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!