The London Olympic Torch comes to Glasgow

Date: 08-09 June 2012

London will be hosting the 2012 Olympics later on this summer. Part of the Olympic pageantry, which I am a huge fan, involves the Torch Relay. The Torch Relay starts in Greece where the torch is lit by the power of the sun at the Temple of Hera. From there, the Olympic Flame is carried by symbolic torches designed for each Olympic host city and transported around to all regions, districts, landmarks, and sights in the host country before entering the Olympic Stadium on the night of the Opening Ceremonies where it is used to light the official Olympic Cauldron at the host stadium. While the Olympic Flame has been part of the modern games since Amsterdam in 1928, the Torch Relay was first carried out during the controversial Nazi-run 1936 Olympic games in Berlin. Out of controversy springs a fantastic new tradition, however, that allows each host country to showcase their cultures, landscapes, and histories with the rest of the world in the weeks and months leading up to the Games.

In the UK, the Torch started a number of weeks back and made its way from the southwest of England into Wales and Northern Ireland, stopping at castles, the mountains of Snowdonia in Wales, the Giant's Causeway in N. Ireland, and eventually back over to Britain where it made its way into Glasgow last Friday. Scotland and the UK have been having battling over a Scottish Independence Movement that is currently in full-swing and there was a general buzz of concern whether the Glaswegians would be as supportive of the Games being hosted in the capital city of the country from which many want to secede. The issue of the role of the Scottish nation in the Olympics was recently in the news as the London Olympic Committee told Scotland they would have to take down their National Flag at their National Stadium in Edinburgh while initial Soccer games were being played there. Scotland balked and the London Olympic Committee gave them permission to fly the Saltire, which they said they never forbade in the first place (the International Olympic Committee also said they never would have supported the removal of the Scottish National Flag, for the record!).

George Square in the morning, setting up for the nighttime festivities

The worries ended up being totally unfounded as thousands of people showed up to line the Torch Relay route in multiple different suburbs of the city and eventually into the City Center. There were flags being flown of all countries and people of all different nationalities out supporting their colors, including myself (though I really had to search hard to find a US-themed shirt or jersey or flag in Glasgow, eventually settling on a US Olympic Football jersey).

My friends and I went out to watch the Torch pass the University of Glasgow's Main Gate and then tried catching the subway into town to see it as it passed through on its way to a ticketed concert event in George Square, which we didn't have tickets to, but ate dinner nearby at DiMaggio's (Olympic Pizza special was awesome!) hoping to hear the music. We couldn't hear anything but went elsewhere to watch the Euro 2012 football matches for a little while. The concert ended fairly early and things began to be dismantled in George Square, which soon reopened to the public and we then got some fun photos by an awesome sculpture of the Olympic Rings.

Passing on the Torch in front of the University of Glasgow

Olympic Rings in George Square in front of the City Chambers

The next morning, the Torch Relay started off at the Riverside Museum on the tallship docked there, probably in honor of Glasgow's past and present ship-building industry. My neighbor and I woke up super early (6am) to get to the museum in time where I fulfilled my goal of getting my photo taken with the torch and to touch the torch, which is difficult to do in a non-awkward way because the torch bearers are not allowed to let go of the torch, but I succeeded in my mission! The torch was lit from little lanterns which house the flame when it's not being run along the route or when it's in transit by plane, or boat, or bus, or whatever. With the torch lit, the relay began and the bearer ran around the museum, past a bagpipe troupe, and off through Glasgow on its way up to Loch Lomond.

Me with the torch!

The Torch is lit on the Glenlee at the Riverside Museum

It was a brief, but very celebratory few days and I'm so glad I got to participate in the festivities, even as remotely as cheering on the flame as it passed through a city hundreds of miles away from where the Games will actually be. Photos from the festivities are below! Happy Olympics!

Goodbye, Orkney Islands! Now, where's my wallet?

Trip Date: 05 June 2012

Today was bittersweet. I was ready to get back to my friends in Glasgow, but I was not ready to leave Orkney. One of the men who shared my room at the Kirkwall Peedie Hostel was a former(/current) reporter for the BBC who had never been and was staying for two weeks! I was very jealous of him.

Well, my bus was supposed to leave at 9am to go back to the South Ronaldsay dock to go back to John O'Groats and then on to Inverness, so I had to get up pretty early. I did one last walkthrough of Kirkwall's City Center and picked up a few snacks from the grocery store for my ride home (Haribo and peanuts) and got on the bus. It was only then that I realized I didn't have my wallet. Immediately stressed, I asked the bus driver how much time I had: 3-4 minutes. I threw my bag out onto the pavement and emptied its contents but couldn't find it. I knew it wasn't at the hostel because I checked everything before I left, and I knew, for once, that I hadn't been pick-pocketed (it's Orkney!), but I couldn't find it. Not wanting to leave the bus, I tried thinking what I had done with it the night before because I knew I must have put it somewhere that I couldn't forget it. Not in my pocket, not in my coat, not in my bag....oh, that's right...I put it in the toe of my hiking boots which were strung onto my backpack. I'm an idiot. So I repacked my bag, with my wallet safely back in my pants pocket, and got back onto the bus where I was met with a round of applause, hahaha!

The bus drove back over the Churchill Barriers where I got some nice parting shots of the blockships at a lower tide with perfectly calm waters. And then, once more, we waited a few moments at the ferry dock and I climbed a peedie bluff and watched the ferry captain navigate the waters and rocky reefs with an outgoing tide like a pro! It was a little bit more gray of a day, but I stood out on top of the ferry the whole ride back to take in all the beautiful scenery of Scapa Flow and the Pentland Firth one last time before I was sitting back down in my seat on a bus.

Blockships at low-tide and still water

Swift out-going tide creating whitewater on shallow rocky reefs

Little purple flowers on the bluffs at the Burwick ferry dock on South Ronaldsay

Awesome folded bedding planes along the coast on South Ronaldsay

You can see just how shallow the water can be during low-tide in the Pentwater Firth. This is why ship captains have to be so careful when navigating the waters!

Back in Inverness, it was suggested I get lunch at a little American restaurant just around the corner from the train station. It was good, I'll have to say, but I realized as soon as I sat down that I'd left my coat (with my camera lens in the pocket) in the overhead bin on the bus! I asked my server if he'd watch my stuff while I ran back to the bus station. But the bus was no longer there! It quickly dawned on me that it wasn't quite 1:45pm yet and that the bus would have to be back to start it's trip back to John O'Groats at 2:20, so I called the company on my way back to the restaurant to tell them I'd be looking for my coat, and sat down to enjoy my delicious cheeseburger! At 2:10 I was back at the bus station where I luckily was able to retrieve my coat, with camera lens still there, and sat down in the travel center until my bus for Glasgow came around, not wanting to go anywhere in case I forget yet another item somewhere...

But soon enough I was home, walking into my flat in Glasgow. It had been a fantastic 4-day trip to one of the most beautiful and historic places I'd ever been to! Looking back through the photos and writing these blog posts has just reminded me so much why I love to travel. It makes you realize who you are as a person and how you fit in to this tiny little rotating ball in the sky we call home.

The Old Man of Hoy and Maeshowe

Travel Date: 04 June 2012
(Slideshow of photos at the bottom)

Today was much less hassling trying to get around. Buses were back up to their full schedules as were the ferries between islands. I got up early enough to hop a bus back to Stromness from Kirkwall and then had 10 minutes to get onto the little passenger ferry, taking me out to the island of Hoy. It was another sunny day, though still chilly, that provided me with great views of Stromness as we pulled out of the harbor and into the tidally forceful Scapa Flow. There was a little story I read, I think at the Flattie Bar yesterday while in Stromness, that described life on the water: people living there were sailors and fishermen by trade so they were very comfortable being on the water, but the kids who had their own little boats (the Flatties of the pub's name) were warned to not sail past black buoys placed out near the mouth of the harbor because from there on out, the tides and currents were much to strong and would carry them away, out to sea.

Leaving Stromness Harbor

Today, though, the ferry easily navigates the tides and we pulled out into the channel between mainland Orkney and Hoy. Again, here was an entrance to the protected harbor where the WWI and WWII British Navy Fleets were stationed, so you can still see the old watch-houses and bunkers along the islands that were used to protect that channel entrance from any German threat. They are abandoned now, but still stand in silent guard.

WWI/WWI-era look-outs on the shore of the isle of Graemsay with mountainous Hoy in the background

Hoy is a beautiful island. It has the most topography of any of the Orkney Islands and was visibly sculpted by glaciers during the last Glacial Maximum. One of its more modern features, however, is the Old Man of Hoy, the United Kingdom's tallest seastack (450 feet high)! A seastack is a tower of rock separated from the rest of a cliff-lined coast. They form as wave action strikes a rocky promontory, and as the waves refract around the head of the point, they erode the neck from two sides. Eventually, the neck of the promontory totally erodes through and all that is left is a giant stack of rock out to sea: hence the name seastack.

Docking at the isle of Hoy

To get out to the Old Man of Hoy, you have a few options. You can prearrange a cab to pick you up at the ferry dock, you can sign up for a guided tour, you can bike out there, or you can hike the 6.5 miles from the docks, through glacially sculpted valleys, and then up to the site. I bought some new hiking boots when I was in Michigan for my sister's wedding and since I didn't want to pay for a bike rental or a cab, I decided to hike. The first mile and a half are all up a one-lane road leading away from the ferry dock, through sheep pastures, and through some moors. The road eventually turns, but hikers continue the next two and a half miles through the glacial valleys, which are protected as part of the Scottish National Bird Sanctuary. Because of this, though, I was warned by a local Orcadian that you kind of have to keep your eyes open for any divebombing Great Skua birds (called, Bonxies by the locals). They kind of soar around above you and if you get too close to their nests, they will squawk and dive toward you. I won't lie, I had a few stones in my hands just in case, and even shouted at a few that I thought were flying too close to me! There was a little reservoir up in the valley that most of the bonxies stuck to, and once I was past that, they were no longer a problem!

The lonely road out to the hiking path to Rackwick on the isle of Hoy

Watch out for the dive-bombing bonxies!

Further down the valley, tucked away in little stream valleys, are some of the last remaining wild Orcadian forest, that used to cover much of the islands. Over 5,000 years of constant settlement and agriculture, it's no wonder there is little left of these forests. But then the trail reconnects with the road which ends not much further in the little town (if you can call it that) of Rackwick.

Some of the original, most northerly native woodland in the British Isles

Rackwick is literally the end of the road, but it is a beautiful end of the road with a wide, sweeping beach with turquoise water, nestled between huge, enormous, sandstone cliffs. And I'm not talking 100-foot-high Sydney Coastal Walk cliffs, or even 200-foot-high Pictured Rocks cliffs, or even 400-foot-high Cliffs of Moher. These cliffs jut up 500-feet from the ocean far below (and they aren't even the tallest, which rise up over 1,000 feet!). So Rackwick is a beautiful end of the road, but not the end of the journey out to the Old Man of Hoy, which still requires a two and a quarter mile hike along cliffs and over coastal plateaus. But once you are there, it is such a treat! Standing 450-feet up from the ocean, far below, is this behemoth of stacked beds of sandstone, flanked to the south by similarly-high cliffs, and to the north by the massive 1,000 foot cliffs! Now, believe me when I say that the Cliffs of Moher are beautiful and stunning, but the fact that they are so accessible and overrun by tourists makes them a bit less wonderous, compared to these massive cliffs that only those willing enough to hike a few miles will ever get to.

Old British Telephone booth at the Rackwick Hostel, looking down at the town and the massive sea cliffs

The Old Man of Hoy: 450 feet tall and the tallest sea-stack in the UK

Me with the sea cliffs north of the Old Man of Hoy

Puffins! This was the best shot I could get, even with my 18x zoom lens... But some birdwatchers there told me of better places closer to Glasgow I can go to get better photos

I stayed out at the cliffs for a little while, enjoying my packed lunch of cheese, jerky, an apple, biscuits, and crisps, watching the sea birds (mostly seagulls, but I did see some puffins, too! - just very, very far below me...) and chatting with a few of the other visitors who were from all over the place: Germany, southern England, California... They all had a few good stories and we each helped the others take photos. It did start to sprinkle, just a thin band of rain, but it was also time to head back to the ferry dock. I wanted to take a more rigorous route up above the massive cliffs to the north, but being alone, without a detailed map, and on a time constraint, I decided it would be better to go back the way I came and leave the high-cliff route for another time. Back toward the ferry dock, a lot of tourists were having an afternoon tea at a little cafe. It was nice, but definitely priced more for the retired clientele who have a little bit more pocket change than your average student day-hiker, but I bought an Irn-Bru and gave my feet a rest in the yard, watching a chicken hobble around.

I had to catch the first afternoon ferry back to Stromness in order to get the right bus out to Maeshowe, which I wasn't able to get in yesterday. We had to wait for the ferry a little bit but it gave me time to explore the exposed rocky shoreline during low tide, which was covered in barnacles, limpets, algae, and seaweed. The ferry came and brought us back to Stromness where I had a little extra time before the bus, so I bought a beer at the Ferry Inn and listened to one final jam session by the remaining musicians in town for the Orkney Folk Festival. But then it was bus time and back to Maeshowe.

Limpets stuck to the bedrock at Hoy Harbor during low tide. As water washes over them, it erodes little pockets around each limpet creating a pitted pattern on the rock.

Maeshowe is a fantastic Neolithic site, nearly 5,000 years old. You have to book a tour in advance, and in the summer there are extra "twilight" tours in the evenings, which aren't really twilight since the sun pretty much never sets. To get into Maeshowe, you have to stoop quite low and walk through a ten-meter passageway lined in massive, single blocks of stone. Once inside, you're able to stand up in a square chamber with what was once a corbelled ceiling (but is now a poorly constructed brick dome structure put in place in the early 1900s). Maeshowe is similar to other chambered tombs of the area in that opposite the door and on either side wall are two recessed and L-shaped chambers. In other tombs of this age, human bones have been found stored in these chambers, grouped by bone-type, rather than full skeletons. It is thought that Maeshowe served a similar purpose but very few bones have actually been found there. It may have also served a more ceremonial purpose, archaeologists think, suggested by the fact that the entrance to the tomb directly faces the setting sun on the Winter Solstice. Curiously, on the solstice, the sun sets behind the massive mountains of Hoy, and it is thought that they also served some spiritual purpose. Furthermore, the ceremonial significance of Maeshowe is suggested by its proximity to the Standing Stones of Stenness, the Ring and Ness of Brodgar, and the Barnhouse Village.

In the 12th century, multiple groups of Vikings were vying for control of Orkney and one group started off one morning in Stromness but got caught in a storm and took shelter in Maeshowe, leaving cryptic messages of the runic alphabet carved into some of the stones. They spoke of the treasures of the North and one claimed to be a master writer of runes who and carved his message using a very famous axe, used to slay Gauk - don't ask me the history of that; all I know is that the axe was well-known.

My favorite bit about Maeshowe, though, again were the slabs of rock. The entrance tunnel was lined and covered with ten-meter long single slabs of sandstone, and the lintel above each of the recesses off the main chamber, which were five meters by at least three meters, were each carved of a single slab of rock. How those people 5,000 years ago were able to move such large pieces of rock over large distances still baffles me as well as archaeologists, and as to how it was done is still anyone's guess.

In front of the entrance to Maeshowe. No photos are allowed inside, but it's pretty amazing

One last look over to the Ring of Brodgar

Upon leaving the tomb, I gave one last look around the landscape, taking a few more photos, before heading back to the visitors center to wait for the last bus into Kirkwall. I bought a few postcards and got some good music suggestions from the woman working the shop, and indulged myself into a wee tub of ice cream from the Orkney Creamery, which was delicious (I suggest the Toffee Swirl and the Orkney Original).

Back in Kirkwall, I ran into some girls who were out at the Old Man of Hoy when I was there that day, and we chatted a while over some coffees and snacks in a little craft shop/coffee house, Judith Glue. The girls were fun to chat with, but they had already eaten dinner and I needed some substantial food before 9pm, so I said goodbye to them and headed out to see my final fish and chips of the trip. I caught the shop just before they closed and took my food out to the harbor to eat. It wasn't quite 10pm yet and I realized that I did want to purchase something to remember Orkney by, and I went back to Judith Glue (which stays open until 10pm!) and purchased a few prints done by a local artist and a bottle of Dark Island, brewed by the Orkney Brewery - as suggested by a man at the pub where I got dinner the night before - and headed back to my hostel where I watched the Queen's Diamond Jubilee concert at Buckingham Palace and wrote my postcards. That night, as part of the Jubilee, beacons, or torches or bonfires, were being lit around the UK and the world in commonwealth countries. Stromness had their own beacon and I was tipped that Kirkwall would be having their own as well on top of a radio-antennae hill visible from the hostel's kitchen window. I kept getting up to see if I could see the fire, but it was either too small or they didn't have one, so I stayed in, repacking my bags, and finally dozing off to sleep.

My legs were sore, feet were covered in blisters, and my brain hurt from trying to piece together all the Orcadian history I had taken in over the past few days. But I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow and I would soon be saying goodbye to this beautiful but chilly island paradise of northern Scotland.

Orkney by Bicycle and Kirkwall Sights

Travel Date: 03 June 2012
(There is a slideshow with more of my photos from this post at the bottom of this page.)

As I was trying to go to sleep last night, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get around Orkney today for one reason: it's Sunday. In America, Sundays really aren't much different than the other days of the week; shops close at 7pm instead of 9pm and you can't buy booze in Michigan until after noon, but bus schedules and businesses typically stay open. This is not the case in Europe and definitely not the case in Orkney. You get around Orkney on Sunday by your own vehicle (which I didn't have), a bike (which I couldn't get because the rental companies were closed), by hitchhiking (which I am reluctant to try), or by bus (which ran maybe six return journeys between Kirkwall and Stromness). Thus, my choice was clear - bus it was.

I got up early enough to take the bus into Stromness. I tried accessing the internet on my phone, which had a °-symbol where the 3G or E symbol usually is. As someone explained it to me, having ° is like having 2G (if there were such a thing). Regardless, I tried accessing the bike rental companies' websites to see if they were indeed closed on Sundays. The one was definitely closed, but I couldn't tell if Orkney Cycle Hire was open or not. So once in Stromness, I started wandering around the town, praying for a miracle, but deciding that Stromness wouldn't be all that bad of a place to get stranded for the day - afterall, the Orkney Folk Festival was in its last day and there were plenty of musicians around.

Stromness is a beautiful town. There is only one main road going through the central bit with one or two smaller roads running parallel up the hill and multiple other spur-roads (they were more alleyways) that turned off the main street. The main road was narrow, only wide enough for maybe a car and a pedestrian, and was in-laid with flagstone and cobbles. Above your head, zig-zagging all the way from the end of town into the town square in front of the Stromness hotel and harbor is a strand of colorful pennants like the type you'd see strung around a car dealership's lot. It was early and not too many people were out, but then my prayers were answered as I saw a sign for Orkney Cycle Hire and an arrow pointing to a patio where a man was walking out with a bike! I could rent a bike! I was so happy because I really wanted to do my sightseeing and now I'd be able to! I paid for my bike, an 18-gear hybrid, and zoomed down the narrow, empty streets of Stromness to a wee general store where  I picked up a few snacks for my day, and then pedaled out of town.

Orkney is not mountainous, so there are no really steep hills, but it's not flat either. I quickly learned that I was out of shape, though I soon got used to pedaling up the long inclines that are too steep to be flat, but too shallow to walk your bike up a short distance and coast down the hills. But it didn't matter, I was on two wheels, on an empty road, cycling past cows and sheep under a blue sky. My first stop was one of Orkney's do-not-miss sites that my Orkney Explorer pass covered entrance: the burial tomb of Maeshowe (pronounced mays-HOW), which is part of the Heart of Neolithic Orkney UNESCO World Heritage Site which includes all of the sites I had on my list. I got to Maeshowe only to be told that I was supposed to sign up for a tour time and that I could come back later that afternoon. I rescheduled for the following afternoon since my biking route wouldn't take me back toward Maeshowe that day again, but determined to carry on.

Maeshowe

Just down the road from Maeshowe is a solitary standing stone called the Barnhouse Stone. It sits in the middle of a plowed field, surrounded by a square fence, maybe 3 meters on each side, so you can't really get to it, but interestingly, it is the smallest UNESCO-protected cultural site by area. Pretty cool!

The Barnhouse Stone

Two large lakes dominate the landscape here and a low ridge separating them is home to a host of other neolithic sites, the next of which I visited were the Standing Stones of Stenness. Originally, there were 11 (maybe 12) stones, 5-meters high, in a circle surrounding a central hearth, all of which was surrounded by a deep ditch that was only traversed by an earthen causeway. The site, like Maeshowe, is nearly 5000 years old and is thought to have been a ceremonial site. A few meters away in one direction is the Watchstone, of the same age, and a few meters in the other direction is a recent discovery of a settlement, Barnhouse Village, also 5,000 years old.

Standing Stones of Stenness

Barnhouse Village

Barnhouse Village was only discovered in 1984 by archaeologists who soon uncovered the foundations to eight structures including two ceremonial structures: one was larger than the other domestic structures of the village, and the other appeared to be two domestic structures fused into one - very much unlike the other structures here and at the nearby Skara Brae (see below).


In the same vicinity, sort of between the Watchstone, Stones of Stenness, and Barnhouse Village was yet another massive stone (the Odin Stone) that early drawings show having a hold carved through it. However, a non-Orcadian farmer moved to the site in the early 1800s and fussed that people were traipsing over his land, so he smashed the massive Odin Stone as well as some of the Stones of Stenness but was fortunately stopped by a massive protest by the locals. It is thought that this site in Orkney held particular significance of some kind due to the large number of sites being used at the same time including the Stones of Stenness, Barnhouse Village, Maeshowe, and the nearby Ring of Brodgar and Ness of Brodgar. It is even supposed that neolithic people from all over met at the Stones of Stenness for spiritual ceremonies here.

Down along the ridge that separates the two lakes (one of which is freshwater, while the other is salt water), past the Watchstone are even more neolithic structures. The Ring of Brodgar is a circle of stones, each of different sizes, shapes, and heights, on the perimeter of this wide henge (or flat circular area surrounded by a deep ditch). The site originally had 60 stones, only 27 of which are still seen today. I spent quite a while at the Ring of Brodgar taking it all in from many different angles, walking around its perimeter, and having my own guess at its purpose. I'm not sure what it is about neolithic sites that fascinates me. Maybe it's the fact that as a geologist, I'm drawn to stone structures? Maybe it's astronomical precision with which these stones are aligned? Maybe it's their antiquity? Maybe it's the fact that with all of our modern knowledge, we still have no clue as to what their purpose was? Maybe it's a combination of all the above; I'm not sure, but I could spend a very long time at these sites conjecturing.

Ring of Brodgar

 It started to drizzle and I decided to take off to the site that made me want to come to Orkney in the first place: Skara Brae. I first heard of the ancient village of Skara Brae while listening to Bill Bryson's book, At Home: A Short History of Private Life, on tape driving to Michigan from Vermont last summer. I usually ear-tag pages in books I find interesting, but since I was driving, I couldn't do any more than search for some scrap paper and scribble down the name of this village, having no idea how it was spelled and hoping that I'd be able to decipher my scribbles later. Like the Barnhouse Village, Skara Brae was discovered by accident after a terrible storm struck the British Isles, killing hundreds of people. The storm ripped away the grassy field that covered this coastal site, revealing to the locals for the first time an intact village, 5,000 year old, with numerous dwellings and walkways connecting them. The dwellings all had the same internal plan, indicating that all inhabitants lived as equals to each other, and furniture including stone beds, dressers, hearths, and storage places were all intact. Unfortunately, some locals having a party in the nearby Skaill House decided to go investigate and knicked many of the original artifacts from Skara Brae.

Two things interested me about Skara Brae when listening to At Home. Firstly, of all the dwelling places, there was one that while it was set up just like the others was situated with a stone door to the entryway that could be shut and locked only from the outside. While the other houses at Skara Brae had doors, none were fitted with the locking mechanism, so it raises the question, what use could a seemingly peaceful community have for a dwelling place where someone could be shut and locked in? The second interesting bit that caught my attention was that some of the storage chambers at Skara Brae were fitted with drains and plumbing. Now, these weren't just stone alcoves with a hole in the bottom, but actual conduits leading away from the houses, draining into the ocean. It is remarkable that this society, older than Stonehenge and the Pyramids of Egypt, had the wherewithal to install drainage systems into their village, something that doesn't show up in other civilizations for another few centuries (and very far away, at that!).

Actually visiting Skara Brae was amazing (oh, by the way, it's also covered under the Orkney Explorer Pass). I hadn't realized that all of the passageways connecting the houses would have been covered, but the ceilings were so low that one would have to crouch to navigate their way through. Also, while the houses were mostly set up the same way, one of the houses had a storage chamber behind their stone dresser, only accessible by crawling under the dresser shelves, as if it were a hiding place. So many questions to be answered but with excavation being complete at the site (once a historic site is designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, no more excavation can be carried out), and much of the original artifacts having been looted, we can only rely on supposition based on excavations of similar sites elsewhere. It is fortunate the site actually is protected, however, as coastal erosion in the Skaill Bay would have otherwise continued to eat away at the sand banks Skara Brae is built on, resulting in the site being lost to the ocean forever.

Skara Brae

Time was marching on and I needed to get back to Stromness in time to catch the last bus back to Kirkwall, so I hopped back on my bike and pedaled back to town. The bike ride back to Stromness was equally as beautiful as everything else I'd biked through. Orkney really is a biker's dream: wide, empty roads, quiet, with few cars passing (and those that do, even the tour buses, are sure to give you plenty of space and very non-threatening). My legs were happy to get a few nice long descents where I could just coast and talk to the cows and sheep as I went past.

With my bike returned, I did have a little time left to waste in Stromness, so I headed into the Flattie Bar just at the base of the Stromness Hotel, ordered a Scapa Special (from the Orkney Brewing Company), and drank it outside amongst the people celebrating the last night of the Folk Festival, under the waving flag of the Orkney Islands.

I got back to Kirkwall around 5pm and decided to do some sightseeing in Kirkwall, too. Right near St. Magnus Cathedral is the Earl's Palace, which was built in 1606 by Earl Patrick Stewart, half-brother to Mary, Queen of Scots, who granted him the Crown estates of Orkney and Shetland. Earl Patrick was considered to be an evil man who eventually had to sell his palace to pay for some debts, was jailed in Edinburgh, and killed on accounts of Treason. The palace fell into the hands of the Orkney Bishop, whose palace itself was just across the courtyard, and at one point connected. All that remains of either palace now are the stone walls, the rest having been destroyed in retaliation for Earl Patrick's treason. You can still walk around the ruins of the Earl's Palace and the Bishop's Palace and even climb the stairs up to the tops of some of the towers where you are rewarded with magnificent views of the Cathedral.

My mother would have scolded me big-time if I didn't take time to stop in the cathedral, so that was next on the list. It is a massive structure, built from red sandstone found throughout the island. Originally a Catholic church, and the seat of the Bishop, it was converted to a Protestant church during the English Reformation, and stripped of all Catholic symbolism, which is why many of the windows are no longer inlaid with stained glass. The rose window at the end of the nave faces west, and at 7pm in the Orkney summer, the sun shines right through the rose window, splashing color over the insides of the church in a beautiful way. Unfortunately, the organ wasn't being played, which would have made the visit extra special.

Sunset illuminating St. Magnus Cathedral

Finally, I was hungry and since it was still before 9pm, I headed to Helgi's for a beef pie and some more local beers from the Highland and Orkney Brewing Companies (the Orkney IPA and Northern Lights). I chatted with some locals while watching the BBC coverage of the Queen's Flotilla down the River Thames in London for her Diamond Jubilee, and then with a young guy from Florida who was taking on an apprenticeship at the Highland Park Distillery, which I'll have to visit next time I'm there.

Before it got too late, however, there was one more thing I wanted to see, and I knew I wouldn't have time to get to it tomorrow: the Churchill Barriers. We'd driven across the barriers on the coach ride into Kirkwall from the ferry docks, but I wanted to get a better look, so I hired a cab to quickly take me out there and back. The Orkney Islands surround a large, well-protected harbor called Scapa Flow. During the World Wars, the British used Scapa Flow as a home-base for their naval fleet. At the end of WWI the German naval fleet was in surrender in Scapa Flow, waiting to hear the results of the Treaty of Versailles. The message that Germany surrendered did not reach the German Commander of the fleet by the pre-arranged time, so he ordered his entire fleet of 74 vessels to scuttle themselves so that their ships could not fall into the hands of the British, who watched in horror as the boats all began to sink into the depths of the water.

If that isn't a good enough story, Scapa Flow's WWII history is even better, if better is the right term. The British Navy was based up at Scapa during the war and was constantly on the watch for German u-boats who might try and break through one of the dozens of channels between the islands to get into the harbor. Churchill sank numerous vessels to block some of these paths, while installing underwater mines and anti-submarine nets at others. Many of these structures built to guard the island channels are still standing today, even. But the story picks up when a German u-boat commander got a hold of aerial photos of one of the channels and decided that he could squeeze his boat between one of the British vessels holding one side of an anti-submarine net and the shore. And this is exactly what happened. The u-boat nearly ran aground sneaking around the anti-submarine nets, but did make it into the harbor and after making a few rounds torpedoed and sunk one of the British Battleships before making its escape. Over 800 men lost their lives in the attack. After the attack, Winston Churchill sent Italian POWs up to Scapa to build massive cement blockades across some of the narrower channels, including the one the submarine sneaked through, and beefed up the security of all other entrances to the harbor. The last place I wanted to stop at was the Italian Chapel, a little church built by the Italian POWs while working on the Barriers as a place of worship.

Blockships sunk into entrances of Scapa Flow

With that, the cabbie drove me back to Kirkwall where I quickly retreated to my hostel, cleaned up from the day, planned my timetable for the next day, and went to bed. I know this was a lot to do in one day, but like I said before, Orkney is a fascinating place with so much varied history, it's hard not to detail all I learned and my thoughts and experiences! Hopefully you made it to the end here, and you'll be rewarded with some nice photos below :)

Up to Orkney

Travel Date: 02 June 2012

This past weekend was extra long for everyone in the UK as there was a Bank Holiday on Monday and then everyone pretty much got Tuesday off to celebrate Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee. Rather than trying to mix in with the crowds of millions in London, I decided to head the other way - North - to the Orkney Islands, an archipelago right off Scotland's northern-most coast. I figured that with extra time, I should go somewhere special that required a wee bit more time to get to, right? It did take a while to get there, in fact.

I could have taken the train or flown, both of which would have been quicker than taking a coach, but the coach was the cheapest option (thank you, MegaBus!). I left on a sunny Saturday morning, riding three and a half hours to get to Inverness, where I was to switch coaches and get on the John O'Groats Express from Inverness to Kirkwall, the capital of the Orkney Islands. The John O'Groats Express was a great option to take: for £52, I was able to get a return ticket that included a coach from Inverness to John O'Groats, a passenger ferry from John O'Groats to Burwick on the island of South Ronaldsay, and another coach from Burwick to Kirkwall...and then all the way back to Inverness. Not a bad deal at all!

So while I was waiting in Inverness for my coach to John O'Groats, I decided to explore a bit since I didn't have the time to do that last month when my friends and I came up for the Brew at the Bog music festival outside of Inverness. It's a quaint little town, but with honestly not a whole lot to do from what I could tell. It was sunny and I walked through the old part of town to the banks of the River Ness where you can take in scenic vantages of the town including a few churches and the little Inverness Castle.

I walked up to the castle to get an idea of the view from up there. The castle is not the original 12th century castle built by Scottish King David I, who founded the Royal Burgh of Inverness after finally winning out against the Mormaer King MacBeth. The castle was fortified and used throughout the clan wars until Prince Charles Edward Stewart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) blew it up during the Jacobite Rebellion. The current structure was built in 1834 as a courthouse and town hall.

After walking around the castle, I went across the street to the free Inverness Museum and Art Gallery which provided me a total history of Scotland from it's orogenic and glaciated geologic background, the northern migration of humans following the retreating ice margin and the Neolithic Era, the development of the Picts, the exploration by the Romans, conquer by the Vikings, then by the Celts, and throw in some Norman conquest, the uniting of Scotland and England after the death of Mary, Queen of Scots, and a little bit of Jacobite Rebellions, the industrial revolution, and voila, you have Scotland. It was truly a great museum, well-organized, with interactive displays where you can listen to phrases spoken in Scottish Gallic (which was fun to play with because there were two young boys who were playing a game, but repeated everything the display said out loud, laughing as they did so). There were also some of the original Pictish carvings of wolves, sea monsters, and other designs.

Time was running short, so I picked up some snacks in the local Poundland and caught my coach up to John O'Groats (JOG). JOG bills itself as the first and the last as it is the farthest north you can get on mainland Scotland, situated right on the coast of the Pentland Firth, one of the most dangerous water-crossings in Scotland due to very fast flowing tidal currents swirling and eddying around and between the numerous islands in the Firth. It took about three hours to get to JOG, passing through very small towns surrounded by cattle and sheep pastures. We didn't have to wait long for the ferry to arrive, but it gave me some time to take in my first glimpses of the cliff-lined Orkney Islands. Soon, I was, myself, on the ferry crossing the dangerous waterway - which, you could really see the water churning, eddying, and flowing over rocky reefs below the water surface as the tides came in and out! The weather was great, the crossing was smooth, and I was really impressed by the captain's knowledge of the waters, taking into account the strong outgoing tides, which we had to sail into and let carry us along to the ferry docks on South Ronaldsay. But we were there, on the islands, loading up into the coach that would take us across a few farm-covered islands to the capital city, Kirkwall.

I was tired, and hungry, and it was nearly 8:30pm and I had the feeling that if I didn't get any food soon, I would miss my opportunities as all the shops in Scotland, especially Orkney, close at 5 and pubs stop serving food at 9. So I checked into my hostel, the Kirkwall Peedie Hostel - a fantastically cozy place with extremely accommodating owners (and at £15/night, you can't go wrong). Julia gave me some pointers on where to get food and then where to find live music in town. I put my things in my room and was off. But not quickly enough. I got to Helgi's, Julia's suggested pub for food but they didn't have any room, so I wandered around the corner to a wee fish and chips shop, run by an old Orcadian couple who were very friendly and got me some hot food just before they closed up shop. I took it back to my hostel where I ate it and planned my weekend. Finally, before going to bed, I decided to walk around Kirkwall a bit and find some live music. I was told to check out Reel, a coffee shop that turns into a pub/live music venue on certain nights of the week. Sure enough, right next to St. Magnus' Cathedral, I heard the sounds of fiddles, a piano, an accordion, singing, and guitars coming out of Reel. It was packed, but I bought some local Orkney Brewery brews, found a place to stand, and enjoyed the local jam session for a few hours.

Exhausted, I headed back to the Peedie Hostel, got ready for bed, and crashed as soon as my head hit my pillow.

Up to Orkney, a set on Flickr.