Stronsay - 16/09/04

It's a chilly morning, which I spend going down to the visitor centreat Tormiston Mill. This relates to the burial mound at Maeshowe. Itwould have been posssible to actually go into the burial chamber, but Ihave to be back in Kirkwall on time to pick up my rucksack, do theshopping and jump on the ferry to Stronsay. The tours to maeshowe setoff at fixed times, and I can't make it for the bus. So, I just potterabout the mill, then head back on the bus to Kirkwall. After theshopping, I pick up my pack and head for the ferry. This leaves at 4pm, and makes for Eday first. A fishfarm is tied up near the pierthere. After all the cars and vehicles have gone off and on, we headeast for Stronsay. The ferry has to make some manoeuvres to negotiatesafely into the berth. There is a colony of monks on Papa Stronsay, andseveral of them travel on the ferry. They are easily identified, cladin black robes and cowls. After docking at Whitehouse Village, themonks carry on by boarding a separate vessel for Papa Stronsay. Thisisland lies across the bay. Currently, several new cells are underconstruction there, one for each monk. I head off the pier, and when Iturn right, I'm at the hostel. The door is closed, so I report to thechipshop nextdoors. I'm ushered into the hostel, which is cold, bare tothe Nth degree and not comfortable. By the grace of God I am allowed toswitch on the heating. The kitchen is the barest of bare, although oneof the cupboards is chockablock with ingredients for baking. After Iheat up my stuff, I have to drag in a chair from the dorm to sit downat the table. Christ! After supper, I settle down in the dorm, which isnot very spacious. Later in the evening, I flee the cold and gloom forthe hotelbar across the road. By that time it's started to rain. Have anice chat with various locals who say they're short of a GP. Wrongprofession. Spend a very pleasant two hours there, and am sorry to haveto leave at closing time. On return across the road, I manage to get ahot shower, then turn in for the night.

Weblink: http://www.stronsay.co.uk

Sanday - 15/09/04

Am due to return to Kirkwall this evening, but still have all day foran extensive walk. Set off at 10 o'clock in a bitingly cold wind,blowing in straight from the Arctic. Walk up the road, parallel tothe shore and come out at Newbiggings on the B9068 to Burness. Crossover into a farm access road and traverse a field. The track gets evermore difficult to follow, as it leads through nettles and brambles.Manage to regain the road along the airfield and head west, past theschool to the junction with the road to Kettletoft, the location of theold ferry terminal. Turn north for about 150 yards, then head westagain alon gthe B9070 past Bea Loch. have a look round the buildings byWaterhall Jetty. Walk back along the road past Ayers Rock at 11.30, andnow I unsuccessfully try to make my way back to Westbrough. I'm surethe local cattle appreciated my attentions, but I had to double back tothe B9068. Head WSW along the banks of Lamaness Firth, and circle thebanks of it through the new houses at Colligarth. A track veers offinto some dunes at Colli Ness, which is where I stay for my lunch. Thisis disturbed at regular intervals by the local cattleherd, whichstampedes off when I get fed up with them and shout at the dumbcreatures. At 2.30, I head into Lady village and pop into theconvenience stores for some bits. I then head further east into a sideroad that passes through a cluster of houses. Typically disorganised -goats, pigs, cats all over the road. I once more head into the shoresof Otterswick for a cuppa, then head back for Ayers Rock. This goesback along the airfield and through a shortcut by the school atBroughtown. Have to wait for a wee while for the minibus to turn up at4.40. It goes into Kettletoft first, then heads down the island's mainroad to the ferrypier at Loth. At Warsetter, cows have jumped over thefence into the road. Nice landscape of dunes around here - someone isbuilding a house. Arrive at Loth in good time for the ferry. Thisleaves at 6.10 pm, taking me back to KW in 2 hours. It's an uneventfuljourney. On arrival there, dusk is falling. The YH still has a placefor me, after I've been and done my shopping at Safeways.

Scapa and Sanday - 14/09/04

Start the day by booking my accommodation in Sanday, which will be at the Ayers Rock hostel. Then head into town for some purchases, such as a scarf, woolly hat and gloves. It's getting decidedly chilly now, although it's only mid September. Walk down the road to Old Scapa. it's brilliantly sunny. The main road to Orphir veers off after a little way, but a narrow single-track affair leads on to the shore at Scapa Flow. Sit in the sun on the retaining wall looking south to the hills on Flotta, South Ronaldsay and Hoy. Walk on to the Coastguard Station, where a memorial plaque indicates that HMS Ark Royal was sunk not far off-shore in October 1939, with the loss of 800 souls after being torpedoed by a German submarine. A simple green buoy marks the location of the wreck. Proceed round the bay towards the pier, but cannot reach it - restricted area. People are walking their dogs on the shore road as I return to the Youth Hostel. Later that afternoon, I disappear on the ferry to Sanday. It's a fairly sunny day. North of Shapinsay, the ferry branches off northeast at the Galt Skerry buoy. We head north of Shapinsay and south of Muckle Green Holm. The latter is a small island, with a ruined house on it. We end up in a rough piece of water south of Eday, then head NNE for the Loth terminal on Sanday. As I leave the ferry, the zips collapse on my rucksack and the contents spill out onto the slipway. Fortunately, the raincover keeps everything inside, but the minibus driver gets a bit ratty with me. Well, I can't help it, can I? I heave everything into the minibus, anger the driver even more by not having the exact far and get dropped off outside Ayers Rock at around 6. The lady of the house shows me round to the converted byre, where I'm the only guest. There are 2 or 3 dorms, a bathroom and a very cramped kitchen. Once I've laid out my wares, I proceed to the kitchen for supper. Cannot open my cans, because there is no can-opener about. So, I have to knock up the proprietrix for that item. Later in the evening, I can use the internet for a bit. It's windy outside.

Pictures

Return to Kirkwall - 13/09/04

After some gentle ambling around in the morning, a little way up the road &c, we are transferred to the airfield at 4 pm. The survey vehicle for the airstrip has a door missing, which means that the driver will have to wear waterproofs at all times. have a natter with other passengers who await the plane. Some of them have come up this morning just for a daytrip. The plane turns up on time, everybody and everything gets hoisted inside. Say good-bye to the hosts at NRBO. The door closes, pilot turns round and says: "Have we all had a nice day? OK. Are we all strapped in? Let's head back to Kirkwall". Which we duly do. It's a nice afternoon, as we cross Sanday, pass between Stronsay and Shapinsay to land at Kirkwall at 4.50. The airport bus drops us off in town outside St Magnus, where my partner hails one of her taxi-driver acquaintances. He brings us up the Old Scapa Road where a bed has been organised for me. The Canadian Indians are still about in the hostel. Later that evening, I'm shown a shortcut to the Safeways supermarket on Pickaquoy Road, a Co-op is located up the road.

North Ronaldsay - 12/09/04

The weather is absolutely foul this morning, pouring rain and a full gale. A fishing vessel is nonetheless out in the NR firth, between this island and Sanday to the south. As the day wears on, the weather relents somewhat. The wind drops to force 6, and the sun puts in an appearance every now and again. I venture out alone just before midday, and head north along the island's west coast. After just over an hour, I reach the northwestern cape at Tor Ness, and veer east. The wind is now in my back. Have some very awkward clambering to do outside Westness House, and things don't get any easier around Garso. I resume the main road at Garso and head back to NRBO, where I rejoin my partner. She's been having lunch in the restaurant. I've gotto have something as well. Later that day, have a look down at the pier, where we were supposed to have landed on Friday. It's got a very nice beach behind it, South Bay. Forgot to mention the standing stone and the loch at Gretchen to the north of the Observatory. Watch a movie with the family who run the centre, and have a beer. Start preparations for departure tomorrow. This hostel is actually quite nice, well kitted out and fairly modern for its size.

Pictures

North Ronaldsay - 11/09/04

Today dawned foggy, you can't see a thing. The clashing habits continue, god, women! After breakfast, we go out for a walk across the island. The fog slowly lifts as we proceed north past fields to the airfield. We resume the road for a little while, then head north. The murk lifts very, very slowly as we return south, branching left at the war memorial. Stop off for lunch at one of the island's two pubs. Get into a right old discussion with the landlady of the Burrian. The landlord has a jewelry workshop round the back, which I'm shown round. Have to go through some very untidy bedreooms. As a said before, the landlady is right into a subject (which I cannot remember - I'm writing this a year later). Her house is full of paper, and she's quite frustrated that she can't seem to get the other islanders on board with it. But when you start to call them 'stupid' for not going along with an idea, that is not going to be a guarantee for success. Carry on down the road leading south. The local school stands on a hill overlooking the main road. A bull is roaring in a field nearby. Reach the shoreline at Howar, and we carry on outside the NR sheepwall. A large colony of seals, with one large bull guarding his harem. The sheep dabble amongst the seals, eating the seaweed. Spend quite some time there, then slowly head east. It's tricky walking in this rocky terrain, and you've got to watch your footing. The sun comes out by 4 pm, as we're heading round the corner to Bride Ness. Here we work our way inland again, and head up the road towards Hollandstoun. As I've said at the time of my first visit here, on 8 September, I'm not impressed with the general state of the place. Return to NRBO before 5 pm. Have some fun with cats, dogs and other wildlife. After supper, we have a drink in the lounge bar at the observatory. Night has fallen on return at 10 pm. The other thing is that the main door into the dormitory is very low, so I manage to bang my head on the lintel at regular intervals. Oh, and I'm out and about now for a whole month.

Pictures

North Ronaldsay - 10/09/04

The North Ronaldsay ferry is scheduled to leave at 9.00 a.m.. Mr Eunson very kindly drops me off at the bank and the ferry terminal, at 8.20. You'd think that arriving 40 minutes ahead of departure time leaves you plenty of time. Nope. The quayside looks suspiciously empty, and there is this fast vanishing dot on the northern horizon, which is the ferry. We speak to the man in the Orkney Ferries shed, and he says that the ferry left as soon as everything and everybody that the skipper was expecting was on board. So he upped and left, 45 minutes early. This leaves me temporarily flummoxed. I hop on the airport bus from the bus station, and when I arrive there by 10 o'clock, my partner in travelling is already there. We book seats on the 4.50 plane, for just £12 return. We return to Kirkwall to lambast Orkney Ferries. She calls for the manager, and complains that she has had to forfeit a coupon on her all-islands travelcard. No problem. She gets two free returns to any of the North Isles for BOTH of us, although I just stood there, the manager concluded that I had also been financially inconvenienced. The company were in the wrong, and they knew it. We both went outside, walked up the street and fell about laughing. Two broad grins carried on through Kirkwall and went on a walk around the foreshore. Past the lifeboat station and the housing estate to the Bay of Weyland. Yesterday was very summery - today it's cold and grey. Carry on up the coast past Craigiefield, then head back into town. Next port of call is St Magnus Cathedral, where I'm plonked in a room to view a video presentation, whilst my partner yaps away to other folk. Right. Finally, after some shopping, we head back for the airport. The plane departs nice and on time, to deliver us to North Ronaldsay at 5 pm. A jeep is waiting to take us to the Bird Observatory, a mile to the south of the airfield. The hostel is a converted byre, two bunkbed rooms, a bathroom and kitchen. The lady and I seem to have conflicting habits in hostels, so that needs some sorting out. The NRBO also has B&B facilities, with a massive dining hall. This affords a magnificent view to the south and west. The managers have a playful dog. At the back of the garden lies a compost heap. A small windgenerator whirrs away, providing electricity.

Shapinsay - 09/09/04

I booked in with the Eunsons for two nights. Leave for the Shapinsay ferry with only a daysack. The boat goes at 10.45 and deposits a fair number of people on the island. I start off by taking a peep through the gates of Balfour Castle, only a hop down the road. Then I set forth down the village main street. Now, Balfour used to have a tidal loo. Everything you did in that wee hoosie would be washed away with the next high tide. Obvious disadvantage being the smell during low tide. Balfour main street is cobbled and lined with low houses, originally for servants at the castle. Outside the village, I catch up with a lady in a bright yellow jumper who is out on a daytrip herself. She is following the tourist guide. At one point, we pass a farm pond full of ducks and geese. At a church, we part company again, the lady goes to have a look inside the roofless building, whilst I carry on east. Opposite the road leading north to Haughland, I walk down to the shore at Haroldsgarth to have a cuppa. Look south across the water to Orkney Mainland. At 11.30 I continue up the road to the north and once again come across the lady in yellow. She is lying in the hay, watching two cows mounting each other. She expresses envy at their activities. I cannot suppress a few ribald comments on my part, and we carry on together. First of all, we go and have a look at the Mor Stein, a standing stone a little way off the road. We carry on north and 1 km further on turn left through farming country. A country road leads further north to Kirkton. There we cross west to the beach at Swartaquoy. It's quite warm and sunny as we head down to the sandy shore, with pebbles further back. Children are playing here and there. Other islands can be seen on the far northern horizon. After a lunchbreak and some paddling in the sea, we encoutner the piece de resistance: the Ouse. This is a tidal inlet with a very tricky crossing. Three wrecked cqars spoil the scenery. Further problems arise because of barbed wire. We head down a farmroad to a shop on the B9058 road at Astley Cottages. Treat ourselves to ice-cream. The road veers downhill towards Balfour. In the near distance, the valley of the Mill Dam Reserve looms up. This is a former loch, which is reduced to a wetland bog. Not much happening there in terms of wildlife. Back in the village, we have another icecream whilst waiting for the 4.45 ferry. The lawn off the pier is very pleasant for a spot of sunbathing. I get along fine with the lady, and ask her out for a meal on return to KW. She is more than happy to accept that. We natter our way to the town. Take her to a chinese place in one of the backstreets, which serves quite an acceptable meal. No, nothing else happens. We just got along fine. She invites me along to North Ronaldsay for the weekend, and who am I to decline? At 10 pm, we go our separate ways.

Pictures

North Ronaldsay - 08/09/04

Today's activities start with a search for new accommodation in Kirkwall. The TIC are very helpful and fix me up in an address at the eastern edge of the town. Have to go up the hill past Orkney College on to the Berstane Road. As the road rises, the view widens to the west and south. can see a large school complex to my right. It's a nice, sunny day today. I finally reach Viewfield Terrace and knock on the door of number 3, where mrs Eunson affords me a cordial welcome. Pleasant bungalow in a cul-de-sac. Get along very well with the Eunsons. After a cup of coffee I return to Kirkwall, more specifically the airport. There is a dedicated bus which runs hourly. At lunchtime, I report to the inter-island desk at the back of the lounge,. Yes, I can go out on a return to North Ronaldsay. I have a couple of hours. When the time comes, I'm shepherded to a small, 8 -seater Cessna. You need to be failry gymnastic to prize yourself on board. Once everybody is strapped in, the pilot joins us. It's a case of "Everybody strapped in? We all happy? Let's go". Safety brief? What's that? We taxi to the runway where we accellerate for take-off. The hills above Finstown loom up to the left, then we veer north-northeast over Kirkwall, along the east coast of Shapinsay. We fly at 400 feet, and in the brilliant afternoon sunshine the sandy bottom can be seen underneath bottle-green seas. After ten minutes, we pass straight over the airfield on the island of Sanday; can even read the sign on the airport hut. It's quite interesting to see the islands from above. For instance, the number of ruinous buildings is quite high. Presently, we lose height on the approach to North Ronaldsay, and we land on the grassy strip at Hollandstoun. I can walk straight off the airfield, others wait for their luggage to be unlaoded, which only takes a minute. I set off north along the main road, a single-track affair. The houses here look rather run-down, and the place has an air of neglect about it. All around the island a wall has been built designed to keep the sheep out. The NR sheep live off seaweed on the seashore. Veer right in the direction of the two lighthouses on the far eastern point of NR. Pass Park House. The lovely sandy beach of Linklet Bay can be seen stretching south. I finally end up by the Old Beacon on Dennis Head, ¼ mile south of the present lighthouse. I have a nibble on the very rocky foreshore, beyond the wall. A clutter of unhappy looking sheep are ferretting about among the shingle. Can't stay long, so I quickly head back. I take the side-road to Garso. After the farmhouse, the road degenerates into a path. A hillock looms up to my left - the sea a little way to my right. Follow the road through the 'settlement' of Anamtown, then head back to the airfield. Have a natter with the airport crew and other passengers, until the plane reappears. The flight back is uneventful. I had a strange encounter at the airport in Kirkwall. Having collected my bags, I walked outside and noticed the hosteller from Papa Westray who was going to stay there for a month. Well, it's only 5 days down the line, so he never lasted. After the morning mists, the sun has come out at lunchtime. had supper in KW, then went to a lack-lustre ceilidh, which was connected with the science festival. I managed to keep my eyes open until 11.30. On return to Viewfield, I walked up the Berstane Road to encounter several cats out on the prowl. On erolled in the grass, wanting me to tickle her tummy and following me. The other sat on a wall and I snapped it with a camera. Had quite a pleasant chat with the Eunsons before retiring for the night.

Pictures

Back to Kirkwall - 07/09/04

Today, I'll be leaving Shetland to return to Orkney. At breakfast, I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a South African lady who is touring Scotland. She is going to Mousa Broch today. After flapping about in town for a bit, I jump on the bus to Sumburgh at 12, together with the SA lady. She gets off at the top of the hill from Mousa; I carry on to the airport. Plane not due to leave until 3.30, so I go for a walk round the airport. It's a pleasantly sunny day. Leave the terminal and turn right, past the end of the runway and on to a beach. A RIB is launched as I'm sitting in the dunes. Nearby is the Viking site of Jarlshof, which is comparable to Skara Brae in Orkney, but not as old. A boat leaves from Sumburgh to Foula. At length, I return to the airport to wait. YAWN. We finally, finally take off at 4pm, to arrive in Kirkwall at 5. I'm delivered outside the YH by the airport bus, but now there is no bed for me. Didn't book it. Try the B&B across the road, but no luck. Hobble into town and seated outside St Magnus I start to ring round. The St Ola hotel on the harbour still has a room. For £34 I get a posh, high-ceilinged, en-suite poo-poo room. Don't do a lot for the rest of the evening.

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Cycleride - 06/09/04

I start by going to the post-office, to the baker's for lunch and the hairdresser's. All in Commercial Street. Another sunny day, so I decide to go out on a rented bike. There is a bike and car rental place up the road, and I'm duly issued with a mountainbike for £7 for the whole day. At 11.30, I head out south down the A970. In a car, you don't really notice the inclines. On a bike you do. After the Clickimin roundabout, I'm pretty quickly puffed out. I follow the same route as yesterday, and head out towards Scalloway, 6 miles to the west. Just before the junction at the far end of the B9073, I take a wee breather. Then I go down that long and steep hill towards the Tingwall valley. Nice viewpoint about 1/3 way down. I'm not really happy to go thundering downhill, but I do manage to get to the bottom without mishap. Go uphill into Scalloway and ride around the harbour. Return to the far end of town, where I head south down the road towards Burra. It's getting fairly warm - sun is beating down. After a mild incline, the road veers west to cross a narrow bridge. Once vehicle can cross it at a time. After another short break on the far side, I press on and finally arrive into Hamnavoe. I proceed through the village. I'm now 10 miles from Lerwick and 4 south of Scalloway. It's 1 pm, so I've done well. Nip into the shop for some bits, then sit down at the harbour to eat lunch. Nice views to other islands. At 1.30, I head back up the hill and run into a funeral procession that is just setting off from the church. Turn off to the right at the roundabout and head down to another beach. Park the bike at the toilets and wander down the path. Several people on the beach. I proceed past the beach and up the hill. Path leads a little further, but I'm happy just to sit and enjoy the sun. At 3 pm, I head back to Scalloway. Just before the town, I go into the Tingwall valley, which I ride along its full length. In the village at the other end, I dive into the pub. It takes a while for a bartender to appear, but that pint of coke went down a treat. Had a chat with some of the locals, them jumped on the bike again to labour uphill to join the A970 back to Lerwick. By now it's 4.30 and very warm. This road is the arterial route through Shetland and I have cars, lorries and motorbikes flying round my ears. The orad is on a relentless downward slope to veer around a valley a 2km descent. At the bottom, the sideroad to Scalloway veers off south, but the A970 veers round the head of the valley and goes uphill again. The incline beats me, so I'm reduced to walking the bike up the hill. It is so warm and I'm perishing with thirst. Toil up the hill, then bomb down it on the far side, racing into the Lerwick rush-hour at quite some speed. A long line of cars waits at a roundabout; it's 5.30 and all are trying to get hoome. I deposit the bike at the shop and head into town for supper.

Pictures

Bressay and Shetland tour - 05/09/04

Lerwick is deserted on Sunday morning. Go up Charlotte Street, come out by the Town Hall and the Museum at the top of the hill. It's 10 a.m., but nothing stirs. Return to the town centre to go on the first ferry of the day to Bressay. It drops me off there just before 11, giving me about an hour to hare round the island. From Bressay, you can actually cross to the nature reserve at Noss, but I won't have time for that. My tour starts at 1 pm. Walk down the shore road to the school and shop, then proceed to the little housing estate at Glebe. From here, a track winds uphill to the summit of the Ward of Bressay. Because of time-constraints, I can't go quite to the summit, so I turn back. Walk back to the pier via the Gunnista Road. Hop on the ferry and am back in Lerwick at 12.20. Have something like lunch in a takeaway bar at the harbour and eat it on a bench in the bright sunlight. A very large, yellow fishing boat from Whalsay is in port. Report to the TIC at 1 pm, where a pleasant lady, Sarah, is ready with her minibus for today's tour. We set off, with a compliment of 8, down the A970 to Hollander Knowe, from where the B9073 provides a shortcut through to Scalloway. This has the ruins of a castle. Scalloway used to be capital of shetland. We continue north, through the valley of Tingwall. This means Valley of the Althing, the old viking parliament. Nowadays there is the Asta golf-course. On the island at the northern end of Loch of Tingwall, called Law Ting Holm, judgement would be passed in the Viking era. If the culprit managed to outrun his executors and the rest of the crowd (who were all at license to carry out any death sentence) and reach the church, he would be safe. We proceed past Tingwall Airport up the A971 to a long stretched-out series of settlements on the Weisdale Voe. At the top of the Voe, we carry on north to Kergord, which has the only woods in the whole of Shetland. This is latitude 60°N. We rejoin the A970 and carry on to Voe village. We leave the A968, which branches off to the Yell ferry, to our right and carry on along the shore of Olna Firth to Brae. Just over a mile to the west lies Mavis Grind. That is not a female, but a narrow isthmus. To the west lies the Atlantic, off Mangaster Voe, to the east the North Sea, from Sullom Voe. The oil terminal at Sullom Voe is situated 6 miles to the northeast, but this complex is clearly visible. Oil has brought wealth to Shetland. For every barrel of oil that passed through Sullom Voe, Shetland Council would receive 1p. To date, this has amassed to a staggering £1,000 million pounds! Carry on north for another 6 miles, then fork west in the direction of Hillswick and Eshaness. Visibility is poor today; Foula nor Papa Stour are visible to the south and west. We go north briefly to Ronas Voe. This is a spectacular Shetland Ffjord, over which Ronas Hill towers at 450 m / 1500 feet. We alight from the minbus and enjoy the vista. Clouds clear from the summit of the mountain. Next port of call is Eshaness Lighthouse, about 7.5 miles to the west. This is situated amidst some spectacular coastal scenery, resulting from dramatic coastal erosion. The lighthouse is automated, but the outbuildings are occupied by a writer. She has just left for the winter. Out to the south sits Dore Holm, a natural arch that looks liek a crouching elephant. Finally, after about half an hour of looking round, we toddle off to a museum at Tangwick, which shows life in Shetland in times gone by. At 4 pm, we drive off under a glazing sky, back down the 35 miles to Lerwick. Shetland is bigger than you'd think from the map. We're overtaking by a motorcyclist who tops 100 mph. The descent into Lerwick is down a very long and steep hill. One of our group gets dropped off at the ferry terminal to go on the 7 pm ferry, the rest in Market Square. I dawdle around for the next piece of excitement: a trip in a replica Viking Boat, the Dim Riv. At 7pm, a group of seven are issued with life jackets and we board the boat. We motor into the haroubr, until we're abreast of the ferry terminal. There we cut the engine, and the sail is raised. Slight problem: we have wind force zero this evening. Oh, we do make headway tonight, but that's the tide carrying us south. I've been told that this boat has been as far as Dublin. She can be rowed, but us poor tourists are spared that ordeal. Once abreast of the harbour, we allow a skiff with 8 rowers to go in first, before we motor into port at 8pm. Go to the Queen Hotel for supper. They take their leisure at serving, but ok, it does come.

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To Shetland - 04/09/04

Last night, I booked a weekend trip to Shetland by plane. I head out to Sumburgh Airport at around 1pm, to return on Tuesday afternoon. There is a dedicated airport bus, which I join at midday outside St Magnus' Cathedral in Kirkwall. It's a large red minibus, low floor access. It's £2 single and £3 return, the return being valid for a month. On arrival at KW airport, I check in and proceed with my pet-hate: wiating in an airport departure lounge. Finally, well past departure time, we're called to go into the plane. It's turboprop affair with 133 seats and one stewardees. I sit behind the engine/ wing. The doors are closed, the emergency drill rattled off and the propellors start up. Finally, they begin to buzz like a swarm of angry wasps and we move off the stand an donto the runway. The buzz rises to a crescendo on take-off. We rise above Orkney Mainland and head northeast. I sit on the righthand side of the plane and am therefore deprived of the view over the North Isles. In only see Fair Isle from 6,000 feet up. At length, we commence the descent. Prior to departure, we were issued with weather letters by Loganair. These are a notification that weather conditions at Sumburgh may make landing impossible and that the flight stands to be delayed or cancelled. By the time we reach Sumburgh, the fog has lifted. We descended to very low over the sea, then the runway appeared and the plane slowed, landed and went right up to the terminal building. With the time at 3pm, I marched up to the busstop, only to find that the next bus into Lerwick won't be until 5.30. I return to the terminal, buy some info and decide to shell out on a taxi: £32! However, I need to be in Lerwick before the TIC closes. I did not book accommodation in advance. The taxi driver takes me up the A970 to Shetland's capital. He tells me all manner of stories of local interest. At Cunningsburgh, the hills are bare rock, stripped of their layer of peat last year. A period of drought had dried out the peat, which was duly washed down the hill in a torrential downpour. The road went as well. Finally arrive into Lerwick at 4pm. I'm dropped off outside the TIC in Market Cross, in the middle of the town. Join the Q to book accommodation. I am referred to Fort Charlotte Guesthouse, on Charlotte Street, further up the town. I also book a guided tour for tomorrow, Sunday, which will take me round Mainland Shetland. After a stint on the Internet at the TIC, I go to Charlotte Street. Have to walk the length fo Commercial Street. This is the main commercial centre, paved with slabs and open to all traffic. I'm met at 1 Charlotte Street by proprietor Jim, who shows me to my room, no 5, on the topfloor. Small but comfortable room. Jim owns a fish & chips shop where I go to have my supper a bit later. Proceed on a walk round the town, to Fort Charlotte. This is a Territorial Army base. Return along the seafront, where some Scandinavian style buildings line the haroubr. Shetland considers itself to be more Viking than Scots, and Lerwick looks faintly Scandinavian. There are no highrise buildings. Have a portion of fish & chips at Jim's shop, which I consum on a bench by the harbour. Then I head out along Commercial Street, past the Market Cross and up the hill. Walk round the peninsula of the Knab, past Breiwick and the local cemetery. Nice views over the outlying housing estates of Lerwick, and south along the ocast. The return takes me high above the sound bdetween Lerwick and the island of Bressay. I head down the hill through another housing estate and reappear in Commercial Street. On return to Charlotte Street, I spend the rest of the evening watching telly.

Friday 03/09/04 - Papa Westray

The day dawned nice and sunny, but that wasn't to last. I set forth at 8.45, with Paul joining me as far as the airfield, carrying his coffeemug with him. Jeez. The plane comes and goes. We pop into the waiting-room at the airport, where I put my waterproofs on. Paul returns to the hostel, whilst I continue to the coast. The rain starts gradually, intensifying as I go. After a lot of bother with fences near the seashore, I reach my first reference point, St Boniface Church, at 10 a.m. It is dedicated to a man who was murdered in 754 AD at Dokkum in Holland. Have a look at http://www.papawestray.co.uk/papay/pw_official6.html. The church was rebuilt by the local community and taken back into service in 1990. Very small but pleasant building. I leave with a certain reluctance, partially due to the awful weather. I carry on north and finally reach the perimeter fence of a nature reserve at the northern end of Papay. The birds left several weeks ago, and I find myself trudging a sodden moor. The coastline veers round to the east. As I'm holding a high contour, I'm not presented with awkward surprises. Reach the northern cape at 11.15 and proceed south. Encounter two people on my way past various geos and cliffs, finally regaining civilisation at 12.30. The rain is beginning to let off as I make my way south. Not quite sure whether to stay high up or low down, I stick to height. I end up getting zapped by an electric fence before regaining the road. Return to the hostel at lunchtime. Just before the hostel are the local school plus health centre. Behind the hostel, in the same building, is the shop. They open at 3 today, rather than the usual 2.30. Some of the island ladies complain bitterly, particularly as someone had to come from afar. Yep, this island measures 6 km north to south, longest road distance 4 km. Having obtained my shopping in the confined space of the shop, I walk round to the other side of the building. Gather up my stuff from the hostel and start walking towards the ferrypier. Only a few hundred yards outside Holland Farm, the hostel warden pulls alongside to offer me a lift to the pier. I arrive there at 4.15, a wee bit early. Golden Mariana appears at 5 o'clock, to take me back to Pierowall in the statutory 23 minutes. The connecting bus returns me to the ferryterminal at the far end of Westray. A chilly wind blows, so I wait on the bus for the ferry to turn up. Thereturn trip to Kirkwall is uneventful, and we reach the town before nightfall. I manage to get a place at the youth hostel. There are some unusual guests in. As I'm heating my food, a gentleman who looks like (and actually is) an American Indian lights the hob on the next stove. He takes out a handdrum, about 30 cm across, and holds it over the flames. Concerned, and inquisitive, I ask him why he is doing that. "Oh, the drum is very moist it I need to dry it". The man is a member of a large group of Canadian Cree Indians who have come to Orkney to investigate their roots. In the 19th century, groups of men from Orkney emigrated to Canada. Some of them married native girls and the descendants have come back now. They are decked outin full regalia, as part of the Kirkwall Science Festival this month. They give performances of traditional dances in venues around Kirkwall over the next 2 weeks. Meals are provided by local ladies who cook in the hostel kitchen. The group are nice enough, but a little inconsiderate. If they want to go out, they do so through the nearest door. Even it's alarmed. At 7 in the morning, they start to sing and beat their drums, to the annoyance of other hostellers.

Pictures

Thursday 02/09/04 - Monuments and Papa Westray

After breakfast, I head into Kirkwall to go on the n° 8 bus. This is a tourist service, on one of its last runs of the seasons. We head down the Stromness road past Finstown, and turn off just before Brig o'Waithe to visit the first of a number of ancient sites: the Stones of Stenness, a hop and a step from the junction. These stones, only 4 of them, stand in a circle in alignment with Ward Hill on Hoy. At the winter solstice, the sun sets behind Ward Hill when viewed from that circle. The sheep within the circle were oblivious to that. When the allotted 15 minutes were up, we were herded on board the wee bus and transported a mile up the road to the Ring of Brodgar. This is a much larger monument, consisting of a circle of about thirty stones. One had been split in two by a lightning strike in June 1980. A sort-of heelstone stands to the southeast, and another stone is set apart to the northwest. We were allowed about 30 minutes to roam the circle, diameter 100 m, before rejoining the bus. Fairly sunny today. Next stop is the very ancient site of Skara Brae, on the west coast of Mainland, 6 miles north of Stromness. It dates back 5,500 years, and consists of a number of homesteads. Before I visit the actual excavations, I have to buy some maps and a cup of tea in the Visitor Centre. Also a disposable camera. Adjacent to the centre, there is a replica homestead from that era. It's very low, doorways only 4 feet high - I'm 6 feet! Interesting. Walked out along a path which was a walk back through time. From the present 2004 AD it went back to 3500 BC. Informations officers were at hand to explain. The homesteads are protected from encroachment by the sea by a strong seawall. It was erosion that caused them to be exposed in the first place. Some bits were already lost to the sea. After Skara Brae, I went on to nearby Skaill House, a former residence to the bishopric of Orkney. It contrasts sharply with the nearby ancient site. By the time I'm finished, I pick up my rucksack and head back to the bus. This returns me to Kirkwall via the other two site, which I don't really bother getting back into. The Ring is more intensively visited, and there is a coachparty of Dutch wrinklies at Stenness. They are herded off and on the Orkney buses coach. We head past Tormiston Mill and Maeshowe to Kirkwall. Do my bit of shopping for the next day and a bit, then head for the ferry terminal. You can't buy tickets ashore, they are sold on board the ferry. My ferry goes to Westray direct. You board via the vehicle ramp, leave your luggage in the locker on the vehicle deck, accept a boardingcard and head upstairs. It's a bit blustery today, so I position myself on the starboard (righthand) deck, well covered. We set off north past Shapinsay, which I first visited in 1990. See the quaint shape of Balfour Castle slowly moving out of sight. St Magnus, a conspicuous shape on the Kirkwall skyline, slowly recedes behind the vessel. We go closely inshore, halfway up the westcoast of Shapinsay, this to avoid a shallows. The ferry blows its horn at a party of walkers on shore, who are practically within hailing distance. Off the northwestern cape of Shapinsay, we can see several northern isles, as we pass the buoy for Galt Skerry. To the east lies an island with a few windturbines, which is Stronsay. To the northeast rise the barren moors on Eday. Eday's ferryterminal is on the far (that is: eastern) side of the island. Off its southern cape, the tides meet from about four different directions, so it gets very lively. The ferry sails the length of Eday's western shore, which show only a few houses. About halfway up, we encounter a stretch of very choppy waters, with many white riders. Past the north end lies Faray, which is uninhabited. At 6 o'clock, we are 'suddenly' at Rapness, the ferry terminal for Westray. I disembark and try to locate the minibus that is to take me to the next ferry, which departs from Pierowall, 7 miles to the north. Squeeze all my stuff on board and shell out £2 for the trip. We hare down a very straight but quite bumpy road. past an austere looking church and into Pierowall. We circle the bay and finally arrive on the quayside. My next transport, the Golden Mariana, is already waiting, and as soon as I'm on board, the crew cast off. Have a chat to the master and mate beforehand. We set off at 6.50 for the 23-minute crossing. Although it was bumpy on the way in from Kirkwall, the sound between Westray and Papa Westray is not too bad. At 7.13, we tie up alongside the quay at Papa Westray - which I'll refer to as Papay from this point onwards. I make an awkward step to the stairs, and am met at the top by the genial warden of the youth hostel at Holland. We drive there at a rate of knots, and duly arrive at Beltane House at 7.30 There is this cat, a beautiful ginger tom and a blackbird which always wants to go inside. The bird isn't allowed in, because once inside it suffers a panic attackand defaecates all over the place. Beltane is part youth hostel, part B&B. It has two dorms, one of which already has someone in it. This is a chap who tells me he's there for a month to watch birds. Hmm. It's September, not much to be seen in terms of birds. The kitchen is pokey and poorly equipped as far as pans and cutlery is concerned. I manage to cut myself on the baked-beans can, as a result of that crappy can-opener. Have my meal in Paul's company. Weird fellow. The concepts of table manners and proper food (:-x see my baked beans) are beyond him. I take myself off on a walk after supper and head down the road in an easterly direction. It's getting dark at 8.30, and I can see a lighthouse winking away to the east. This should be either North Ronaldsay or Sanday. I go as far as the shore, where I find a small harbour with some ruinous boats pulled up beyond the slipway. Carry on up the road parallel to the shore, and listen to the waves lapping on the shore behind the dunes. Return the way I came and head back to Beltane, where not much is happening.

Pictures

To Orkney - 01/09/04

Said good-bye to Jess after breakfast. Train is supposed to leave at 9.47, according to the timetable. On arrival at the station a group of men are weeding the platforms and flowerbeds. The clock in the war memorial, where I had a look before going to the station, strikes 9.45. No train. At 10 o'clock, I ring the train control centre about my train. This is running 47 minutes late. Wow. The train, when it finally materialises at 10.40, is the same set of carriages that had problems at Dingwall yesterday. Passengers for the Orkney ferry are getting concerned about their connection at Thurso. Whilst we pass through the empty moorlands at Kinbrace and Forsinard, the conductor tries to sort something out. We arrive at Georgemas Jct at 11.20. Ferry passengers are asked to change into a bus, which is waiting outside the station. Arrangements were poorly made and fall to pieces. Initially, the driver is only goin gto deliver us to Thurso railway station. Furious exchanges by telephone ensure that we are taken right to the ferry terminal at Scrabster. We duly arrive there at 11.50. Too late. Although the ferry is not due to leave until 12.00, we are not allowed on board because safety procedures have to be carried out prior to departure. They require everybody to be on board 15 minutes before advertised sailing time. This would have left us stranded for 7 hours, if it hadn't been for a lady kicking a fuss. This resulted in a taxi, paid by the traincompany, taking us to the ferry terminal at Gills Bay, 3 miles west of John o'Groats. Two taxis took 6 passengers up the ocast. My taxi deviates into the countryside to drop an elderly lady off at her house. We arrive at Gills Bay ferry terminal at 1 o'clock, well in time for the 13.25 ferry. Was not aware of this ferry service, which goes out to St Margaret's Hope on South Ronaldsay. Names are taken down and £10 collected. The ferry looms up in the distance at 1.15, and meanders through the maze of off-shore skerries. After all the vehicles are discharged, footpassengers are allowed on board. The boat looks familiar. It's a bit of a rundown rustbucket, but when I ask the lady in the cafeteria, my suspicions are confirmed. A blast from the past: the Pentalina B used to ply the waters of the west coast as Iona until 1996. I sailed in her in the early 1990s, from Tobermory to Armadale and Mallaig. I even spent a night in her in an overnight berth at Mallaig in 1992. This was prior to a 5 a.m. ferry departure for the isle of Eigg on the old Lochmor as was. Back to 2004. We sail at 1.30, heading past the Isle of Stroma. This was evacuated in the 1950s, with everything left in the then state of affairs. Progress further north past Swona, with the cliffs of Hoy to the west. At 2.30, we dock at St Margaret's Hope. We make a 90° turn at a shingle bar at the entrance to the harbour. The Pentalina B looks dishevelled, poorly painted and rusty. Poor old Iona. At least she brought me safely to Orkney. Docked there too was the Claymore another ex-Calmac ferry in a dreadful state. A taxi appears to take two ladies and myself up to Kirkwall, the main town in Orkney. We have an interesting ride over the Churchill Barriers, and duly arrive in Kirkwall at 3 o'clock. I nip into the TIC, which I finally locate past St Magnus Cathedral. Gather in essential info, such as bus and ferry timetables. Then have a look inside the cathedral and the museum. Still have me rucksack on, so the tight passages in the museum are awkward to negotiate. Museum gives an interesting first glance at Orkney life. I then proceed up the road to the Youth Hostel on the Old Scapa Road. Am bundled into one of the droms after the usual formalities. Head into town to get some food in. There is a large supermarket on the Pickaquoy Road near the busstation. Make a booking to stay in the hostel at Papa Westray for tomorrow

Helmsdale - 31/08/04

On a bright and sunny morning, I went to the ferry terminal at 9.30. People were boarding a pleasure boat for a trip to the Summer Isles off Achiltibuie. The Stornoway ferry also came in to dock, and the Citylink / Rapsons coaches pulled in for Inverness passengers. I elected to go on the bus, but only as far as Dingwall. Once the ferry passengers are on, we set off towards Braemore junction. The driver was a bit surprised that I wanted off in Dingwall, but that's my business. On arrival there, the driver very kindly directed me to the railway station, as I had decided to head north. Arrived at 11.25, which left me about 50 minutes until the northbound train was due to leave. Walked down the town's high street to the railway station, where I had a coffee in an old-fashioned waiting room. The Kyle train came in first, followed some 20 minutes later by the Thurso train. It's fairly warm today. We pulled away - only to stop 50 m down the platform. Due to a technical fault we had to wait 45 minutes for the thing to get fixed. Finally, amidst a sarcastical cheer, we headed off at 1 o'clock. Along the Beauly Firth up to Tain, then west to Ardgay and the forested slopes along the Kyle of Sutherland. A few folk got off at Culrain, for Carbisdale Castle YH. Proceeded on to Larig and back to the coast past Rogart and Dunrobin Castle. We pulled into Helmsdale at around 2 pm. As the YH does not open until 5, I have a little while. Spend some time at the harbour, using the Internet facilities in a craftshop. Go out to the pier above the harbour. By 5 o'clock, I went for my shopping in the local Spar. Can't really find what I want, but that cannot be helped. Finally report to the YH, where a pleasant young lady books me in and shows me the ropes and something more interesting besides. Have a natter with other hostellers through the evening before going out for an evening amble. Later on, everybody joins in the convo. Jess, the warden, does this for a year before moving on elsewhere.

Ullapool - 30/08/04

The hostel was virtually empty last night. Left at 9 to explore the peninsula of Faraid Head, 2 miles north of Durness. Went down the road towards Balnakiel for a little way, then turned off north. Not a terribly nice day, it's very windy. Make my way through a campsite and through a landscape of dunes. End up at Seanachaisteal Cape, from where I headed west along the clifftops. These veer north after a litttle while, and in due course I was reunited with the road. This winds its way through the dunes and the sand towards an MOD monitoring station on Faraid Head. This is off-limits. The road at times disappears under sand, but is intensively used. Have a break on the hills just south of the fence, and look west towards Garbh Eilean, the bombing target for the navy. I make my way south again and when the road peters out in the sands of Balnakiel Bay, I go down to the shoreline. I return to the road at Balnakiel village. Half a mile further down I have another look at the craft village. Have a cup of soup in the bookshop and look round the gemstone shop. The proprietrix is a large elderly lady who told me how to kill a dog.She complained about the neighbours whose dog was forever p'ing in her flowerbeds, and about all and everything. I returned to the hostel to collect my things and have lunch. The bus back to Ullapool starts at 2.45. It was strange to alone in the hostel after the convivial buzz of the weekend. Left at 2.15 to walk up the road to the starting point at the Smoo Caves. The journey back down to Ullapool took 3 hours and was the same as on the way up, albeit a little sunnier. The Youth Hostel in Ullapool still had vacancies. One of the wardens was a young Dutch lady. Nipped out to Safeways for food, then proceeded to eat it. Internet access in the village was extortionately priced, so I left that. Nice natter with some hostellers.

Cape Wrath - 29/08/04

Was one of the first to be out and about in the hostel. Made my breakfast but by the time I had finished, the rest of the people had materialised as well. One person was sent across to the dormblock to sound the gong. Left at 9 o'clock, thinking it was going to be a nice day. Nope. The nice weather was fast disappearing east, and a bank of ominously grey cloud swiftly moved up from the west. By the time I reached Durness village, it was raining steadily and getting worse. Went down the lane towards the Balnakiel Craft village, which used to be an RAF radarbase. It was taken over in the 1960s by people engaged in various crafts, such as glazing, repairing musical instruments and collecting gemstones. I cannot reach Keoldale by passing through the craft village, so I rejoin the main road and head off down a farmtrack. By now, it's absolutely sluicing down. I regain the main road south after a mile, after passing some very mournful looking cattle. Trudge down the A838 for just over a mile, with a fair amount of traffic on it. I'm relieved when I can finally branch off. This is at the bottom of the hill, where the road approaches the broad inlet of the Kyle of Durness. Go down the sideroad to the hotel and to the jetty at its end. It's now 10.45, raining like hell and blowing. Find a convenient shelter and await events. A notice proclaims no ferry service for Saturday, but no further info on today. A man in an estate car says that the situation is under review. Other cars turn up whose occupants also want to got to Cape Wrath. Finally, the rain relents and stops at 11.30. A little boat is launched and sailed to a larger vessel. All who want to go across are required to board this vessel, and we make our way across the Kyle. There is a strong current, but no problems. Reach the far side in about 10 minutes. Two minibuses are parked. First of all, they have to be tanked up. Once on board, we all have to remain seated at all times. The reason why becomes clear on departure - this is part of the Queen's Highway, but it's the most atrocious 11 miles of public highway in the country. Two tarmacked rutted tracks. Nobody lives here premanently as the area is a bombing range for the Royal Navy. There is an offshore island which is pounded regularly. First we ascend to about 66 m (220 ft) above sealevel. Then we descend to a river. It's apparently luck of the draw whether the bridge is still there. It is today. There are a handful of holiday homes on the coast of the Kyle, but only one house further up the track. We bounce our way along, splashing through puddles. A hill called Fashven looms up to the south, altitude 460 m (1530 ft). After a very sharp bend, we cross another river by some MOD sentry posts. Out towards the coast, a set of rock stacks stands which look like a cathedral front. At length, 40 minutes after leaving the ferry, we draw up outside Cape Wrath Lighthouse, the end of the road. First port of call is the lighthouse and the foghorn. A ship sails round the cape at that very moment. The actual cape is not at the foghorn, but by the offshore islands. You stand 60 m / 200 ft above the sea. It is possible to walk from here to Sandwood Bay, 6 miles further south, and on to Kinlochbervie. We met two hikers on the way up. Wandered about the area around the lighthouse. This runs on generators, which start automatically. The adjacent buildings are all deserted. Buildings high on the hill to the east are only a shell. After an hour, we all climb on board the bus and head back for the Keoldale ferry. Weather has cleared up nicely. The worst of the water has drained from the road, and we hobble merrily across this desolate landscape. On approach to the pier, we can see seals on the shallows in the Kyle. A few photostops are made. The tide is out, so the boat has a spot of bother at the pier. At the Durness side of the water, I head off on foot along the shore of the Kyle. End up in a landscape ofdunes, and only slowly make progress north. Sun is nice and warm. After a lot of hassle, I finally approach civilisation through the golfcourse. Having wrung myself through a narrow gate, I presently find myself on the road past Balnakiel, the craftvillage. Didn't manage to have a good look this morning on account of the atrocious weather. It's a strange place. I drop into a restaurant for a cuppa and am even allowed Internet access. After that, I return to the hostel at 6 o'clock. The evening was unremarkable, as it's a lot more quiet than last night. Many folks left this morning to return down south.

Pictures

Durness - 28/08/04

As I dislike large towns, I make a beeline for the busstation to head out of Inverness at a quarter to nine. The bus I'm on will take me all the way to Durness, near the northwestern extremity of the Scottish mainland, 10 miles east of Cape Wrath. It's not a big bus. I start off by having a coffee in the busstation cafeteria, then I board the vehicle in question. One couple already there is mixed British / Belgian. We head off down the A9 across the Kessock bridge, through Dingwall and out up the A835 to Ullapool. We go through Strathpeffer. It's a cool and cloudy day. Just after the Braemore junction, we're allowed to stretch our legs at the Corrieshalloch gorge. The bridge spans a gorde and offers quite a spectacular view. After a sanitary stop, everybody stuffs their face and rejoins the bus. Next stop Ullapool, some 11 miles up the road. We arrive in the village at 1030, on time to watch the Stornoway ferry depart. I hop into the Woollen Mill shop to buy a fleece. It's turning gradually colder. I also need plasters for a problematic toe. Bus leaves shortly before 11. We head north through a stunning landscape of maountains, whose names I can only copy off the maps. Beinn Mor Coigach, then the sideroad to Achiltibuie, through Elphin and on to the Ledmore junction. We join the A837 north, past Canisp and Suilven. It's raining, with low clouds over the mountains. Suilven is only just recognisable. At Inchnadamph we reach Loch Assynt. The A837 heads north over the mountains, from Skiag Bridge. This bus diverts a mere 11 miles to the coast to reach Lochinver. To the right, the convoluted mass of the Quinag rears up, not very far to the north. A fairly steep descent takes us into the fishing port of Lochinver. It's dry now, but still not terribly warm. We're allowed off again, to look round the visitor centre. WQuite nicely laid out. We depart at 12, retracing our steps to Skiag Bridge, then rise from 71 m to 238 m in 1½ miles to crest the pass between Quinag and Glas Bheinn. As stated before, Quinag is a massive mountain with 3 large spurs. The road veers downhill and presently Loch Glencoul and the bridge at Kylesku loom up ahead. We pass through Unapool and finally cross the bridge. We quickly rise up again, but the views from the bridge were very good. Next village is Scourie, which is a bit of a one-horse town. Six miles further up the ocast, we change from A894 (as of Skiag Bridge) to the A838, which will take us to Rhiconich, at the head of Loch Inchard. The narrow B801 road leads to another fishing port, Kinlochbervie. We turn round at the fishmart and drop the Belgian / British couple off at their accommodation. I stay on right through to Durness. This is actually the next village beyond Rhiconich, if 11 miles distant. Pass through a bleak and desolate landscape, where you can see for miles. To the left lie the derelict lands of An Parph, the district surrounding Cape Wrath. The A838 passes along the eastern shore of the Kyle of Durness to Keoldale, where the ferry sails to An Parph. We arrive into Durness village just before two. The driver very kindly drops me off at the youth hostel, which is located at the eastern end of Durness, near the Smoo Caves. The hostel is as yet closed, so I walk back to the TIC on Sango Bay. This is very scenic, it's an official swimming beach with stunning coastal scenery. The main road loops inland for half a mile, but there is a very steep short cut. Go for a walk out towards Loch Meadaidh, south of the village. A vehicle trail leads there, Find a man mending a gate. I head northwest towards Loch Calladail. Bit breezy this afternoon, but now pleasantly sunny. Return into Durness from there, and do some shopping for the weekend. Nothing opens here on Sunday, so I've got to be prepared. The only thing is that the local convenience store doesn't have a large variety of foods. Return to the hostel at 5, and am being welcomed by the warden. He has got Tibetan prayerflags up, windchimes and the lot. The hostel consists of two buildings, separated by a stretch of lawn. One building is the dormitory, the other the main hostel building with kitchen and common room. Hostel is fairly lively at the moment, with a German family out of Hamburg and a British family. It's the weekend. I cook my food, then go out for a walk to the Smoo Caves at 8 o'clock. These are just a few hundred yards up the road. I could not go in far on account of high water. The water from the Smoo river plunges into a sinkhole, down into the cave. You do get wet in there. Hobble back to the hostel. Conduct a phone conversation at 10 o'clock, when it's nearly fully dark outside. It's not very cold.

Pictures

Inverness - 27/08/04

Spent the morning sorting things out. I'm sending excess stuff off by mail, then board the ferry at 12.40 to return to the mainland. It's a bright day. The crew use the time until arrival at Ullapool cleaning and painting the ship. On arrival at Ullapool, a bus stands ready to take footpassengers on to Inverness. It's green until Braemore Junction, where the road rises to go up onto the moors. Past Loch Glascarnoch, where a webcam is located for the Met Office. At Garve, we cross the railway to Kyle and head further east. Bus branches off to go through Strathpeffer before rejoining the main road towards Inverness. At Dingwall, we go down the A9 dual carriageway towards Kessock. The bridge matrix signs warn of high winds. We arrive at Inverness at 5 o'clock, in the middle of the evening rush hour. Walk from Farraline Park busstation to the railway station and into the Eastgate Shopping Centre. Notice the Safeway supermarket, handy for supply. Cross that awful pedestrian crossing, where each crossing has a 1½ minute wait. You have to cross each lane of traffic separately - and there are 4 of them. The youth hostel still has vacancies, so I book in there for the night. It's the usual mix of hostellers. After doing the laundry, nothing much happens, apart from making and eating dinner.

Callanish - 26/08/04

My luck finally seems to have run out on the weatherfront: it's raining today. Head down to the Callanish Stones at lunchtime. On arrival there, I first of all make for the restaurant for a sandwich and soup. Then I browse through an exhibition about the stones, after I finally locate somebody to pay my entrance fee to. Interesting. After that, I step outside to brave the elements. This is my second visit to Callanish, and like 10 years ago, it's grey and wet. Before the bus comes just after 3, I have time to hobble down the road towards Garynahine to view two smaller stone circles, Callanish II and III. Nearly needed a boat, it was very soggy. The ruined houses nearby did little to lift the mood. I was glad when the bus came to take me back to Stornoway. It went the long way round, through Carloway and Barvas. Not many on board, until we pulled up outside the primary school in Carloway. We waited for about 10 minutes, then the little darlings came out. Some were collected by parents, but a lot came on board. We first of all went up to a small housing estate on the Pentland Road to drop some kiddies off. Others were deposited around Garenin and Upper Carloway. Continued through the rain to Shawbost School, where a similar exercise was conducted. Here were both primary and lower secondary pupils, boarding a few minutes apart. The driver barked at the kids to keep quiet, sit still, stop faffing about with the seatbelts. He even stopped the bus for that. After an excursion up a sidestreet and all the way into Barvas, we finally returned to Stornoway at 4.50. Went for supper in the Crown, then reported to the Town Hall at 8 o'clock for a concert by the Blazing Fiddles. It took me a little while to work out which door would give access to the hall. Concert was a rousing success, and the usual informal atmosphere prevailed. Kids running about, people popping to the loo and being invited to join in if they knew the tune. Concert finished at 10.15, and I returned to the B&B. Mrs Burns invited me to share a dram with herself and two of her sons. Things got very convivial, and I was even invited to play the keyboard. Bedtime at 1 o'clock.

Harris Hills - 25/08/04

It's a sunny morning, and I head out after breakfast on the bus to Tarbert to do some walking in Harris. I'm in Tarbert at 11, and set off down the road towards Scalpay. It's getting warm, and I'm steadily getting fed up with the traffic that roars past me on the single-track road. Just past Urgha, I find a marker pointing to the path which used to be used by mailrunners between Tarbert and Stornoway. It strikes out towards the Laxadale Lochs, which are set amongst stark mountain scenery. Beyond the hills to the east lies Rhenigadale. The trail has a tendency to be boggy. Decided on this route on the way in, when I saw it snaking across the mountains. Am overtaken by mountain bikers, and meet others going in the opposite direction. At the head of the loch, a green valley opens up to the west, rising up steeply - Glen Dibidale. My trail veers to the right to gain the height of the pass, then descend towards Maraig. Have a full-on view of Clisham. I finally arrive at the bottom of Maraig hill, and am now faced with a stiff climb up to the main road, an ascent of 100m over a horizontal distance of 800m. A little way up, someone has set fire to some old pallets. A helicopter flies overhead to a point on the hillside above, beyond my view. Puffing and panting, I reach the main road and I head north. To my surprise, the old post road continues at the access road to telephony relay transmitters. As I think that my return bus is due at 2.30, I carry on through the valley, running a little way west of the main road. The view at the far end is stunning. I've come out above Loch Seaforth, but the array of mountains in front of me is breathtaking. Clisham to the left, Stulabhal ahead. I wait and wait at the road, but then find out that the bus is not due till 4.30. So I continue down the main road to Scaladale, Ardvourlie Castle and finally Bogha Glas. A track marches into the hills from here, and I join it for a little way. It's a tad boggy, and the streams that cross it are awkward. I lounge in the heather, face in the sun, until the clock tells me to rejoin the bus. I stop it in a passing place, and it duly runs me back through Lewis to Stornoway, arriving there at 5 pm. Go for supper to the Crown, where I overhear several people discussing community buy-outs and agricultural reform. The former hold my interest, so I join the convo. One lady is from HIE, Highlands & Islands Enterprise, based at Kyleakin, Skye. She will be assisting two proposed community buy-outs in Lewis. The gentleman is an agricultural consultant. Have a very animated discussion before we go our separate ways.

Ness - 24/08/04

Have breakfast at 8 am, then take my time in preparing for my relocation to Stornoway. The bus takes me there in an hour, arriving in SY at lunchtime. The TIC have great difficulty, once more, in getting me a B&B, but in the end I'm sent back to the same place I was in last week. Having dumped my stuff there, I return to the town centre to jump on the 1 pm bus to Ness. Fifty minutes later, the driver lets me off at a crossroads in the village of Eoropaidh / Eoropie, the northernmost township in Lewis. It's a cool, blustery day. When marching up the road to the lighthouse, I look back over the area. A watertower to my left, and a long stretch of demure dwellings stretching over the horizon. Peatstacks adorn 2 out of every 3 hourses here. And it's so bleak, not a tree in sight. About half a mile up the road, a cove opens up unexpectedly to my right. The map tells me it's called Port Stoth. A steep track plunges down and you have to be careful lower down. Algae grow on the concrete slipway, making it very slippery indeed. A family is admiring the scenery and I take a picture of and for them. I presently return to the road at the top. A barn stands on the northern cliff. The road veers northwest towards the lighthouse. The rock formatioins that protrude out of the grass, and the stacks rising 120 feet out of the sea are the oldest rocks on the surface of the earth. Lewisian gneiss is 3,000 million years old. I have something to eat out of the reach of the wind. Then I proceed round the coast, which rises abruptly out of the sea. A cross at the cliff edge marks the spot where someone fell to his death in 1954. I veer inland, climb over some stiles and proceed over a landscape of lazybeds until I come out just west of Eoropie village. After a break on a hillock amidst frisky lambs, I climb over the gate and walk through Eoropie to the crossroads. The 3.30 bus comes quickly. I join it as it makes its way to Lionel School to pick up primary and lower secondary pupils. They are subsequently deposited in various villages along the road to Barvas. Return to Stornoway before 5. Have supper at the Crown Hotel.

Barra to Tarbert - 23/08/04

Breakfast was early, at 7.45, as I have been offered a lift with the man of the house who is driving an articulated lorry to Eriskay this morning. It's a huge vehicle, which has to go through an incredible number of gear-changes before it reaches something like a normal cruising speed. We leave at 8.30, and I'm surprised how nimbly the truck negotiates the narrow island roads. We're bang on time for the ferry at Ardmhor. The crossing, in a force 5 wind, is pretty lively. The lorry is shackled to the deck. Forty minutes later, we dock at Eriskay. I thank the driver and jump on the bus that's standing ready at the quayside, waiting to depart for Balivanich. The route goes over the Eriskay causeway to Ludag, Polachar Inn, Garynamonie and Daliburgh. At the Howmore Garage, we wait for a wee while, before continuing north. Have to change buses at Balivanich Airport. As I still have time, I nip inside to grab some sandwiches from a cafeteria. Meanwhile, I have coverage on my mobile for the first time since Friday, so the texts start flooding in. Finally, the bus arrives and I continue my journey north, via Grimsay to North Uist. The 13.30 ferry takes me from Berneray to Harris, under a grey sky. On arrival at Leverburgh, the Hebridean Transport coach is waiting, but we're not going for another half hour. When we do go at 3 pm, the bus turns into a sight-seeing tour, for the benefit of people who are doing a triangular trip with Calmac. We stop on the hill above Northton to allow tourists to take pictures of Northton beach. We stop at one beach, further up the road, for about 20 minutes. Everybody gets off to clamber down to the sandy shore, and walk almost as far as MacGregor's Stone, set on a hill off the far side of the beach. Our attention is drawn to good old Taransay and the Golden Road. Arrive into Tarbert just before 4pm. I decide to settle down for the night here. If I carry on to Stornoway, I may not be on time at the TIC to help me out with a bed. Arrival time there 5 pm. So, I make my way to the McLeod Motel, which offers me B&B for £28. Pokey little room with an iffy telly. WC and showers are shared with about 10 rooms. I go out for a walk up the Scalpay road, as far as the first sign for Urgha, past the junkyard. Retrace my steps into the village and ask for the library, which is located on a school's premises. This turns out to be a new building. Later on, I have a meal in the bar adjacent to the motel. Total lack of atmosphere in the bar,which is in common with the motel. Food acceptable. Have a nice chat with an Aussie lady who is working her way round the UK, waitressing. Her boyfriend does likewise. We compare notes on the Scottish experience.

Vatersay - 22/08/04

After breakfast, partaken in a slightly pokey little kitchen, I head out on that horrendous bike. I head in the general direction of Castlebay, with the vague ideal of climbing Heaval. After walking up the hill from Brevig, I reach the relevant point near the stile and commence the ascent. It's too warm, so I abort and return to the iron steed. Squeeze the water out of my handlebars on my way down that hill into Castlebay and pop into a convenience store which, to my surprise, is open. Today is Sunday, normally strictly observed in the Outer Isles. Buy a few bits and pieces for lunch. Otherwise, Castlebay is deserted. Cycle past St Brenden's hospital, an annex to a nursing home, to Nasg. At that point, I turn left and head up the 1 in 9 incline. On foot obviously. It's not a long stretch of road, and it's not long before I level out at the war memorial. This is always impressive, and I spend a few moments in quiet contemplation. Plummet down the incline to the causeway that links Vatersay to Barra. Big quarry at the northern end of the causeway. Play hide-and-seek with a brownish black cat on the causeway. On Vatersay, I turn left past a busshelter, along the shore of Bagh Chornaig. This road gradually goes uphill. There is a blind summit near the old jetty, where a ferry would dock until the causeway rendered it redundant in 1990. On those steeper stretches, I'm always concerned about cars. The brakes don't work all that well. I ride past the turn-off for Uidhe, past the school. Some folks are busy there. I carry on through the sandy isthmus between Vatersay Bay and West Bay. Pretty landscape with dunes, which offer nice walks. Once in the village, it's looking as desolate and derelict as it did on my last visit, back in 1995. I proceed a bit further than 9 years ago, turning left and finally down a trail below the last houses of the township. Tractor trails lead down through the machair to South Beach, which faces out to the next island, Sandray. By about 2pm, I retrace my steps and tracks as far as Caolas. A fair few folk out walking; the school is now shut up. At Caolas, just before the causeway, I go down the sideroad leading west as far as a gate. Park the bike there and walk across to Traigh Bharlais. This is really pretty, very pleasant. It's out of the chilly wind and in the hot sun. I spend the next THREE hours there. Playing with sand, rocks, water courses - oh how old am I :-). Get well sunburnt in the process. Tear myself out of there at5 pm and return to the bike, which I return to the hirers in Castlebay. See the coach used by the Vatersay Boys parked in Nasg. Head into one of the hotels for my supper. After that, I walk back across to Earsary. By about 8 pm, I pass through Sgallairidh and befriend a black cat and her kittens that playing through some reeds near a watercourse. Further along, a group of teenage girls are actually IN the water. Return to the B&B just after 8. Nice sunset tonight.

Eoligarry - 21/08/04

After breakfast, Mrs Beaton very kindly offers to run me into Castlebay. I'm there as early as 9.30 a.m., so I pop into the TIC to sort out my accommodation for the weekend. This will be a B&B at Earsary, on the eastern side of Barra. It's about 5 miles from Castlebay. Unfortunately, I cannot go there until 11 o'clock. I retreat to the library to access the internet. The library is located in the local school. When I arrive there, everything is yet to start up, so I natter to the librarian, waiting for the computer to get its act together. After that, I proceed to the far side of Castlebay to hire a bicycle. It's a dinky little place, where they can let me have a bike for a couple of days for about £25. The bike I am given needs a bit of tweaking, in terms of brakes, saddle &c. After a preliminary run round the block, I saddle up with my huge, big rucksack to tackle that hill. And it's a long, high climb. You go up to 102 m over a distance of about a mile. Bearing in mind it's turning into a nice, sunny and hot day, I'm soon perspiring. I end up walking the bike up, and have to take a few breaks on the way. Snide comments from passers-by don't help, but I manage to reach the highest point. There is a little picnic acrea, opposite a stile, which gives access to the highest point on Barra. This is more than 900 ft above my present position. Now I have to descend to sealevel again, and the descent is as hairy as the ascent. I walk the bike down, then, as the gradient eases, I mount up and ride the remaining stretch to Earsary. After the bay at Brevig, there is a side road to Sgallairidh. Both villages lie under the dramatic backdrop of Heaval and Hartaval, the highest hills on Barra, 383 and 353m respectively. My accommodation is at the far, northern, end of Earsary. Have to jolt over a cattle-grid first, then leave the bike at the side of the house. Only too glad, the thing plays havoc with me undercarriage. Mrs MacNeil is still waving off her guests from last night. I'm afforded a nice welcome. Afterwards I mount the bike again and head north. Problem is that the main road on Barra, the A888, is single-track. As a cyclist, I have to dive into a passing-place to let vehicles past. Following a long descent thorugh Buaille nam Bodach, I pass over a causeway across part of Loch Ob. The road veers along the bank of the inlet and heads steeply up through a pass, to descend once more into Northbay. It's here, at 12.30, that my eye falls upon the Heathbank Hotel, which serves barlunches. I park the bike and go inside. A very pleasant young lady behind the bar takes my order. As I sat down at the back, a lady with a young child tries to get him to eat his lunch. Meanwhile, I'm flabbergasted when a man gets up from the bar and walks straight into the ladies' toilets. My surprise will have shown, as the barmaid explains that in the recent refurbishment, the gents' and the ladies' were swapped round. The chap in question gets some ribbing over his insouciance. I say good-bye to the lady behind the bar and go on my merry way. First down to the ferry terminal at Ardmhor, where the ferry isn't due for another 3 hours. So, I carry on to Traigh Mhor, which doubles as the island's airfield. Scheduled services depart here for Glasgow and Benbecula. As that bike is so hideously uncomfortable, I flop down at the southern end of the beach to enjoy the sunshine. Watch a small yellow plane outside the terminal building, a little way along. I slowly cycle past the terminal, where the fire-engine is being tested. Carry on past Eoligarry School and through the township itself to Bagh nan Clach, until the road appears to run straight into Beinn Sgurabhal, the northernmost tip of Barra. Park the bike at the roadend near a farm. Climb over a stile and go down to the beach, Traigh Sgurabhal. This stretches southeast for about a mile, and looks out towards Fudaigh and Eriskay. South Uist lies about 4 miles to the north. Laze on the sands for a bit, faff with rocks and sand. Then I climb up to the machair above and return to the bike. I cycle back all the way to Earsary, 7 miles in total. It takes me about an hour to cover the distance. People are collecting cockles on Traigh Mhor. Return to Earsary at 5, with the dogs barking furiously. Just before 6, I cycle back to the Heathbank for supper. The girl behind the bar has been replaced by her dad. Good food here. Return to Earsary at 7.45. There is no wind tonight, so the midges are out in force. There is only one thing for it: keep going. The sun shines warmly until my return at Minchview. Mrs MacNeil very kindly gives me a saddle cover - my bike is so blinking uncomfortable.

Stornoway to Castlebay - 20/08/04

After breakfast I proceed to the TIC in Cromwell Street to book my B&B in Barra, which is my destination for the day. Having gotten something for lunch, I jump on the 10 o'clock bus to Leverburgh, which is the first stage of today's 8 hour journey. After Balallan, an elongated township above the shores of Loch Erisort, the landscape becomes rather wilder. The road finally reaches the shores of Loch Seaforth, before rising dramatically over a 600 ft shoulder of the Clisham. It then drops down equally steeply to Ardhasaig and Tarbert. Beyond the main village in Harris, the landscape turns into the Empire of Stone with which I associate South Harris. The fantastic white beaches follow 9 miles southwest of Tarbert, and they continue right the way down the westcoast, under the backdrop of "Castaway 2000" island Taransay. After Northton / Taobh Tuath the road veers inland to lead to An t-Ob, Leverburgh. It's a very nice, sunny day, and it's worth my while sitting out on deck on board the Loch Portain. This traverses the maze that is the Sound of Harris without difficulty, and drops me off at the new Berneray ferry terminal at 1.20. Have to wait for the minibus to Lochmaddy to turn up. Driver takes me all the way to Carnish, where I change into a Hebridean Coaches bush, which will take me right the way down to Eriskay. Pleasantly chatty character behind the wheel. The route now goes past the airport and the hospital at Balivanich, before crossing the causeway to South Uist at Creagorry. We also pass Linaclete School. The journey across South Uist is not exactly riveting, apart from the odd loch and the chain of hills, up to 2000 ft high to the east. I'm almost relieved to arrive at Daliburgh. From there, the bus carries on to South Boisdale, Garynamonie and Ludag. I've never been here before; the causeway to Eriskay is fairly new. It sports warning signs for otters crossing. Once on Eriskay, it looks like a typical small island community, houses packed tightly together and everybody knowing everybody else, including their business. We arrive at the ferry terminal precisely at the same time as the Barra ferry, the Loch Bhrusda. It's still brilliantly sunny. On arrival at the Ardmhor terminal in Barra, the little bus is waiting. It's a slightly ramshackle affair, which leaves at 5.30 to go round the westside of Barra. It's quite warm behind the windows. Half an hour later, the lady driver drops me off outside Oceanview B&B at Borgh. Mrs Beaton gives me a cordial welcome, and shows me to my room. The spacious living room has a magnificent view of the Atlantic - next stop St Johns, Newfoundland. Mr Beaton is a retired sea-captain who has been right round the world. After a very pleasant chat, I set off down the road to the Isle of Barra Hotel, 1½ miles away, again on the shoreline. A twenty minute walk brought me there. I got into the wrong bar to start with, but finally settle down in the lounge bar for supper. A few families with kids were there, and the kids preferred to be outside rather than in. Don't blame them actually. After dinner, I walk down the road into Castlebay, another mile-and-a-half, as far as the school. The sun is beginning to set, so I turn back. It's a 40 minute hike back to Oceanview, in a very nice, quiet evening. The odd car races by, but otherwise very still. Return to B&B at 9.20 pm.

Stornoway - 19/08/04

Decide on today's course of action after breakfast. I have a choice of joining the Citylink bus to Glasgow or the Calmac ferry across to Tarbert, Harris. I opt for the ferry. Having bought a ticket, I now have to wait for the minibus to take me to the ferry. It is very windy today, blowing a gale. When on the actual quayside, the wind gets hold of the gangway, which nearly sweeps everybody off their feet and into the wall of the waiting room. Departure time 9.20, and it's very lively in the Minch. Visibility poor, but I nonetheless spend the duration of the journey out on deck. Dock at Tarbert at 11 o'clock. Bus leaves for Stornoway at 11.30, depositing me there an hour later. I'm first going into the TIC for a bed. A lot of trouble later, I'm finally directed towards a B&B in Newton Street, on the seafront. At the TIC I also enquired about what's on: it appears a play called Metagama will be staged tonight, so I buy a ticket. After dinner in the Crown Hotel, I proceed up the road from my B&B to Seaforth Road and the studios there. Metagama is the name of an emigrant ship that left Lewis in 1923 for Canada, taking scores of young men and women with it who were looking for a new life in the West. Following the Great War (1914-18), prospects in the Western Isles were definitely bleak. The Canadian Government advertised for work, and hundreds applied. Return to B&B at 10.30.

North Skye - 18/08/04

We've lost the sun, and as I proceed to the busstop, it's a tad windy. Decide to head north for a roundtrip Trotternish. First to Portree. Because the clouds were down, I couldn't see much of the Cuillins at Sligachan. Had a look round Portree, well, that's very quickly done.
Bus left at 12 o'clock with me in prime position, behind the driver. Had this half-baked idea to alight at the Duntulm Hotel, to look up Renata who I'd met last Saturday on the Small Isles ferry. She was the one that forgot to get off at Eigg. Alighted at Duntulm and went into the hotel bar for a bit of lunch. They took their time getting it out to me, it should be said. When I finally got out again, not having found Renata, it had turned cold and miserable. Very strong winds, mobile phone coverage only at sealevel. Walked down the road to view the ruins of Duntulm Castle. They were popular that day with a variety of tourists. They all had nice warm cars and coaches.
My bus finally turned up at 3 pm. A step down the road, we picked up a local man, who was going to work for Calmac over the weekend. I did mention poor visibility. On cresting the hill leading into Uig, we were brought to a halt in a line of traffic. Someone had driven their car into a ditch. A tractor was just in the process of pulling it out. It was beginning to rain heavily. Driver pulled up outside the convenience store at Uig pier to buy a paper. On return to Portree, it was raining heavily. My search for accommodation resumed at the TIC. It lands me a B&B 16 miles away - at Uig (where I've just come from).
Return to Uig on the 4.20 bus, which drops me off quite neatly outside the door. Am welcomed into Orasay GH, with a pokey likl room, but a pleasantly spacious sitting room. Go for a bite to eat in the restaurant two doors down. Food acceptable, but when I go for a beer in the bar, there's hardly anyone there. Have a short walk into the croft behind Orasay, where a number of selfcatering caravans stand. By now, 8 pm, it's dry if chilly. Turn in at 10.30.

Sleat - 17/08/04

Today dawned bright and sunny, and I wound my way by bus down to Armadale in the morning. After having a pizza for lunch on Armadale pier, I decided to give the Mallaig ferry a miss and head up the road into Ardvasar. Oh, didn't mention the fantastic road widening scheme on the A851 down from Broadford. I proceeded in warm sunshine down the road past Ardvasar, finally to flop down on a hillock near the old School House. This is now a dwelling house, but I cannot understand how someone can live there. The nearby cattle grid gives off a frightful racket every time someone drives over it. Enjoyed the views up and down the Sound of Sleat for a little while. Walked a little way past Tormore farm, where all the roadsigns along a very tricky stretch of road had been reversed. I turned them back round again. Took myself back into Ardvasar to look for accommodation. No luck at all. One B&B was deserted, although Radio 2 was blaring out. The hotel was fully booked, so in the end I just caught the bus to Broadford. The TIC is closed when I arrive there at 5.50 pm, the hotels are fully booked as are the B&B's. OK, the youth hostel still has beds so, and I don't mind spending a night there. A group of Hungarian people are staying there, and they are having great fun fornicating. Had a fast food meal at the youth hostel: baked beans and fruit salad.

Skye - 16/08/04

At half past ten, I jump on the train to Fort Wiliam, which takes me east through the familiar points of Beasdale, Loch Eilt, Glenfinnan and Loch Eil, finally to arrive into the Fort at 12 o'clock. It's a bit of a drab day, cloudy and grey. After some shopping for lunch, at Safeways, I jump on the Skye bus at 2 o'clock, buying a ticket to Portree. First 25 miles go up the Great Glen as far as Invergarry, then it's west up the A87 towards Kyle. This offers a nice view over Tomdoun to Loch Quoich, then heads north to join up with the A887 out of Invermoriston and Inverness. A long stretch without any habitation to Cluanie Inn, where the old road comes across the mountains, followed by the run down to Shiel Bridge. A Dutch car nearly had our bus in its boot on the Loch Shiel causeway. At 4 pm we arrive at Kyle to cross the bridge after paying the tolls. At Kyleakin a few people come and go, attributable to the presence of the Youth Hostel. Proceed to Broadford and past Scalpay and Raasay to Sligachan and Portree. At Portree, I didn't have any accommodation booked, so first port of call was the TIC. It was very late in the afternoon, but the man managed to arrange a B&B for me. It was called Hyskeir, and situated on the outskirts of town, near the loop on the Dunvegan Road. The house was used for and by B&B guests only. En-suite facilities a bit pokey, but it'll do for a night. Have a meal in town and afterwards do the laundry under the hostel in Somerled Square.

Eigg daytrip - 15/08/04

Today, I'm going back to Eigg for a daytrip out of Arisaig. To this end, the man of the house will take me there. First though, he'll drop Renata off at Mallaig. She is going to the hotel at Duntulm, Skye, where one of her friends is staying. The Sheerwater departs at 11 a.m., and yes there is still room on board for me. For £15.00, I'll be taken there and back. Arrive at Eigg at midday, on a slightly cramped boat. Lots of folk with kids and dogs. At Eigg, there is a longish walk off the pier, which stretches from An Laimhrig southeast to nearly Lady Runciman's bathing hut. The cafeteria is open, but the rest of the centre is closed, it being Sunday. I hobble across to Kildonan, where only Greg and Amy are about. Greg tells me all about his trip to the States, and the fact that his parents are away to Edinburgh. I ask him to pass on my regards and disappear up the road to Cuagach. Maggie Fyffe's home is empty of people, so she is away as well. By this time, I have to start planning my return to the pier, as the Sheerwater is leaving at 4.30. So, I go on my merry way south again, and duly arrive on the pier, via the Lodge, in time for the ferry. The return to Arisaig is your usual deviation for whales and the like, which means that the skipper cuts the engine to allow everybody to watch. On arrival at Arisaig, I head off towards my accommodation for the night, this being the fiendishly expensive Cnoc na Faire hotel. This is located some 2 miles outside the village, near the Back of Keppoch. I am put in a room called Eigg, very acceptable. Food is good as well, but as stated before: £98 per person per night is incredibly steep in my book. The mozzies are out, so I stay in.

Pictures

Saturday 14/08/04 - Small Isles Cruise

Another glorious day. I head up the railline to Mallaig at 10 o'clock, at no charge. There I visit the TIC to arrange tonight's accommodation. This is done by looking it up yourself and ringing the B&B yourself, admittedly on the TIC's own phone. I end up in Glasnacardoch, at the bottom of the B8008 out of Mallaig. Having accessed the internet that annexes with the TIC, I hobble across to the Glasnacardoch Guesthouse (formerly Hotel), where I'm given a warm welcome. The lady very kindly offers to collect me at Mallaig tonight, on return from the cruise round the Small Isles which I'm planning for today. The lady has a husband and a 7-year old boy (who dominates everybody's life) as well as two rather large dogs. I return to Mallaig at midday, in time for a phonecall which I have to take in the middle of the Spar Supermarket. At 1.30 the Lochnevis sails for the Small Isles with myself on board for the round trip, 8 hours in total. Return planned for 21.30 tonight. There isn't a cloud in the sky, not a wave of swell and everybody in a sunny mood. On the way to Eigg, we see minke whales, and just off the northern tip of the island an orca leaping clean out of the water. Its white markings give its identity away. Arrival at Eigg at 2.45 pm. Some very familiar faces on the pier. Just as we pull away, a sleepy face pokes out of the cabin and asks "Is this Eigg?". Yep, this was Eigg. Italian Renata goes into a flap when she realises she, well, has forgotten to disembark. She was under the impression that she'd have to change into the wee ferryboat. Unfortunately that went out of service back in March, when the new pier was put into formal usage. Renata was to have joined as a volunteer on the island for a week, but as she cannot reach Eigg until Monday she decides to abandon the idea altogether. Sue Hollands, volunteer coordinator on Eigg, wasn't too fussed. I had asked the Carrs at Kildonan to pass the message on to her. Greg Carr, who took the call, fell about laughing on hearing the story. Anyway, on to Muck. I organised a bed for this slightly loopy girl at my own B&B. We continued on our merry way, with me spouting off knowledge regarding the Small Isles. The docking procedure was a bit complicated at Muck, and took a long time. So, it was well after 4 when we finally departed for island n° 3, Rum. By this time, a bank of cloud had started to move up from the south, but it stayed sunny right the way through our sail up the Sound of Rum. Very nice views of Glen Dibidil and the Rum Cuillins, as well as the western extremity of the Sgurr Ridge on Eigg. This slowly moves from Beannan Breaca through Beinn Tighe to Laig Bay. Cleadale looks very pretty under the dark cliffs of Beinn Buidhe. With the time approaching 6 pm, we move round to enter Loch Scresort on the eastern side of Rum. Again, no more faffing about with boats here, the Lochnevis just docks at the pier. As I'm looking straight into the sun, now due west, I'm unable to see Kinloch Castle. I know where it is supposed to be, but it's hidden in amongst the trees. Final island, Canna, is approached round the north coast of Rum, and the sun by this point begins to desert us. At 6.45, we're in the shadows and it's very still. On Canna, the midges are out, making everybody's life a misery. We head back to Mallaig at 7.15. It's now a question of spotting all those whales, there are dozens of them about. Have a Calmac bacon butty for supper. Arrive in Mallaig at 9.20, where the lady from Glasnacardoch is ready to pick up Renata and myself.

Pictures

Friday 13/08/04

Although Friday 13th is not a good day for the superstitious, I nonetheless head out in glorious sunshine and make for Arisaig. Fort William TIC was unable to book anything at all for me yesterday, but did advise me to knock on doors in the village. So, there I was at 9.50, knocking on doors in Arisaig. Natives were friendly, a lady very kindly rang round for me. I finally ended up in an annex room of the Old Library, a pretty expensive affair. Fifty quid if memory serves. The room had a sliding door which could not be locked. In the afternoon, I headed out for a walk at the back of the village, heading out towards the farm at Kinloid. You have to go up past the church and the school, then cross the Arisaig by-pass in the A830. It's really warm, and I'm soon puffing. Pass through the yard of Kinloid farm, then set off up a track up the hill. Gate a bit awkward under the railway viaduct. Finally reach the transmitter mast, which affords a nice view all round to Rhum, Eigg and north to Skye. Am tempted to proceed further uphill, but stop short of Sgurr an t-Sasunnaich. Lounge in the sun, out of the wind on the top of a hillock for some time. Then I return to Kinloid and Arisaig. Very warm. On return to the village, I come across some folks on pushbikes who have a job negotiating the hill. Have dinner in the Old Library at 7 pm, then head down the road for a beer. Sit just a table away from some familiar faces from Eigg, such as DJ. Everybody's doings are being discussed. Head back to my wee room for the night

Thursday 12/08/04

At 7 a.m., I check out of the hotel in Glasgow and head for Queen Street Station,uncertain of my destination for the day. After a bite from a fast foodoutlet, I jump on the 8.12 to Fort William. The ride is familiar, and Ihop off at Corrour at 11 for an amble in the hills. I cross the lineafter the train departs and head west, for an outlying spur of Leum Uilleam. I watch as the hideously delayed Sleeper train creeps throughCorrour station at 1 pm, four hours late. I rejoin the Fort Williamtrain at 3.30, and duly arrive there an hour later. The TIC / TouristInformation Centre scrapes the barrel for me and digs out a room for meat a B&B just up the hill from them. Very pleasant lady. Go out fora meal in the hotelbar of the Ossian hotel. People are trawling thetown for rooms at 8 pm.

11/8/04 - Glasgow

Booked a hotelroom in the Ibis Hotel in Glasgow and jumped on the train north. It was another hot day, and the 14.30 from Euston was boiling. The journey was fraught with difficulties. Due to flooding on the line, the train was diverted through Stone, Stoke-on-Trent to Crewe, which caused a 60 minute delay. Fed-up looking passengers joined us at intermediate station, until disaster struck again on the Beattock Summit, between Carlisle and Glasgow: a red light and a lengthy wait. The usual exchange of travel horror-stories (my fav one: how the train caught fire, or at least how there was smoke in the smoking carriage on the Newcastle to London train) preceded the announcement that we'd be going back to Carlisle. On arrival there at 9pm, coaches were being commandeered to take the passengers on 8 Intercity trains north. However, the clever ones jumped on the little local to Dumfries, Kilmarnock and Glasgow. Anticipated time of arrival: 23.30. Original TOA: 19.53. The battery on my mobile ran flat in the middle of a phone-call, but someone lent me a hand-recharger. Do it 2.5 times a second for 3 minutes and you have 3 minutes' worth of battery power. The noise of the winder wound a fellow passenger up, who couldn't stand it. Took a taxi from Glasgow Central to the hotel.

Wednesday 11/08/04

Booked a hotelroom in the Ibis Hotel in Glasgow and jumped on the train north. It was another hot day, and the 14.30 from Euston was boiling. The journey was fraught with difficulties. Due to flooding on the line, the train was diverted through Stone, Stoke-on-Trent to Crewe, which caused a 60 minute delay. Fed-up looking passengers joined us at intermediate station, until disaster struck again on the Beattock Summit, between Carlisle and Glasgow: a red light and a lengthy wait. The usual exchange of travel horror-stories (my fav one: how the train caught fire, or at least how there was smoke in the smoking carriage on the Newcastle to London train) preceded the announcement that we'd be going back to Carlisle. On arrival there at 9pm, coaches were being commandeered to take the passengers on 8 Intercity trains north. However, the clever ones jumped on the little local to Dumfries, Kilmarnock and Glasgow. Anticipated time of arrival: 23.30. Original TOA: 19.53. The battery on my mobile ran flat in the middle of a phone-call, but someone lent me a hand-recharger. Do it 2.5 times a second for 3 minutes and you have 3 minutes' worth of battery power. The noise of the winder wound a fellow passenger up, who couldn't stand it. Took a taxi from Glasgow Central to the hotel.

Prelude - 2004

Wednesday 21 July

A very warm train journey brought me north to Darlington. Had to wait for a bus to Richmond, from where a taxi took me to Hurst. Like a year ago, I was waiting outside 3 Shiney Row for mum and dad to appear - who were very surprised to see me.


Thursday 22 July

Dad took me round by car, as mum preferred to sit at home and watch the birds and the landscape of the moorland. We drove to Reeth, Tan Hill, Brough, Middleton-in-Teesdale, Barnard Castle and back via the Stang Road to Hurst. Had a cuppa in Middleton. It was a nice, bright day.


Friday 23 July

In the morning, mum and dad took me back to the station at Darlington. As the southbound express moved away from the platform, I saw mum's face looking at me, until she disappeared from sight. 

I am writing this 11 years later, and I was not to know that I would never meet my mother again in this life. She passed away in May 2008. 


At York, I left the London-bound service, and changed into a train to Leeds. There, I joined the local service which would take me to Carlisle via Settle. A bright and sunny day. Stayed in a B&B on Warwick Road, just outside the city centre.


Saturday 24 July

Pouring with rain, as it can do in the Lakes. Took a bus from Carlisle to Keswick, where I found another B&B. Explored parts of Derwent Water on foot and by boat.


Sunday 25 July

Walked from Keswick to Ambleside, round the hill. Saw Rydal Water and Grasmere.

Monday 26 July 
After taking the bus from Ambleside, I returned south by train from Windermere to London Euston, where I stayed at the Thistle Hotel.

Saturday 31 July
Went to Cheltenham, on a pretty hot day, to meet an on-line contact, Elly. She invited me to a beerfest in the Cotswolds, just outside the town. Was taken back to Elly's pretty drunk - I'm not used to drinking 5 pints of beer!

Monday 2 August
After spending the weekend at Cheltenham, I took the train north Liverpool, via Gloucester and Birmingham. The train company took us from Runcorn into Liverpool by taxi.

Tuesday 3 August
After exploring Liverpool, I headed back to London via Crewe. A two-hour delay en-route did not matter all that much.

Friday 6 August
On my 40th birthday, I took the train back to the Lake District and booked into a B&B in Ambleside.

Saturday 7 August
Walked in the fells around Ambleside, Red Screes, Dove Crag and Fairfields, a walk that lasted from 9.30 until 19.00 hours. Returned to London the next day