back on the deck, and then he and the third crewman launched a small boat to rescue the skipper. Unfortunately, the skipper had disappeared, and meanwhile the Columbine had sailed out of reach with only Betty Mouat aboard. She landed eight days later in Norway! Betty returned to a hero’s welcome in Edinburgh and Shetland, and lived for another thirty years at her home in Scatness.

After my time in the museum, we boarded the Solan IV and sailed out of the bay with views back to the grand home of the Laird of Sandwick who owns the island of Mousa. We first sailed south of Sandwick to the location of the Hermann, a Danish ship carrying tons of coal, that had crashed against the rocks after seven harrowing days at sea during the Great Gale of 1900. Our Captain related the gripping story, summarized here. The ship had been bound for Norway and was near its shores three days into the gale but could not find safe anchorage. The storm knocked the ship over onto its side, with its masts resting on the sea. The crew managed to cut off two masts in order to partially right the ship. They then lashed themselves to the hull as the gale drove them towards Shetland. Four days later the Herman crashed into the cliffs near Sandwick. One crew member was able to climb the remaining mast and leap onto the jagged rocks of the cliff as the mast swayed close on a wave. He then fastened a rope so that the other six crew members could be saved before the ship sank. The exhausted crew were taken in by Sandwick crofters, and they eventually made their way back to Denmark. It was quite a story!

Next we sailed across the Sound towards the island of Mousa and past its broch for a view from the sea. There is a railing at the top because visitors can actually climb the stone staircase that rises between an inner and outer wall all the way to the top! Mousa is the most complete and best-preserved broch in all of Scotland.

We landed north of the broch where there was a warming house. The entire island is an RSPB preserve and also a Special Protection Area for the U.K.’s second largest breeding colony of Storm Petrels.

Despite my sore leg and hip I hustled to be the first to arrive at the broch. It was an easy fifteen minute walk, with great views back to the bay and, after cresting a small hill, forward to the broch.

It was immense!

Amazingly huge!

And though I am not very tall, this view, taken later, definitely gives an idea of the enormous size of this structure built over two millenia ago.

I was first inside,

and first to climb the narrow staircase, Scotland’s oldest. Part way up there was a view down into the centre of the broch,

and up top there were views of the trail below and across Mousa Sound towards the opposite shore, south of Sandwick, where there are the smaller remains of a broch that may once have been as large as this one.

Wow! So spectacular. I was already thrilled with my boat trip to Mousa and we still had another two hours on the island. Access is limited to a 3.5 kilometre looped trail to protect nesting Storm Petrels, Arctic Terns, and other wildlife, and I was very happy to take my time and really enjoy the walk. I passed meadows with beautiful tufts of cotton grass waving in the wind,

and the trail led around to a lovely little series of bays and beaches.

Seals were hauled out on a distant rocky point, clearly visible in a pair of binoculars loaned to me by a pair of women who had also travelled on the bus.

The shore became rockier and a sign near this dry stone fence reminded walkers that tiny Storm Petrels make their nests in the nooks and crannies of the stones so it was important not to sit or lean on them. The Storm Petrels also nest within the stones of the broch itself, and one can take a sunset boat trip out to Mousa to watch the petrels flying in by the thousands from the sea to land in the broch and on the fences and rocky shores. Approximately 11,000 pairs of Stormy Petrels nest on the island, with around 400 pairs nesting in the broch itself.

We passed by a group of shags,

and I don’t think I will ever tire of seeing swaths of pink sea thrift on beautiful coastal walks.

I took my time, and stopped often to chat with someone or to have a rest. I had wanted to be first to the broch and now I wanted to be the last to arrive back at the warming house. Others passed on ahead,

and I followed slowly, very happy indeed with this wonderful outing on the island of Mousa.

Back in Lerwick, I relaxed for the rest of the afternoon and then in the early evening considered going out to celebrate the summer solstice. I really did feel like staying in, but the solstice is a special day so after humming and hawing a bit I resolved to visit the Mareel Centre where it was going to be a “Singer/Songwriter” night, with free admission and drinks available to order. However, on the way to Mareel, I heard wonderful traditional music as I passed the Douglas Arms pub. I entered, found one of the last seats, ordered a cider and stayed to enjoy the really fabulous music played by two fiddlers and an accordionist. They were later joined by a talented young fiddler, and then later again by two other youths. They were all so good! And they were having a lot fun which meant that those listening had fun as well. I raised a glass to the solstice, so glad that I had ventured out into Shetland’s simmer dim to enjoy the evening with others.

The following day I had only one outing planned, a visit to the gorgeous Banna Minn beach (some say the most beautiful in all of Shetland), and then a 7.5 km hike around the Kettla Ness peninsula. Two buses took me south on a scenic ride, over hills, around bays, and across bridges to the tiny community of Papil on West Burra. I had five hours before the return bus to Lerwick so there was plenty of time to do the walk slowly, rest often, and enjoy time on the beach. This was the approach to a magnificent tombolo, with Banna Minn beach on the right and the Kettla Ness peninsula beyond. Wow!

It was a windy, cold, and drizzly morning, and there was not another soul on the beach or anywhere in sight. I headed down to the beach, walked out onto the sand,

and strolled a ways down the beach. Such clear and beautiful water!

I rose up onto the top of the tombolo, and walked along the sandy track towards Kettla Ness.

This was the view looking back. One side of the tombolo is a sand beach and the other is stony.

Rising up onto Kettla Ness, I began my circuit of the peninsula, following a faint path across the turf that curved along and around the edge of the bay,

and then around a point to the west coast of Kettla Ness, with its dramatic views of jagged rocks and the open sea.

My hike would take me to the far point of the narrow peninsula ahead,

but first there was a low cairn-topped hill to climb, with views back to Banna Minn beach,

and then forward and down to a small loch.

The dramatic scenery continued all along this coast and out to the end of the point where I rested for a while out of the wind on the lee side of a cairn. Watching the waves on the sea, crashing against the rocks, was exhilirating!

I continued along around Kettla Ness on its short stretch of south coast, past dark pinnacles of rock in the sea and with terns flying high above.

Then the path swung around to travel on the peninsula’s gentler east coast. These were the first horned sheep that I have encountered in the Northern Isles.

The cliffs here were low, with multiple small coves indenting the shoreline. There was much evidence on the turf of otters regularly feeding along here, and I stopped for a long time in one small cove, hoping for a sighting. I was not lucky,

but this Skua bravely let me approach quite close for a photo before flying away. Soon I began to pass the remains of many old abandoned crofts as I circled slowly back towards the tombolo.

I descended to this beautiful stone beach,

and then rose up for this view of Banna Minn,

and this beautiful view of the bay. The sky was brightening, with bits of blue visible, and the colour of the water was breathtaking!

I walked over the tombolo to a point mid-way along Banna Minn,

and then descended to the sand, here, to stop, rest, enjoy, and have my lunch. My leg and hip were sore, but not terribly so, and I was very happy that I had chosen this walk.

I climbed up the hill, and turned for one last look at this amazing view.

I still had some time before my bus would arrive so I browsed in an artist’s studio in Papil, and then peered into the windows of this thatched cottage that is being restored by the Burra History Group. There were lovely views across the bay to the island of East Burra which has its own small peninsula, Houss Ness, that one can also walk around.

My first bus took me to Scalloway and I briefly considered exploring the town, but these Shetland ponies were a wonderful reason to stay exactly where I was.

They all came to say hello and by the time I had petted four noses my next bus was minutes away. Shetland ponies, in Shetland, was certainly a great way to end my day’s outing. 🙂

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Back to Kirkwall and on to Shetland! – Churchill Barriers, Italian Chapel, Ferry Mishap, Lerwick Heritage Walk

It was a beautiful day when I left Sandy, full of sunshine and with a warm breeze. It was the first day since arriving on Orkney that I didn’t have to wear my rain pants to cut the wind or protect me from showers! I said goodbye to my hostel and bike and took a few photos while I waited for my ferry to arrive.

Kirkwall too looked better in the sun! I had planned a “do nothing” day, except for a few chores (laundry, groceries), and getting to my hostel.

I spent a quiet evening and read up on the Churchill Barriers (my outing for the following day), and the vital role played by Orkney in both of the World Wars. Unfortunately the next day dawned wet and very windy (again!), but by this time I was getting quite used to it! I took a bus south from Kirkwall and got off just before the first barrier. During the First World War, many old ships and disused fishing vessels had been sunk in the narrow channels between small islands that lead into Scapa Flow harbour, the main base for the British Royal Navy, to prevent enemy ships from entering the harbour. However, in the early days of WWII, a German U-47 submarine managed to slip undetected into Scapa Flow and sink the Royal Oak, killing 835 of its crew of 1,234. Stronger defences were needed so Churchhill, who was then First Lord of the Admiralty, ordered the construction of barriers to block the channels. Four were built out of quarried rock and huge blocks of concrete. I walked over the first barrier, from Mainland over to the small island of Lamb Holm.

Here is the much-visited Italian Chapel on Lamb Holm. It was built by Italian prisoners of war who were imprisoned on Orkney to build the barriers. They had requested permission to build an Italian-styled Catholic chapel for worship and to remind them of home. The small chapel has a baroque facade,

but it was built out of two pre-fab military huts.

A prisoner by the name of Domico Chiocchetti took the lead in the creation of the church, and he painted all of the frescoes in the interior. Scrap metal was used to create the ornate gate and chandeliers, and a suspension spring was used as the base for the baptismal font. Chiocchetti returned to Italy after the war, and in 1960 he was invited to visit Orkney. On that visit he brought with him carved wooden stations of the cross to add to the nave of the church.

I walked across Lamb Holm to reach the second barrier. Here I could see some of the scuttled ships in the shallow water.

I then crossed the small island of Glimps Holm to reach the third barrier. Just before the barrier there was a staircase that led down to a peaceful beach where I stopped for a short rest before crossing. There were even more wrecks visible here in the water.

Here is a view looking back over the third barrier as I climbed a hill on the next island, Burray.

I walked almost as far as the fourth barrier, but when I reached a bus stop I decided to head back to Kirkwall. I was a little tired from the wind and rain, and there was almost no shoulder to walk on, if any in some places, and also there was a fair amount of traffic. I was glad that I had walked the three barriers, but also glad to return to Kirkwall and my hostel. The Kirkwall Hostel was excellent, and though checkout that morning had been at 10, I was welcome to stay all day and use their kitchen, dining room, and lounge, until 11 p.m. when I would head to the NorthLink Ferry terminal for my 11:45 p.m. sailing to Lerwick, Shetland. Thank you Kirkwall Hostel!

On to Shetland!

I had decided to splurge on a cabin for the overnight sailing to Shetland in order to arrive in Lerwick rested and ready for a full day of sightseeing. I took this photo of happy me, and fifteen minutes later I was already in bed, tucked in and ready for a good sleep. The ferry crosses often very rough waters as it travels on the North Sea, but our passage was relatively calm. I liked the motions of the ship – it felt like being rocked in a cradle, safe and warm.

But then later, on a visit to my ensuite in the pitch dark, and still half-asleep, the ship tilted and I tilted too and started to fall over. I grabbed for where I thought the sink was but caught only air. There was no way to right myself and I fell down hard onto my hip and shoulder in the tiled shower. Ow!! I was shocked, hurt, upset, and angry with myself, and also worried about my hip and the rest of my trip and all of the walks that I had planned to do. No more happy me!

We docked in Lerwick and I limped off of the ship very much in pain and still upset with myself. Luckily, I was able to get on a bus right at the terminal and get off less than half a block to my accommodation where I had arranged to drop off my big backpack. It was too early to check in of course, at 8 a.m., and I didn’t know where to go to just sit, so I headed off on a modified walk from what I had originally planned for the morning. I made my way slowly and gingerly along a paved path, with lovely and diverting views of the sea, in an area of Lerwick called Da Sletts, on my way to visit the Clickimin Broch.

The broch sits on a promontory in Loch Clickimin.

Although painful, I felt like it was good for me to move so I kept to my plan of walking around the small loch. Luckily, there were well-placed benches along the way!

This is the approach to the Clickimin Broch which is encircled by an outer defensive wall.

Well-preserved, the Iron Age broch was built on a site that has been occupied since at least the Bronze Age.

It is a really impressive broch, and beside and around it are the remains of other dwellings. A wooden set of steps in the interior enabled viewing of the staircase that is built between an inner and outer wall. This feature is typical of Iron Age brochs.

After visiting the broch, I was able to check in very early to my accommodation. Thank you Solheim guest house! After several hours of rest, I set out to continue my walk and explore Lerwick. My first stop was the 19th century St Magnus Church. Quiet and peaceful, I sat and admired the angled beams of the wooden roof – the architecture of the church reminded me somewhat of a Viking hall.

I proceeded down the hill to the stone-flagged Commercial Street on the waterfront. Here there were many large stone buildings that were storehouses, shops, homes, and loading docks for Lerwick’s fish and wool merchants in the 18th and 19th centuries.

The most famous of these buildings in Lerwick is “The Lodberrie” which is the house owned by Jimmy Perez in the “Shetland” crime drama series. Lodberrie comes from an old Norse term for a place to load and unload a boat.

Nearby is the small Bains Beach which also often features in the series “Shetland.”

To the left (below) is the Old Tollbooth, built in 1776, which was originally home to the Sheriff Court and Prison. Apparently, tunnels ran beneath many of the lodberries in order to evade the customs and excise men.

I continued along the busy harbour-front street, now called Esplanade. Three cruise ships were in Lerwick harbour on this day and tourists were strolling along or hailing taxis or waiting in lines for large coach buses to collect them.

I rose up the hill a few blocks to visit the remains of Fort Charlotte which was built in 1653, by order of Cromwell. Dutch and Spanish ships had been warring over access to Shetland’s rich fish stocks and Cromwell wanted to impose English claim on the fishing grounds. Success was limited however and throughout the 18th century fleets from Holland, France, Denmark, Prussia, and Spain continued to fish in Shetland’s waters.

I next walked to the area known as Hay’s Dock which was the centre of Lerwick’s massive herring industry in the 19th century. Fishing vessels landed with their holds full and the fish were processed here and packed into barrels of salt for export. The area was filled with docks, warehouses, workshops, cooperages, smithies, sawmills and shipyards. This is now where the world-class Shetland Museum and Archives are located. They have incorporated modern architecture with historic warehouses, and as well as displaying artefacts relating to Shetland from pre-history to the present, they also showcase art installations and have a theatre, cafe, and multiple seating areas and meeting rooms.

By this time, I was very tired and my leg and hip were quite sore so unfortunately I took in very little at the museum. A few things did catch my eye as they related to some of the places that I would be visiting in Shetland: the silver bowls and brooches of Celtic design date from the 700s and were found hidden beneath a church on St Ninian’s isle, possibly for safekeeping from Viking raids; the beautiful image of a horse, etched into stone, is of Viking origin; and the document is a Purchase of Land, dated 1360, from the northern isle of Unst, in which “Markus Gudbrandsson sells the island of Uyea to Herdis Thorvaldsdotter, a local heiress”.

I left the museum and took this photo of Mareel, also located at Hay’s Dock. It is Lerwick’s modern performance, arts, and education centre for music, film and theatre.

I slowly wandered my way back along the shopping district on Commercial Street,

and then climbed up several narrow lanes to the district of Hillhead and my accommodation on King Harald Street. I settled in for an evening and night of rest, and tried to be optimistic about the days ahead. Looking on the bright side, despite my ferry mishap and injury, I had acquainted myself with Lerwick, and I was very happy to be in Shetland!

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

A Brilliant Day on Sandy, Sunshine and Sparkling Seas! – Lopness Bay, Start Point Lighthouse, Cata Sand, Tres Ness Peninsula and Cairn

On my second full day on Sanday I again woke up to a gray and drizzly morning. Sigh. By the time I headed outside, the rain had thankfully stopped but the wind was very strong and very cold. I had two destinations planned for the day: Start Point Lighthouse, about ten miles away at the far northeastern end of Sanday, and a ten kilometre walk along a beach and dunes to the end of the Tres Ness peninsula and back. Now more familiar with the island’s roads I headed off and cycled past the airfield,

and past many farm fields including this one with very fat sheep,

and this one with curious cows.

I cycled through Lady Village and on to Cata Sand. Like the nearby Peedie Sea, it is a large and very shallow bay that is almost circular in shape. To the left of centre in the photo below is a long sand spit, lined with tall dunes, that connects to the Tress Ness peninsula.

Leaving Cata Sand, I continued north on the quiet one-lane road. I was fighting a very strong headwind so I was thankful to have the extra power of the electric bike! For much of the way, low dunes were on my right and farm fields to my left. I could hear the ocean but not see it so I stopped when I saw a faint trail leading up onto the dune.

This was the view of the beach at Lopness Bay looking to the south,

and to the north. Wow! My destination, the lighthouse, is invisible in the far distance.

I continued further up the road and reached a small parking area for beach access to Lopness Bay. An interpretive sign told the story of a World War I B-98 German Torpedo Ship-Destroyer that was wrecked in these shallow waters. Her remains can be seen on a low tide,

but I was more interested in spotting the lighthouse. Barely visible (a tiny vertical speck in the very centre of the photo below), it was still so far away!

I continued my ride north, against the chill wind, and finally arrived at the starting point of a two-kilometre walk to the lighthouse which sits on a small tidal island.

I had read that access is possible for about ninety minutes on either side of the low tide, and I was there sixty minutes before the low tide, but there was still a fair amount of water between myself and the island. I explored options for possibly crossing over from rock to rock but the few paths I tried were incredibly slick and slippery with seaweed. I did not want to risk a fall at this point on my trip, with several weeks of travel still ahead,

so I retreated, sat for a while, and contemplated waiting for the water to recede further. Deciding not to wait, I contented myself with this zoomed-in view of the lighthouse – not exactly the majestic photo of this lighthouse that I was hoping for! Built in 1806 by Thomas and Robert Stevenson, it is 23 metres tall and is the only lighthouse in Scotland painted with vertical stripes.

I turned to walk back and was struck by the beauty of this curve of beach and its stones and seaweed,

and a little further on I took this photo of the long white shell beach at Scuthvie Bay. There is one lone walker on the beach! A few miles to the west of here is a very special place, the Tofts Ness peninsula, which contains an astonishing number of ancient sites including settlement mounds, a burnt mound complex, chambered cairns, and a network of banks and enclosures, dating from the Neolithic, through to the Bronze Age, and into the early Iron Age. But, that exploration would have to wait for, hopefully, a future visit to Sanday.

My return bicycle ride south was much easier, with the wind behind me instead of against me, but I was feeling rather low in energy and spirits – I had not been successful in visiting the lighthouse, and I realized that I had forgotten my lunch at the hostel. I wasn’t keen to cycle all the way back, but I definitely had to eat before my ten kilometre walk. Luckily, the community shop in Lady Village was open. I choose some nutritious items and enjoyed my lunch on a bench outside the shop when something wonderful happened – the sky had slowly been brightening and then rather suddenly it cleared and the sun shone! Happy and rejuvenated, I cycled back to Cata Sand for this epic view – it is quite a contrast from my morning photo taken from the same spot!

A wonderful grassy path filled with tiny flowers curved all the way along the edge of the bay,

and then angled towards and through the dunes. It was so beautiful and so exciting,

and then I rose up to here!

This is the view south, looking towards the Tres Ness peninsula,

and this is the view to the north. Wow!

I walked down the steep dune and straight to the sea, entranced by its colour and the wispy clouds in the sky,

and then I started down the beautiful wide beach.

Ringed plovers and other small wading birds were feeding on the shore,

and the beach stretched almost endlessly ahead.

There were fabulous views looking back as well!

I neared a low break in the dunes and crossed over it. The tiny flowers growing directly in the sand are called Sea Rocket (Cakile maritima).

This was the view looking into the bay of Cata Sand at low tide. My bicycle was parked somewhere way back there!

I crossed back over to the sea side and saw a couple walking towards me. They were the only two people I would see on this entire walk.

I continued up the beach to another break in the dunes ahead, and then turned for this view back,

before crossing again to the Cata Sand side near to the narrow channel where the sea enters into the bay. I joined a grassy track and was now walking on the Tres Ness peninsula towards the remains of an old farm. A sign near here warned walkers to stay on the path and to keep dogs on leash as Little Terns nest in fields nearby.

Abandoned for many years, someone has now created a beautiful house at the farm site. The hexagonal building with a pyramidal roof was once a “horse-engine” in which horses would walk round to power a threshing machine.

A grassy path stretched out into the distance. Where was the end?!

I actually didn’t want it to end! Here is a view looking back towards the dunes and beach,

and here is a view towards the west of geese rising from a small loch and flying over a grassy mound which is the remains of an Iron Age broch.

Here is the mound again, in the distance across the loch.

After a while the path became almost indiscernible through the thick vegetation, but I carried on and eventually I could see a low mound ahead, the Tres Ness chambered cairn. It was located near a section of fence and a trig point marker, exactly as described in my trail notes from walkhighlands.co.uk (a fabulous resource).

The Tres Ness Neolithic chambered burial cairn is beneath this grassy and wildflower-covered mound. Threatened with erosion by the sea, the cairn was excavated in 2021 and then it was recovered with soil and its entrance was closed with repositioned stones.

I sat by the mound, looking out to this view of the sea, and felt extraordinarily grateful to be here.

I returned to the fence and looked back across this beautiful field towards the dunes in the distance. It was a long way to go,

but the journey back was just as soul-stirring and inspiring as the journey out had been and I enjoyed every moment of the walk.

I walked back all the way to the farm, and then out to where the sea enters Cata Sand. The tide was coming in now, and this time as I walked by the sign about nesting terns, about thirty or forty terns rose up into the air as I passed. I was elated and watched them for a moment, but then hurried past so as not to bother them too much. There is one tern in the photo below.

I walked along the edge of Cata Sand to the low point through the dunes,

and crossed back to the wide sand beach.

I walked and walked,

and then I realized that I hadn’t made proper note of which dune I had come down!

Three times I climbed up onto the dune on what I thought might be the correct path, only to find out that it wasn’t. The third time, though, I knew from the shapes of the dunes ahead that I was close so I just stayed on top of the dune and pushed my way through the tall grasses to connect onto proper trail. Whew! Just like the previous day, my trusty bike was waiting patiently,

and I cycled home very happy indeed. The clouds had already returned, but Sanday had generously granted my wish to walk one of its most splendid beaches in bright sunshine, with blue skies and sparkling seas. Thank you Sanday!

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

Rain, Wind, Fog, and Four Flights to Sanday – Peedie Sea, Quoyness Chambered Tomb, Kettletof, Sanday Heritage Centre, Burnt Mound and Croft, Scar Viking Boat Burial Beach, Whitemill Bay

After my perfect day of walking on Westray and Papa Westray the rain and wind came back with a vengeance. I was headed to Sanday and had decided to travel by air instead of the ferries as it would get me to Sanday sooner (both options had waits in Kirkwall), and also I could view the islands from above. My first flight was the two minute flight to Papa Westray, up and then down, and then immediately after taking on several more passengers we began the fifteen minute flight to Kirkwall. It was very windy and the small plane was tossed around a bit which was both a bit alarming and fun! I loved looking down on the islands and the white-capped sea, and I had full confidence in our pilot who managed a very smooth landing despite the rough conditions.

It was raining heavily in Kirkwall so I abandoned my planned-for outing (I had almost a five hour wait) and spent the entire time at the airport downloading and sorting through photos and catching up on my blog. When the time came near for the Sanday flight there was some question as to whether it would go or not because of fog. The departure time came and went with no clear answer and I was losing the chance to travel by taxi to the ferry terminal to catch the last ferry to Sanday. Finally the attendant said, “We’re gonna give it a try.” That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence! Up again into the rain and the wind and the fog with the plane being buffeted about. There was a passenger for Stronsay so we landed there first on their short rough runway, and then up again for another ten minutes or so before landing on Sanday where the landing strip was just visible enough. Phew! Again, it was a bit alarming but also fun! My neighbour on the plane kindly offered me a lift to my destination, the Sanday Community Shop. I had prearranged to rent an electric bicycle there and they had offered to give me a lift to my hostel. They were so nice! I also received a warm welcome at my accommodation, the Ayres Rock Hostel and Campground, with its beachfront location and genial hosts.

The next morning, I woke to a drizzly, foggy day. Sigh. Sanday is famous for its many long white shell beaches and turqoise water and I had imagined myself walking here in bright sunshine looking out to sparkling seas. I lingered in bed, and then lingered over breakfast, and then lingered over a blog post, but eventually it was time to head out as I had many places to see. Here is my bicycle parked in front of the hostel,

and here was my view as I started to pedal up a small hill (there are not many hills on Sanday and the highest point on the island is only 65 metres above sea level.) The morning was still misty/foggy, windy, and very cold!

I soon reached the interior portion of Kettletof Bay which is called the “Peedie Sea” – it is almost circular in shape and very shallow. This is the view looking straight out, with a receding tide,

and this is the view in my direction of travel towards the peninsula known as Els Ness to visit Quoyness, a chambered tomb similar in design to the famous Maeshowe on Mainland Orkney.

On the way I visited the ruins of Lady Kirk church – a large, roofless, and rather somber church dating from the 1770s.

Els Ness is a hammer-head-shaped peninsula connected to Sanday by a long narrow tombolo known as Quoy Ayre. It was fun to cycle along the tombolo on this track of hard packed sand.

At Els Ness, the sandy track turned to a grassy one so I parked my bicycle and continued on foot. I could see the mound of the Quoyness cairn on the horizon (towards the right in the photo below.)

This is a photo, zoomed in, as I neared the cairn. A couple had just visited and were heading towards me.

This is the Quoyness Chambered Cairn, a Neolithic tomb dating back to around 2,900 BC.

The entrance door and passage are very low at only 60 cm high and I literally had to crawl on hands and knees down the four metre-long passage (originally, the cairn entrance passage was roofed for its entire nine-metre length!). Inside the central chamber, the walls rise to almost four metres and angle inward as they rise. There are six side cells leading off of the central chamber and when first excavated in 1867 the skulls and bones from about 15 people were found in the tomb.

It was very special to be inside the cairn to marvel again at the efforts that went into creating these homes for the deceased. Amazingly, there are eleven other mounds near to the Quoyness chambered cairn, and on the other side of the Els Ness peninsula there are at least 26 burial cairns, likely to be from the Bronze Age. Back outside I returned along the path and then enjoyed the cycle ride back along the tombolo. To the left is the Peedie Sea, and to the right is the beach of Sty Wick.

This is a view looking across the sands of the Peedie Sea towards a small collection of houses.

I headed that way, retracing my route around the large circular bay, and then visited Kettletof village with its pier and small harbour, post office, two hotels, and its excellent Craft Hub and Tea Shop where I stopped for a warming bowl of soup and to browse the wonderful collection of locally-made arts and crafts.

Next I cycled to Lady Village in the centre of the island to visit the Sanday Heritage Centre. Outside are the remains of the Meur Burnt Mound which was moved here and reconstructed by the community to protect it from being washed away by the sea at its original location. At this burnt mound stones were heated in a fire and placed in a large stone tank filled with water from a stone-lined well (left in the photo). The purpose of burnt mounds is uncertain but it is theorized that they could have possibly been used for cooking, bathing/sauna, brewing, wool production, leather production, or boat building.

Also on site at the Sanday Heritage Centre is their Croft Museum, set in a restored croft house and furnished as it would have been in the late 1800s/early 1900s.

Inside the Heritage Centre there were displays on farming, the sea, archaeology, and natural history, among others, and the staff member was very helpful and answered my many questions about the island including how to find the place where the Scar Viking Burial Boat was found. Armed with clear directions, I set off to cycle north up to Scar House, and then through a large farmyard to arrive at a dune overlooking this beach.

I sat for awhile at the top of the dune, had a snack, and contemplated whether I wanted to walk to the very end of the beach where the boat was found. I decided to descend onto the beach, walk a while, and see how I felt.

The beach was beautiful, with fresh seaweed sorted by the sea into two lovely rich colours,

and eye-catching bits of dry seaweed artistically arranged by Mother Nature (the most talented of all artists).

It was a spectacular beach, with a gorgeous sea, and I had it all to myself.

Or did I? I am quite sure that these are otter prints, and I saw many of them. Perhaps a few otters were watching me look for them?

I was not far from the end of the beach where, I was told, a simple wooden sign marks the place where the Viking burial boat was found. I was feeling tired, and I still had one more beach that I wanted to visit, so I decided to follow the otter prints up onto the dune (in case the otter happened to be there!) and then return to my bicycle. As I write this I regret not having gone that little bit further!

Next, I cycled up past fields and farms and a small loch to Whitemill Bay with its very long white shell beach. The distant rocky point, semi-obscured in the fog, is said to be a good place to spot seals.

Looking to the west, I should have been able to see two lighthouses over on the island of North Ronaldsay, and also the Riv Beacon which marks a shallow reef just offshore which is exposed only at low tide. Many shipwrecks have occurred on Sanday’s shores because of the island’s low profile, especially in foggy or dark, misty, or stormy weather.

I walked westward on the beach for a short distance, hoping to spot the beacon, and then I returned to the access trail back up and over the dune. On the other side, my bicycle stood, waiting for me patiently. When I had asked at the shop whether there was a lock included with the electric bike, they said, “Not to worry, we don’t have theft here.”

I cycled home to my hostel, tired but happy. Despite the weather, it had been a very good day on a very beautiful island. My recommendation, if you ever wish to visit Sanday, would be to spend at least a week here. Again, stay at least a week…

Happy Summer Solstice everyone! I am writing this on June 20th in Lerwick, Shetland, and as soon as it is published I plan to head down to the Mareel, a modern performing arts venue, where tonight is “Singer Songwriter Night”. It is free to attend, and drinks are available to purchase so I’ll raise a glass of cider in honour of the Solstice and think about family and friends at home. Today in Shetland, at around 60 degrees North, the sun rose at 03:38 and will set at 22:34, but in the hours between sunset and tomorrow’s sunrise it will not get very dark. They call it, “da simmer dim” which translates as “the twilight of a Shetland summer evening.” Love and good cheer to all.

Orkney and Shetland, June 2024

A Perfect Day on Westray and Papa Westray – Castle o’Burrian Puffins, The World’s Shortest Commercial Air Flight, Papa Westray Coastal Walk, Knap of Howar, and More Puffins!

On Westray I had contacted Westraak Tours, a local company, hoping to join one of their evening puffin watching tours at a sea stack known as Castle o’Burrian. They weren’t running those tours on my dates but offered to take me there for a morning visit on their way to the ferry to pick up clients, and then after about an hour of viewing they could take me north to the airport which was perfect as I was taking a flight to Papa Westray.

It was an easy walk, first past a large 19th century water mill that used to grind bere and oatmeal, and then along a pleasant path lined with flowers. It was a surprisingly calm morning with just the slightest breeze so I was able to photograph some white sea campion and two varieties of red campion, a dark pink and a very pale pink.

It was just a short distance to reach the sea stack and, having been warned that the puffins might all be out at sea, I felt very lucky indeed to see puffins flying in and landing on the rock shelves and turf, as well as popping into and out of burrows. Please click on any photo for an enlargement – they are such appealing birds!

Here is one photo of a charming fellow (or Miss) that I have enlarged for a closer view.

I had the entire place to myself for about a half hour before the small Westraak group joined me, and it was wonderful to sit quietly alone and watch the puffins.

Then, it was north to Westray’s small airfield and into an 8-seater Logan Air plane for the shortest commercial flight in the world from Westray to neighbouring Papa Westray, a flight of only about two minutes. Mine was two minutes and five seconds – it says so on my certificate!

It was a very short but exciting flight and little did I know I would do it again the following day as a stop on my flight from Westray to Kirkwall. We landed perfectly on Papa Westray and I headed south down the island’s main road to the very large collection of farm buildings, some dating from the late 17th century, that belong to the steading of Holland.

This working farm once owned the entire island of Papa Westray, as well as land on Westray and Mainland. They have a small Bothy Museum, open to visitors, that is filled with historic items typical of a small early 19th century farm dwelling.

From there I walked about a half mile to the west coast of the island to view the Knap of Howar, which are the oldest Neolithic buildings to be found in northwestern Europe. The dwellings were occupied from 3700 BC to 2800 BC and are very well preserved. The two connected homes are similar to those found at Skara Brae, with low entrance doors facing the sea, central hearths, storage cupboards, stone slab partitions, and bed areas. It was magnificent to view the site, to enter through the low front doors and walk through the space, and to crawl through the low tunnel that connects the two dwellings. I felt very privileged and happy to be there.

I was also happy to begin walking up the coast. It was a beautiful day! The wind was much calmer than on previous days, and although the sky was hazy not one drop of rain fell all day. Papa Westray is a small island, only four miles long by one mile wide, and a coastal trail of about eleven miles goes all the way around the island. My plan was to travel a short ways north to reach an early Norse church, and then cross over to the east side of the island to visit its white shell beaches and then walk south to the ferry terminal. The trail along the grass and beside the sea was well defined and wonderfully scenic. There were enticing views of the coast ahead, the splash of waves on the shore, and lovely cattle and their calves in the fields to my right. What a glorious place to walk!

I soon arrived at St Boniface Kirk which dates to the 12th century (as St Olav’s Kirk), and was built on the site of an 8th century church. It is one of the few churches that survived the Reformation and is still in use today. It was abandoned in 1929 but then restored in 1993. The interior was pleasingly sparse and very peaceful, with a bouquet of fresh flowers adding a touch of colour to the space.

I had planned to head back to the main road from the church but the walking was so wonderful that I just kept on going. I soon left the church behind,

and here is a view, some time later, looking forward and inland (zoomed in) to the RSPB North Hill Reserve bird viewing building. That was my new destination!

I started to climb towards it across the heath but many gulls rose up around me to complain about my presence. I persisted and walked a bit further, but then I saw a toddler-aged (in bird years), round and fuzzy gray chick awkwardly running away at speed. Oops! So sorry! I apologized to the birds, turned around, and quickly walked away as non-threateningly as I could! (I imagined that there might be some serious birders up in the building “tsk, tsking” as they watched me scuttle away!)

Back at the shore, I returned down the coast to the church and from there walked inland to the main road. I walked past the airfield back to Holland Farm, and then turned to walk towards the east coast of the island. Here I passed the health centre, a small school and playground, the community shop, and a really wonderful hostel. I truly wished that I had several days to be here on the island instead of just one.

I reached the east coast of the island and arrived at this splendid white shell beach with other beaches visible in the far distance.

Across the water was a small islet called the Holm of Papa Westray. The distinctive shape of its chambered cairn is clearly visible. Boat rides can be arranged to view the cairn which has a twenty metre long central passage with twelve side chambers, and it apparently houses a collection of Neolithic artwork.

I turned to the south and headed off down the grassy path towards a lovely old farmhouse,

and shortly afterwards I stopped to look inland and out over the Loch of St Tredwell. A small peninsula reaches out into this loch and there one can find the remains of a late medieval church, St Tredwell’s Chapel, built atop a conical mound of Iron Age remains. The chapel was a pilgrimage centre and was associated with miraculous cures, especially for eye problems. I had planned to walk out to the site but missed seeing the side trail that leads out onto the peninsula.

From here I continued along on the path, walking past many curved stony beaches, dark rock outcroppings, and the remains of old crofts. There were also lovely wildflowers to photograph, including one newly-met – the lavender star-shaped flowers are called Spring Squill.

I finally stopped for a rest and a snack at one steeply-sided beach and scanned the shore, hoping for a glimpse of an otter.

I was not lucky, but I did have a surprising and rather unusual wildlife experience a little later, just beyond this fence and stile where I had stopped to photograph the think curling lichen that covered the stones (it is known as Sea Ivory).

As I was taking the above photos, several fulmars soared by rather close but I was used to this. Then, when I stepped up and over the stile, at first I didn’t notice the fulmar sitting on her nest just below. She coughed up and ejected a copious amount of bright orange fluid towards me. Thank goodness it didn’t reach as it is apparently very oily, sticky, and foul-smelling.

She was getting ready to do it again so I had to leap off of the stile backwards away from her! As I moved away, I saw that there were multiple fulmars nesting on the south side of the stone fence. Again, I apologized for causing a disturbance!

I continued on down the coast enjoying my best day of walking so far – it was warm enough to take off my rain jacket! In the distance, I saw the silhouette of some birds that I immediately knew were shags.

Look at these two!

I’ve enlarged the next photo so it is not in great focus, but you can just see the lovely dark coppery-green sheen on the plumage. The bright yellow feathers on its cheek are below its bottle-green eye.

I was so busy watching the shags that it took me a few moments to notice the puffins on a nearby ledge!

Here is one enlarged image.

I had plenty of time before the next ferry back to Westray so I watched them for a long time before finally moving on. I was nearing the south end of the island and felt quite replete with all that I had seen. I thought that Papa Westray had shown me plenty of beautiful sites and then I turned a corner to this stunning view across a flowery field of the pier and a white sand beach beyond.

How beautiful!

I walked out to the end of the pier,

to photograph the white shell beach across the way,

and then found a spot on the rocks out of the wind which by now had grown stronger and cold. I ate a very late lunch,

and watched a trio of eider ducks and then an oyster catcher feeding in the shallows. Thankfully these were birds that I didn’t disturb!

It had been a magnificent day, actually a quite perfect day, on Westray and Papa Westray. Thank you Orkney Islands!