Kirkwall to Kirkwall (Orkney) attempt 2

Nice and snug now in the lounge area - can't believe how busy the campsite is here - since yesterday (Saturday, 1st May) the number of tourists we have come across has suddenly gone from virtually zero to lots.

After exploring Kirkwall on Thursday we had an enjoyable evening lounging on the comfy settees watching a romcom, in the warmth. Heard the bells of the church chiming at 1 minute past 8 for 4 minutes - is the curfew bell - which comes from the French to 'look after your fire' for the night - i.e. dampen it down and make it safe overnight. It is with time that the word curfew has changed to become associated with safety. We also learnt where the expression 'stinking rich' came from - if you were rich you could be buried in the church itself -it was thought that if buried here you were 'nearer to God'. The only fault though was that the bodies would smell as they decomposed....

Set off on Friday, cycling SW along the northern edge of Scapa Flow - very overcastand dry - but a very strong SW wind - so we had a very tough 10 mile hilly ride to Houton, where we were glad they had a very warm waiting room for our 45 minute wait till the next ferry to take us over the water to the mountainous island of Hoy. This is a vehicle ferry - there is also a ferry at the other end of the island that is just a passenger and cycle ferry, which we would catch to get off the island. Many of the locals were returning on this ferry to the island with lots of heavy bags with the weekly shopping within them, as there is no proper shop on the island. Were very glad to sit in the windowless lounge, out of the wind - a soulless place though - watched the local doctor get out his butties for his lunch and unwrap his BMJ from its plastic wrapper - then felt very sorry for him when he got knobbled by a patient who had spotted him coming down the stairs into the lounge while sitting in his car on the deck with his wife. If that wasn't bad enough, just as it looked as though he might get back to his lunch and reading the wife came down and kept up a long mainly one sided conversation with him. The Doctor got off at the small island of Flotta, which the ferry visited on its way to Hoy - an oil island and not much else happens there.

Arrived at a dismal looking ad cold pier at Lyness, hard to believe it was a very important place in both the first and second world wars - as Scapa Flow is where the Royal Navy concentrated all its ships when not in use, and with Lyness being where all the ships were refueled, and where the largest cinema in Europe was/is to be found. The pump house and one of the huge oil tanks and various of .the surrounding buildings have been used to create a museum about Scapa Flow and Lyness during the war, which was fascinating. Would have loved to have spent longer there but time was pressing on and we still had a tough cycle ride to undertake. A photo of HMS Lion was of interest (Grandad Jervis was on this ship in WW1).

Virtually no one else there at the museum, am sure there must be lots of days when no one visits them at all. Hope we get back to see it in more depth sometime in the future. Was raining when we left, and very cold (for a change!!). At least we were now cycling in a NW direction so avoided the worst of the horror of a head wind - but some impressive hills to cycle up and down - very bleak and barren, and somehow very Scottish. It was very wet indeed and miserable, as you can imagine Roger was not a happy chappy..... Visited the 'loneliest grave' of Betty somebody - can't remember her surname at the moment - what a bleak place - she came from the island and fell in love with a sailor, his ship left and Betty discovered she was pregnant, tried to drown herself but was rescued, so then hung herself. Because of this she couldn't be buried in consecrated ground and for some reason they chose this got forsaken spot up on the top of the peat hills.

After 10 miles or so of hard work peddling the heavy bikes up and down hills we turned off left down a valley between two very dark and intimidating mountains, taking us from the waters of Scapa Flow to the other side of island at Rackwick - a very isolated spot, used to be a small thriving community with its own school, a fishing village. No church there though - they had to walk 5 miles each way to church, carrying their dead if needs be as well.

Overtook a lone walker with a large rucksack just before we arrived at the old school house which is now a small hostel. Soaking wet and cold, we were dismayed to find no one at the hostel and the door locked. Opposite was a small bungalow and Roger spotted a lady to ask who gave us the phone number of the warden - based 5 mies away. Were just digging the phone out of my rucksack, and discovering that it was sat in a large puddle of rainwater that had collected in it (had used waterproof kyaking liners in our bike panniers, but not the rucksack ...) when the walker we had passed appeared- with the key - he had collected it from the warden who had met him as he came across on the passenger/cyclists ferry and then walked the 5 miles to the hostel. He looked as wet as we felt, and he disappeared into one of the two bedrooms and was not seen again - didn't have a drink or make a meal - we knocked on the door and offered him some food when we cooked but he didn't want anything. Apart from finding out his name was Chris (because I introduced ourselves to him and asked him his name) that was about it - quite disconcerting. The dorms were very tiny - 2 lots of bunks squashed in, we didn't see the one Chris was in bit presume it was very similar. A small kitchen, a small general room with a table and some plastic type chairs and a bathroom - so very cosy if it had the full complement of 8 people there - but at £10.50 per night per person, good value and in an incredible spot, a 45 minute walk from the Old Man of Hoy and overlooking a picturesque bay and small sandy beach. It was such a relief to get out of the wind, rain and cod.

Tried to ring the warden to book in but my phone had given up the ghost after it's enforced rainwater bath,and even though a phone box outside we couldn't get it to work. So left a note and our money in the suggestion box for the Warden.

Up and out the next morning without seeing or hearing anything from Chris - packed up all the cycle bags and put them in the small outhouse with our bikes, then walked up to the Old Man of Hoy. The weather was not bad, but still very windy and cold with occasional warm spells when the sun came out from behind the many clouds. The Old Man is very impressive, a sea stack 150 metres high. Despite only being 1st May, and 10 o'clock in the morning we were amazed to see two climbers 1/4 of the way up the stack. The second climber was slower than the first and having a bit of a struggle while we watched - a huge chunk of stone fell off as we watched. We couldn't work out how you got down the cliff we were stood on so as to get to the base of the seastack to start the climb. Fascinating to watch the seabirds hovering on the very changeable and gusting wind currents near the cliffs where they nested -they are real performers, it's as though they are putting a show on for you. Just as we were about to turn back a girl appeared - turns out she was with the two lads climbing - the second guy was her (?) husband and it was a 40th birthday present to be climbing the Old Man. Didn't really understand this till we met them later on the ferry and it turns out the first guy was a professional guide from the western side of Scotland who they had paid to lead the birthday boy up the stack. Not heard of this sort of guiding before - sound a very sensible way of going about something you are not very sure about. Roger most definitely said it wouldn't be a good idea for his 60th birthday!!! - he knows the way my mind works...

Weren't sure about the passenger and cycle ferry time over from Hoy to Stromness back on the mainland, so walked back for our bikes and cycled back down the valley to the Scapa Flow side, stopping off to walk up to the Dwarfie Stane, across a duckboard walkway - a ginormous stone slab has been hollowed out as a burial chamber, 3000 years BC. Impressive when you consider how little in the way of tools they would have had.

By the time we got to the small ferry waiting room (no one around) - and discovered that as it was Saturday there wasn't a ferry until 6.30pm - we had over 4 hours to wait - the weather had gone much colder and a strong wind was making it very unpleasant to hang around outside doing nothing -so set up camp in the freezing cold, but windless waiting room. Boiled the kettle for brews - and also made myself up a hot water bottle!!! Just as the ferry was due a taxi drew up and out stepped the climbers from the Old Man.

We must have looked rough, because for the first time ever we were asked if we were oap's by the ferryman when he came to sell us our tickets. Don't know if this is better or worse than when I was once asked if I was a lad or a lassie by a very old codger on a farm up in the depths of the Yorkshire hills when I worked at Easingwold. Mind you, as Roger reminds me, he is only 3 years off being an oap.

The wind had dropped by the time we arrived at Stromness, decided we would camp at the campsite - we had passed it on the ferry - in a very exposed spot but should be OK as weather (wind!!!) not too bad. A fish and ship trailer just there as we got off the ferry so had these for our tea, then cycled to the campsite. lovely spot but not my favouritest of places - a bit officious somehow and not s friendly as we have come to expect. A cold night again, but not too bad - tights on, two jumpers,hat and hot water bottle, along with a silk inner, a furry liner, and a sleeping bag each.

Lovely days cycle today - back to Kirkwall via a couple of standing stone circles. The sun came out a couple of times and teased us with the warmth of its rays!!! Arrived back in Kirkwall in time to go shopping at Tescos once again (Sunday afternoon) and decided as weather not bad to camp at the campsite we were trying to find when we arrived here last Wednesday evening.

Time to cook tea now. We're aiming to cycle down to the south of the island and catch the ferry over to John O'Groats on the Scottish mainland, and camp there tomorrow night. The serious cycling starts then - as now becomes an a to b to c route, rather than an a to b to a route...