Tuesday, April 24, 2012

The Orkney Saga

Not being satisfied with our trip through Scotland's southernmost regions, after a few days at home we set off again, this time for some of Scotland's northernmost regions (don't worry Shetlands, I haven't forgotten about you).  We've been wanting to go to the Orkney Islands for quite some time, we just never got around to doing it.  With our time in Scotland quickly drawing to an end, we thought it best to act on this desire.  There are several ways to Orkney from Aberdeen.  The first is a 14 hour ferry, but as we were hoping only for a weekend away, this seemed like too much time to waste.  As did the 6 or 7 hours each way if we drove.  So on Thursday night we found ourselves on a little propellor plane heading due North.  It was a really short flight - perhaps 45 minutes - and after a dodgy landing in some fabulous crosswinds, we found ourselves in Kirkwall airport.  We took a quick taxi ride into town and to our hotel for the weekend - the Lynnfield.

The Lynnfield was great.  It was clearly quite old with large public rooms that had a lot of period furniture, books and decor.  The staff was headed up by Malcolm who was an Orkney native and could tell you everything and anything you wanted to know about the islands.  We actually found all the islanders to be quite friendly.  After our bad experience in Prince Edward Island we had tended to lump all island-dwellers together as being surly and protective of their little piece of rock.  The Orkneys were quite different.  We had a great little suite called the Jarl's Room - Jarl being Norwegian for Earl.  We would come across this curious mix of Norse and Scots everywhere on the island.  As the islands belonged to the Norwegians for quite a significant period of history this is hardly surprising.  It leaves its mark in interesting jewellery designs and a historical record littered with the exploits of Viking raiders.

We got a late dinner at the hotel before going to bed.  Fiona had a nice piece of stuffed chicken while I had a piece of smoked haddock wrapped in bacon.  This would be a theme for the weekend.  If you are a fan of smoked fish, the Orkneys are for you.  We topped it off with a wee dram of the good stuff.  The hotel, being right next to the Highland Park distillery, had a really good selection and I took Malcolm's recommendation on a nice 18 year old single malt.  A good way to end the evening.

We woke in the morning and had a nice full Scottish breakfast downstairs.  We took a taxi back to the airport and picked up our rental car, a blue Ford C-Max.  Comfortable and zippy, it was a good touring car.  It easily carried all our stuff.  The only hard thing was the first few minutes where I had to think about changing gears manually again.

We started out of Kirkwall with a nice blue sky and sunshine.  It was a perfect day to be on the road.  Actually it was a perfect day to be behind glass, because when we stopped at our first attraction, the Broch of Gurness, we were stabbed in the face by an icy wind that felt like it came straight from the North Pole.  It was blowing hard, and it did this constantly for the entire weekend.  We quickly developed a respect for the rugged inhabitants, as milder folk would surely have given up for warmer climes.

The Broch of Gurness was a neolithic stone fortress built on the edge of an inlet.  I say a fortress, but that wasn't quite it.  It was more like a fortified house, with a lot of outbuildings.  Given its incredible age it was in remarkable shape.  It was very Scottish in that there was absolutely no one there and we had the run of the place.  It was amazing to think what such primitive people constructed, all in conditions that were likely not much better than the weather on this particular day.  We could at least walk around in layers of modern fabrics knowing a nice toasty car was waiting for us.  They likely had wet wool and a fire inside a draft stone building.  Like I said, tough as nails these islanders.

We left this broch and traveled a half hour further up to the Bay of Birsay, where another broch lay across a tidal flat.  If the tides were right you could cross and see the remains of the broch up close.  There was not much to see, as the Vikings had built a settlement and church over top.  It was all quite interesting, but paled in comparison with the natural beauty of the bay.  Seals were sunning themselves on the rocks and the sand was so white.  In places it was covered by water so clear that you could only tell it was there when wind created some ripples.  On the other side of the peninsula was a scene of unparalleled natural beauty.  Long rows of slanting layered rocks jutted out into the sea which was whipped up into a frenzy by the wind.  The blue of the sea compared with the white of the foam and the brown of the rocks was amazing.  From behind our multiple layers, toques and gloves we admired the scene for quite some time.

We pushed on towards Skara Brae, the immaculately preserved 5000 year old village, but were sidetracked by a sign for a silversmith's shop just off the road.  We pulled in and got a chance to speak to the smith himself.  He was an interesting guy and, together with his wife, he designed and created some fantastic jewellery.  We bought a couple of pendants - one with a Norse design and another with a sea wave.  Both very appropriate for the place.

Skara Brae was cooler than we thought it would be.  That's saying a lot because everyone thinks a 5000 year old village would be pretty cool.  The interpretive centre and recreated house were really well done and you got a good impression of how these people lived.  Viewing the sunken houses together was quite inspiring, given all this was put together long before the pyramids were constructed in Egypt.  It's interesting to ponder what happened to them.

Perhaps they got hungry and moved on.  If so, they should have just gone to the attached cafe, which is what we did.  We had a great panini and a fantastic bowl of soup that came with some of the best bread we have ever tasted.  Suitably fuelled we pushed on to the next neolithic site, Maes Howe.  Finding ourselves too early for the next tour, we bought tickets and then jetted back across a little peninsula between two lochs to the Ring of Brodgar, a group of standing stones.  The ring would be impressive if it were constructed today, but knowing that it was contracted 50 centuries ago by people who didn't have the wheel and somehow managed to lug these multi-tonne stones several miles and then erect them - well, that's something else.  It was a beautiful site.

Our tour of Maes Howe was a highlight of the trip, even though you'd be hard pressed to call it an actual tour.  We really just walked in and stood in one place while the docent told us all about it.  That's because Maes Howe is a buried tomb.  From the outside it just looks like a hillside covered in turf and sheep, but once you crawl through the long tunnel and pop up in the main chamber you are transported into a different time.  It was uncanny how well it was constructed and how it had stood the test of time.  There was a three tonne stone at the entrance that was balanced on a pivot such that a child could open and close it.  The layers were all perfectly level and the doorway aligned with a gap in the surrounding hills such that the setting sun on the winter solstice would bounce off a specific rock and light up one of the shelves in the tomb.  Some of the stones are more than 30 tonnes.  Again, how did they do it?  But one of the cooler things about Maes Howe is that we weren't the first tourists there.  There is ancient graffiti showing that a group of Vikings took shelter in the  tomb in the 11th century.  They left runic inscriptions everywhere, from some back and forth between some guys and the cook, to a joker who wrote "I can write runes really high" on a stone close to the ceiling.  It was endlessly fascinating, yet at some point it ended and we headed back out the entrance.

After a quick view of some more standing stones and a nearby prehistoric village, we were all 'neolithic-ed' out.  We went back to the hotel for a shower before dinner, because the hotel was putting on a 'Gourmet Night' and the best and brightest of Kirkwall were going to attend.  It was a full six courses with a Spanish wine for each course.  Normally this would be something we would really enjoy, and for the most part we did, even eating some gespacho, but after the day we had we were completely shattered and half asleep in our desserts by the time the last wine came around.  It was a cool experience, just misplaced by a day.

The next day we had a quick breakfast and headed out, thinking of taking the ferry to Hoy to go see the Scapa Flow visitor's centre, but the ferry schedule was still in off-season mode and we weren't sure if we could get back, so we stayed on the main island.  We drove to Stromness, with a quick stop along the way to take in an amazing view of the bay and the cliffs of Hoy in the distance.  After stopping for a donut and a pair of winter woolies, we pushed on towards a place called Yesnaby, which was said to have some beautiful cliff top views.  When we got there it was extremely dark and threatening to hail again, so we pushed on towards the Orkney Brewery, whose beers I had been very much enjoying.  Unfortunately we were a few weeks early for the grand opening of their new visitor's centre, so we swung around and again  went back to the cliffs.  By this time the severe weather had passed and we clambered out to get some good shots.  The wind was blowing like nobody's business and we were all bundled up.  Before heading out on a walk we noticed a really cool ribbon of cloud  a kilometre or so out to sea.  Watching it move we decided to postpone our walk a few minutes and sure enough that ribbon snaked its way towards us and left a good inch of hail on the car.  After that it was sunny again and we set out along the cliff tops.  The views were amazing.  It was so rugged.  We made our way to a couple of sea stacks before turning around.

We went back into Kirkwall for lunch where I got a surprisingly good plate of fajitas.  We pushed on to the southern part of the island which had a few cool features.  One was the Churchill Barriers, which Winston had created during WWII to cut off German U-boat access to Scapa Flow, where the British Navy was moored.  Initially there were only some scuttled ships, some of which you could still see, but a U-boat got through and sank the HMS Royal Oak.  We were a little ticked we couldn't get to see the Visitor's centre as there is quite a history at Scapa Flow.  After WWI the surrendered German Navy was taken there.  Pictures of the entire fleet in Scapa Flow are everywhere on the island.  One day, however, while the British backs were turned, the Germans scuttled all their ships.  Apparently the wrecks make excellent scuba diving.

Churchill used POW labour to build his barriers and a group of Italians which built one also built a little chapel for themselves using only two huts and the material they had at hand.  They decorated it using iron work made from bean tins and painted grand scenes in the interior.  It was definitely worth seeing.  After a couple more artsy stops we went back to the hotel and washed up for dinner.  There was a large party in the dining room celebrating a ruby wedding anniversary and a birthday.  Malcolm managed to squeeze us in and we had another nice dinner followed by drinks on a large comfy couch in the lounge.  The anniversary party came in as well and offered us some of their cake.  While the talked amongst themselves we took our drinks and settled down in our couch with an old book from the shelves of the room.  Quaintly Victorian, it was entitled "the 50 Strangest Crimes of the Last 100 Years".  We read it together, concentrating on the case of Rose Harsent, who was likely having an affair with Mr. Gardiner.  All signs pointed to the married Mr. Gardiner killing Rose after she told him she was with child, but juries twice refused to convict and the case was never officially solved.  The old detective novel style and the Victorian attention to details we now find inconsequential made it hard to put down.

The next day we slept in a bit and decided to head for the east coast of the island, the only part we had not seen.  We drove all the way out the tip and came across a feature called the Gloup, which was a gigantic gash in the land running out into the sea through a narrow hole.  It was fascinating, with different kinds of birds nesting in the rock ledges.  Birds played an big part of the rest of the day as we toured the islands.  We saw an owl hovering in the strong wind along a fence line.  Fiona hopped out and got a picture, but before she could adjust her settings he was gone again.  We tried to track him for a bit, but never found him again.  We toured the countryside for a bit before heading back into Kirkwall for a great pub lunch.  We left the car and walked into downtown Kirkwall to see St. Magnus Cathedral, which is larger and more magnificent than we thought we could expect in so small a town.  It brought together perfectly the cross between Norway and Scotland that is so typical of the Orkneys.  There were fabulously old grave stones, amazing mosaics and a wonderful memorial to John Rae, one of the great unknown explorer's of Canada's Arctic.  He was mostly dismissed in his time for 'going native' but his methods were effective and he was the one that ended up finding the remains of the Franklin expedition, or at least proof that it had met a grisly end.

With our time on the island running out we fuelled up the car (whole weekend of driving - 3/4 of a tank!) and went back to the airport.  We were soon on the plane again, up, down, and back in the car heading back home.  And so ends the Saga of the Aberdonian Viking Rikwulf and his fair maiden Fionahild.  Let it be said that their time was glorious and filled with adventure.













































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