Change
of hostel this morning as the one I was staying in was booked but
this only involved a wander up the street to drop my stuff off.
After
yesterday's successes I headed out of town a bit, stuck my thumb out
and got a lift from an Italian tourist who wasn't too fussed where he
was going so readily agreed to take me to Birsay Palace and drop me
off.
Birsay Palace |
This
piece of good luck meant I had time to wander around the palace, pick
up some picnic stuff in the village store and head out to the
causeway to the Brough of Birsay, which by this time was uncovered.
Causeway to the Brough |
Pictish Longhouse |
Wandered
across to the Brough, had a walk around the old Viking longhouse
remains and the Pictish remains then walked up the island to the
lighthouse and the cliffs and next stop Greenland if you weren't
careful as the wind was blowing a good one.
Birsay Lighthouse |
Had
my picnic sheltered in the remains of one of the Pictish houses then
wandered back to Birsay Palace, just as the bus to Kirkwall arrived.
This seemed like far too good timing to pass on (and ironically, it
was the bus I would have been getting off, if I hadn't hitched) so
jumped on and headed to Kirkwall for a recce as I was moving through
to the hostel there the next day.
Had
a wander around the cathedral and town centre before getting the bus
back to Stromness.
St Magnus Cathedral |
The Bishop's Palace |
Great
music, great acoustics and some amusing (if perhaps a little
well-worn anecdotes) from the boys meant it was well worth seeing.
(Robbie Shephard's reading of a request for Angus who was 111 last
week, oh no he wasn't he was ill, an interesting account of a flight
from Shetland to Fair Isle etc.)
Anyway,
true to form, headed to the Stromness Hotel and again attempted to
buy a round and again wasn't allowed. A couple of pints and a couple
of Highland Parks later and I realise that Aly Bain and Phil
Cunningham have joined the table as they are friends with the couple
from the boat. So we sat and discussed nationalist politics. As you
do.
Friday
1st August
Remarkably
hangover free ( I have found that these diminish while travelling but
don't quote me on that after Belladrum this weekend), 'twas up,
organise and head to Kirkwall this morning as there was a wedding
happening in Stromness and everywhere was fully booked.
I
knew I wouldn't be able to check in at the SYHA hostel in Kirkwall
until later that day so I was wondering what I was going to do with
the miraculous weight changing rucksack but the lovely people at the
visitor centre (conveniently located right next to the bus station)
only charge £1.00 per item for left luggage so problem solved.
As
the weather was a bit undecided about what to do with itself, and
because it was lunchtime and mostly because I could, a tour round the
Highland Park distillery seemed in order. Naturally, this has nothing
to do with learning how they make the stuff as I have been on enough
distillery tours to know they don't vary that much, but has
everything to do with the free drams at the end and the discount in
the distillery shop.
However,
Highland Park are one of only five distilleries who still do their
own floor malting so that made a nice change (Laphroaig,Balvenie,
Springbank and I'm having a memory blank are the others).
Anyway,
the tasting at the end was rather disappointingly (but
understandably) of the 12 and 15 yr olds - you always hope you might
get a treat of something older when it's quiet as it was today as
they're in their silent season or non-producing time when they do all
their maintenance work. Still it meant the tour was cheaper.
The
12 yr old is the basic that I am very familiar with. The 15yr old was
good but a bit too sweet for my liking. However, the shop was
offering a bottle of the 12yr old with a free 50ml bottle of the
18yrold for the same price as just the 12yr old so it didn't take
much arm twisting for me to invest. The 18yr old, as remembered from
a speed whisky tasting in Embra a year or so ago, is
fantastic and needless to say has been drunk. The 12yr old is being
kept for Belladrum.
After
the tour and now fortified, I headed back into town (the distillery
is right on the outskirts) with a small detour to actually find the
youth hostel. As expected, it wasn't open till 5 so back into the
centre of town feeling rather aimless.
A
rather heavy downpour quickly decided me that being in the pub was a
good way to spend a Friday afternoon and so it was.
As
is typical, you can't go anywhere without bumping into someone with
connections, and in this instance it was some locals who now live in
Embra and drink in the pub across the street from my usual pub there.
However,
this meant a few games of pool and some more free drinks (I know, I
know, I do actually pay for them occasionally, I promise!)
In
another strange twist, despite the opportunity of a session, I did
remember that all my gear was still in left luggage and that I needed
to retrieve it before 8pm. As I also needed to do some food shopping,
I cut short the drinking, headed to Tesco and Lidl (Kirkwall is so
big city compared with Stromness!!!), retrieved my stuff and headed
to the hostel.
Wasn't
overly impressed by the welcome, but the poor lass was rather
stressed as apparently there had been some thefts of food recently
and they had had to tighten their security measures. I got a bit of a
culture shock about the whole being locked out thing after the
freedom of the independents.
Had
a quiet night, reading and was in bed by 11 (shocking I know).
Saturday
2nd August
Up
at 8, out of the hostel by 9.30, and sat in the Pomona Cafe with a
coffee and bacon roll by 9.45. I could, of course, have made my own
breakfast but, as you all know, mornings are not my best time of day
and dealing with a hostel kitchen when I'm snarly is not a good plan.
Anyway,
had a bus to catch down to the Italian Chapel on Lamb's Holm.
Scapa Flow |
The
sun was out, the view over Scapa Flow was stunning, and I even
managed to squeeze in between tour buses to get some photos of the
chapel interior when empty. It truly is an amazing transformation of
a Nissen hut.
Found
the pub, found their beer garden, miraculously empty, and enjoyed a
good sit in the sun with a glass of wine and my book.
Decided
that I would rather be sat near the sea on such a glorious day,so
acquired some lunch from the small shop and spent the rest of the
afternoon being ridiculously lazy, sat on the grass by the sea in the
lovely quiet sunshine.
Watched
the ferry from Gill's Bay come in and made a mental note to always
sail from Scrabster as it looked rather small and decrepit.
I
was the only passenger on the bus back from St Margaret's Hope to
Kirkwall, where I had another quiet night but a good blether with my
temporary room mates. One of the pleasures of this kind of trip
(indeed, in life) is the random exchanges of life stories with
strangers. I do occasionally think about fabricating a whole
different existence for myself, just for the the hell of it, but I
actually quite like my real life so I tend to stick to the truth.