Orkney Islands – further travels with Lolly Girl.

Orkney Islands – further travels with Lolly Girl.

Skara Brae, a stone built Neolithic village on the Orkney Mainland, had been on my must see list for nearly 20 years.

I first became aware of Skara Brae when I viewed Simon Schama’s “A History of Britain” in the early 1990’s. Part of the village had been unearthed in 1850 when a storm battered Orkney, causing the sand which had covered the village to be stripped.

Lolly girl was up for a trip, and was happy to increase her knowledge of Neolithic civilisation, and as it turned out we learnt a lot more about the Vikings as well.

Flying in to Kirkwell, the main town on the Mainland we could see the causeways built between the Main Island, Burray and South Ronaldsy Islands – white ribbons threading across the blue sea. Approaching Kirkwall the patchwork of fields and rolling hills provided a taste of the beauty of the Orkney Islands.

Locating our apartment in Finstown, 6 miles northwest of Kirkwell, was a challenge. We were looking out for “a narrow driveway on our right, white house on one side and grey house on the other, and if you get to the cemetery, you have gone too far”. We got to the cemetery. To describe the narrow alleyway between the two houses as a driveway was a leap of faith.

The apartment had a changing view across the Bay of Firth, depending on the weather. On calm sunny days, the bay was like a mirror reflecting the buildings and trees. Other days, it was moody grey and rough with whitecaps whipping across the surface.

The drive from Finstown to Skara Brae required great self discipline. There seemed to be something that must be explored around every corner.

Skara Brae was inhabited between around 3100BC and 2500BC.

There are nine surviving Neolithic houses, which were connected and consisted of one room. They still contain stone dressers and box-beds. These beds would possibly have been lined with fur, straw or maybe dried seaweed. One of the houses, house eight, is different to the others. It does not contain beds or dressers, and is not connected to other structures. Schaama suggested it may have been the equivalent of the local pub. This suggestion was met with scorn by a scholar friend, and refusal to watch any more of the Schaama series, on the basis he was trivialising history. I tended to the view that he was making it accessible and interesting to an audience other than scholars.

Archaeologists are unsure of the use to which this structure was put, but there is a view that it may have been a workshop. There is also speculation that it may have been a later addition.

There was a great deal more than Skara Brae to explore. The Orkney Islands have been inhabited for about 8,500 years, originally by Mesolithic and Neolithic tribes, then Picts. They were annexed by Norway in the early 8th and 9th centuries, and settled by the Vikings. The Orkneys became part of Scotland, when James III of Scotland received them from Christian I, King of Denmark, Norway and Sweden in lieu of a dowry.

Skara Brae was probably part of a group of Neolithic Monuments in the area. The Stones of Stenness and the Ring of Brodgar, both ceremonial stone circles are within a few miles of Skara Brae and the Stones of Stenness can be seen from the chambered Cairn at Maeshowe. There are numerous standing stones between the sites, which suggest some kind of ceremonial walkway.

Standing stones can be found in numerous parts of the world. Gma and Lolly girl track them down with the tenacity of hounds on the scent (of standing stones). There is a lot of debate about their purpose. A place of rituals and other ceremonies is a prevalent theory. Another theory is that they could have been astronomical sites. I visited an ancient stelae field of carved standing stones in Tiya, Ethiopia. Those stones appear to be grave markers.

We were accompanied on our visit to the Stones of Stenness by a group of fat woolly sheep, one of whom used a stone as a back scratcher. There are only four stones still standing, on a flat grassy site overlooking the Loch of Stenness. The site dates from around 3100BC, and is one of the earliest stone circles in Britain.

The Ring of Brogdar is a candidate for the theory that stone circles were used as astronomical observatories. Another theory suggests that due to its size, it was built to accommodate a larger number of people than Stenness. The theories are almost as fascinating as the stones themselves.

Lolly Girl is a keen birdwatcher. While Gma is content to photograph the birds, Lolly Girl is more interested in identifying them. The Orkney Islands are an ornithologists heaven. There are hides around, which anyone can use. There is generally a list of birds recently spotted, and one we entered had numerous bird books. Although the puffins proved to be elusive when we visited the Brough of Birsay, we did see some Auks

One evening in Kirkwall, the peace was shattered by the most ear shattering din. A dilapidated old truck came careering down the street, carrying a very strange assortment of people on the tray, including a man wearing few clothes, tied up and with a gooey looking black paste on his face and body and feathers everywhere. Other people had feathers in their hair, or very weird wigs on their head. There was much shouting, screaming, jumping up and down, beating of drums, and whistle blowing. Several people were banging the side of the truck with sticks. Wine was involved – lots of it, generally drunk from the bottle.

The truck did several circuits of the town. I was expecting the police to arrive, to at least restrain people from jumping on and off the truck.

We later discovered this was a “Wedding Blackening”, and is a tradition. Hence the police don’t view it as a breach of the peace, and let them be. The man stripped, tied up and covered in black goo (treacle, flour and feathers) is the groom to be. He is then paraded about on the back of a truck, and can end up in the sea.

We had seen strange sign in the public toilets earlier in the day, saying no to lasses clarted in molasses. After witnessing the wedding blackening, we realised the sign was forbidding people from cleaning up in the public toilets after a blackening.

There are several sites of interest in Kirkwall. St Magnus Cathedral was founded in 1137 by the Viking Earl Rognvald, in honour of his Uncle, St Magnus who was martyred in the Orkneys. The stained glass windows are beautiful, and when the sun shines through them, they cast an intricate mosaic like pattern on the wall. The window’s are relatively new, having been installed between 1913 and 1930.

St Magnus Cathedral

I loved the numerous gravestones on the walls, a number featuring skulls and crossbones. The medieval collection of stones with the symbols of death – bones and coffins are among the best I have seen.

The gravestone of a merchant in Kirkwall, who died in 1673 was possibly my favourite. The detail below shows death dancing and piercing an urn with a dart. A cherub is blowing into a long trumpet.

Gravestone of Patrick Prince

In contrast to medieval stones was a modern painting commemorating the 900th anniversary of the Martyrdom of St Magnus by Norwegian artist Hakon Gullvag. I enjoyed this painting so much, it inspired me to search out more of his art. I loved his Biblical Cycle, particularly the Tower of Babel and Noahs Ark.

Martyrdom of St Magnus

A little fortification was required before exploring the Bishop’s Palace and the Earl’s Palace. Lolly Girl is partial to a drop of fine whisky, and was keen to visit the Highland Park Whisky distillery. Gma wanted to compare a local gin to her current favourites. Highland Park was full of tourists, so Lolly Girl made do with a miniature bottle of 20 year whisky to take home. The gin distillery did not have any gin to taste. Neither did they have any small bottles. Fortification by way of a less than sublime coffee didn’t quite put us in a nice floaty place.

I prefer my Palaces to be in ruins. The Bishop’s Palace and the Earl’s Palace were entirely to my taste. The Bishop’s Palace is a medieval 12th Century palace, originally built for the first Bishop, William the Old. In the early 1600’s the Bishop’s Palace was incorporated into a Renaissance Palace – the Earl’s Palace. The buildings are no longer co-joined.

A lot of cruise ships spend a day at Kirkwell or Stromness. We chose a non cruise ship day to visit Stromness. Wise choice. We almost had the place to ourselves. Even so, driving through the village was a challenge. The streets are mainly only wide enough for one car, but are not one way. We had to back up to wider spots several times to allow another car through.

It was a grey damp day, but the boats and their reflections in the still harbour were far from grey.

Stromness, around the harbour, is very quaint and picturesque. After wandering around the narrow little streets, devoid of people we had a splendid lobster lunch at a pub on the waterfront. Seafood is exceptionally good in this part of the world.

Lolly Girl decided to compile an album of images of ruined cottages. There was no shortage of subjects, and she built up a most impressive collection. I tended to favour ruined palaces. The site of the Earl’s Palace at the Brough of Birsay contained excellent ruins. The Palace was built between 1569 and 1579 and was the residence of Robert Stewart, 1st Earl of Orkney, a half brother of Mary Queen of Scots. Robert was apparently a harsh earl, with royal pretensions who oppressed the people of Orkney. His son Patrick Stewart, the 2nd Earl of Orkney was apparently even less likeable than Robert.

Above – Earl’s Palace, Birsay.

We had been very keen to visit Maeshowe, a neolithic chambered cairn which had been built some 5000 years ago. The Cairn looks like a mound in the field until the entrance comes into view.

The low entrance passage is aligned with the setting of the midwinter sun, which allows light to illuminate the interior. Entering the tomb from the entry passage we emerged into the large central chamber. There were too many people in the group for us to really get a feel for the site, but the structure was most impressive.

Vikings broke into the Cairn through the roof in the mid 1100’s. They left graffiti, carved in runes. It was impossible for most people see this graffiti while the guide explained it. A quick single file view later was less than satisfactory.

The Tomb of the Eagles is on South Ronaldsay, and is another example of a stone age chambered cairn. The long entrance tunnel had to be negotiated by lying flat on what appeared to be a large skateboard, and pulling yourself along by a rope on the ceiling. A panic attack would have overwhelmed me if I tried to enter the cairn. Lolly Girl decided she would have a go. She lasted for all of 20 seconds.

Entry to the Tomb of Eagles – note skate board to the right of the entrance.

The walk to the site more than made up for our cowardice. The sheer cliffs dropping to the sea below were inhabited by dozens of seabirds nesting. Wildflowers carpeted some areas, and all had identification tags. Coming across a field of pink, or white, or purple was a vision splendid.

We stopped off at a most extraordinary Chapel on Lamb Holm on our way back from South Ronaldsay. The Italian Chapel was constructed by Italian Prisoners of War during the Second World War. The Italian POWs had been sent to Lamb Holm to construct the causeways to protect the British fleet in the Skapa Flow. The Chapel was created with two nissen huts. Italians with the requisite skills created the interior. It was a most moving experience to stand in this Chapel, seeing that even the chaos of war, such beauty was created from very little.

We decided to spend a day visiting two more Viking sites. The archaeological remains of Earl’s Bu and Church at Ophir consist of the foundations of a large drinking hall, a romanesque round church and the remains of a horizontal water mill. The Orkneyinga Saga, which is the story of the Earls of Orkney, refers to a feast given by Earl Paul in Ophir – and describes a large drinking hall and a magnificent church. The Orkneyinga Saga Centre is situated alongside this site. A video, and paintings around the walls tell the story of the Norse Earls of Orkney. As there is so little left on the site, it was useful to visit this centre to gain a better understanding of what we were seeing.

The Brough of Birsay is an island, connected to the Orkney Mainland by a causeway. Access is limited to a couple of hours either side of low tide. The Picts were there before the Vikings, but there is little visible of the Picts settlement -600 -700AD.

The Norse settled on the Brough of Birsay during the ninth century AD. The archaeological site quite clearly identifies a church, with a rectangular nave, chancel and apse. The remains of long houses are also visible.

The art and craft scene in the Orkney Islands is very vibrant, innovative and creative. From exquisite, interesting jewellery, yarn crafts to art print and photography, and much more, there is so much to view.

Hoxta Tapestry Gallery at St Margaret’s Hope, South Ronaldsay was my favourite. A local Orkney artist, Leila Thomson creates unique large woven tapestries. Her work “is inspired by the rhythm of life and landscape of Orkney”. (https://hoxtatapestrygallery.co.uk) As well as tapestries, art prints are created. Printed images are photographic taken from the original art work and are hand signed.

I could have acquired numerous art prints. I finally chose “Ribbon of Life”. The tapestry itself is huge, and apparently hangs at the top of a stairway in a stately home. My art print brings the Orkneys into my less than stately home, and is much loved and commented on.

Lolly girl and I barely touched the surface of the Orkney Islands. We are planning another trip to explore other islands, and to learn more of the history of the Orkneys. We shall go in Puffin season.

Travels with Lolly Girl.

Travels with Lolly Girl.

New Zealand, Istanbul, Oslo, England, Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Australia

 

Lolly girl and gma go back a long way. Further than I care to think about. From child brides in a small parochial country at the end of the earth, to mature travellers. Having dispensed with the child grooms, and seen our children grow up and move on, we had no ties. The world was our oyster.

Lake Taupo, Mt Tongariro and Mt Ruapehi

Gma dispensed with the husband, and escaped the small parochial country fairly early in the piece. Lolly girl still lives in the small parochial country, but that country has matured, and is currently a far kinder place than the place to which gma escaped.

Lolly girl and I are not alike, but the differences make for a harmonious relationship. I am a relaxed traveller. Lolly girl, on the other hand, is a very anxious traveller. Her anxieties have occasionally saved us from disaster when my relaxed mode of operation would have had us stranded.

On a recent visit to Oslo, my city mapper took us to a wharf from which we were to depart on a trip around the fjords. Gma is happily sitting in the sun, relaxed and not bothering about the fact that there was no boat in sight, and no people. Lolly girl, getting anxious about no boat and no people indicates that she is going to “make enquiries”. Gma rolls her eyes, and continues to lounge in the sun. Turns out that we are on the wrong wharf, and only just had time to get to the correct wharf, where a queue of thousands were waiting for the boat. Last on, meant worst seats.

Early on we had travelled together to London, and around places nearby. Lolly girl was born in a south coast seaside town in Sussex, and had migrated with her family to the parochial country at the end of the world as a child. She was moderately comfortable travelling in the country of her birth, where the language was similar to that of the parochial country. She was less comfortable with the journey.

On one occasion the landing at Heathrow was aborted and our plane roared up into the fog covering London – an obstacle on the runway we were told. As we circled past Windsor Castle for the third time, Lolly Girl was extremely anxious. “What if we run out of fuel”. We won’t, we will go elsewhere to land”. “Nooo, we can’t X is waiting at Heathrow to meet us.”

Lolly Girl’s biggest challenge was joining Gma in Istanbul. Gma had been travelling in Eastern Turkey, and was returning to the antipodes from Istanbul. Lolly Girl was in London, and had to travel on her own, and get herself from the airport to the hotel in Istanbul. Neither Lolly Girl or Gma could believe it when she booked on line, and actually hit the “buy” button on the airline site.

There followed a few weeks of “oh my god, what have I done” from Lolly Girl, which ramped up when demonstrations began in Taksim Square. Our hotel was in Sultanahmet on Kennedy Cardesi, just down the hill from the Blue Mosque. Geographically we were a reasonable distance from Taksim Square, so after consulting the map, Lolly Girl relaxed – kind of.

Lolly Girl emerged, triumphant from the taxi at the hotel in Istanbul, ready to explore. She took everything in her stride. The incredible beauty of the mosques overcame any residual anxiety Lolly Girl had for her first encounter with Islam.

We were sitting on the terrace of our hotel, overlooking the Sea of Marmara one evening, when the relaxed mode moved abruptly to not relaxed. Plumes of smoke could be seen from Taksim Square, and what appeared to be a naval boat came chugging into view.

A glass of wine restored equilubrium, even though the smoke from Taksim Square was still billowing. The boat had disappeared from view.

After an epic fail of our GPS in Scotland – which instead of taking us north toward Ballater, took us up a road which became narrower and narrower and then turned into a track, ending at the grand gates of a mansion beyond, Lolly Girl decided we needed paper maps as a back up. Gma does further eye rolls, but Lolly girl was not daunted.

As it happened, it was as well that Lolly Girl had paper maps when we got to Ireland. The GPS was unable to cope with numerous places, and on several occasions took us up a roads which led nowhere near our destination. It was beyond the ability of the GPS to take us to a village in Kilkenny, where a part of my family had originated. Actually, it was also beyond the ability of Lolly Girl and her paper maps to get us there. We retired, hurt, to a pub for lunch. Lolly girl accosted a staff member for directions, and we finally made it to Galmoy.

Gma considers it a huge fail if directions have to be sought, and refuses to ever ask for assistance. It is very fortuitous for our travels that Lolly Girl is happy to ask for directions. If she wasn’t, we would be driving around in ever diminishing circles forever, never getting to our destination.

The distrust of the GPS can have some issues. On a trip to the Lake District, the GPS was working well. Lolly Girl nevertheless had the paper maps to hand. Approaching huge roundabouts, just as the GPS lady started instructing which exit to take, Lolly Girl would instruct me which exit she thought we should take, drowning out the GPS lady, and occasionally had the GPS lady hysterically yelling at us take a U turn. Finally we had to decide which of the GPS or Lolly Girl was excess to requirements.

Gma generally drives. One year Lolly Girl borrowed a car in London, which she had to drive. The car was a Porsche Boxter S.

Lolly Girl was anxious about the drive out of London, and most anxious about driving a Porsche. Our first journey was to York. We did all right under the circumstances. Going through a red light on a roundabout 5 minutes from home set the pace.

Driving up the M1 was memorable. Here we were in the Porsche crawling in the far left lane, with every other vehicle overtaking us, including big trucks and buses, the latter towering over us like a huge block of flats on wheels. Our windows seemed to be level with the top of their tyres.

We then journeyed south to visit the seaside town which Lolly Girl had come from, in Sussex. Lolly Girl was far more relaxed – the A roads suited her better than the M1. It had been snowing heavily, but the roads were cleared. Lolly Girl’s friends were not relaxed about a Porsche being parked in the street, so their car was unceremoniously moved onto the street to allow the Porsche to be locked into the garage.

It was rather fun emerging from the Porsche at country petrol stations. We whooshed into the forecourt – the young male attendants came rushing out. The looks on their faces when Lolly Girl and Gma unfolded themselves out of the car was priceless.

Gma is generally the travel agent and tour group leader. A more agreeable travelling companion than Lolly Girl would be hard to find. No matter how hideous the accommodation or travel turns out, she does not complain. Gma had booked a serviced apartment in Reykjavic. It looked very pleasant on its website, and was very close to everything. Emerging from the airport bus, Gma was quite suprised at the direction the city tripper was taking us. It certainly wasn’t the direction Gma thought it would be.

It turned out that the serviced apartment owners had several buildings, and put us in a different building than Gma had booked. The apartment was a hovel, for which we had paid non hovel prices. Lolly Girl was extremely kind about the hovel, and its smell, although she did produce a bottle of french perfume which was liberally sprayed around the hovel.

The act of travelling makes Lolly Girl anxious. We were catching a train from Copenhagen to Oslo, with a change at Gothenburg. On reaching the Copenhagen railway station, Lolly Girl zips off to ascertain which platform we were departing from. “Its not on the list of departures.” We were early, so sat down to wait, with Lolly Girl darting off to check departures. Anxiety sets in when trains later than ours are on the board.

Gma goes off to check the departures board, found the train and platform. Seems Lolly Girl was looking at the arrivals screen. When we arrived in Gothenburg, our train for Oslo was there, but locked. We did have about 45 minutes, but because it was not possible to reserve seats, people started standing in front of locked doors to make sure they got their seat of choice, and somewhere to stow their bags. Gma was consuming coffee and not inclined to move from her sunny spot to stand in a wind tunnel for 20 minutes. Lolly Girl put up with Gma’s indolence for fully 5 minutes, then moved off to stand behind the first person in the line at the locked door of choice.

Gma idly wondered if Lolly Girl had any idea of the scrum which eventuates when the doors open, and thought about warning her that coming in from the side was more effective if you were not the first person in the queue, and that using your suitcase as a weapon was required.

The doors open. Gma loses sight of Lolly Girl as the crowd surges forward, the side flanks moving in with precision. By the time Gma gets on the train, Lolly Girl has secured the 2 best seats in the carriage, and has obtained spots for the bags. Gma is duly grateful, and graciously declines the offer to sit at the window. Lolly girl is quite shaken by the experience of kill or be killed, although she most admirably was not killed, and reigned triumphant.

Some of Gmas happiest travel experiences have been with Lolly Girl. Getting drunk and disorderly with Lolly Girl around the world for the rest of Gma’s travelling life would be a joy.