Tuesday, 4 May 2010
Kirkwall (Orkney) to John O'Groats to Thurso
Another cold night in the tent at Kirkwall, awoke to drizzle and a cold wind yet again. A long hill to cycle up out of Kirkwall - rewarded by a great downhill bit after this - I reached 34.9 mph according to the bike trip - the fastest yet. Was straight into very cold and stinging rain. Still wearing my full winter gloves - not had cold hands with them as yet, even when sodden from the rain - which is quite amazing as my hands get cold very quickly. I have learnt that where ever I am going I always pack my hat and gloves with me (I have gloves of verying thickness) - they have served me well on every trip I have ever made at some point.
Despite the rain and wind and cold, I really enjoyed the cycle ride south - helped by the rain dissappearing after lunch. We were cycling down the right hand side of Scapa Flow - I'd never heard of Churchill's Barriers - four stone and concrete barrier dams that were built during the second world war to form a defence against German U boats sneaking into Scapa Flow through narrow channels between the islands that make up this southern leg of the Orkneys. This only happened though after the Royal Oak was got by a U boat very early on in the war. They managed to sneak past ships that had been purposely scuttled there to prevent such a thing - the U boat commander had 'local knowledge' as he was a fisherman and had been there prior to the war. The barriers had been talked about before this but because they would take so long to build, and because everyone thought the war 'would be over by Christmas' the plans were shelved. Once resurrected though things moved fast - and the planning and design stage happened in record time - but the conditions for the construction workers that were taken on from all over the country were felt to be so bad that over half of them left within 2 weeks of arriving - only no doubt to be conscripted into the war and endure far worse conditions soom after... Because the sort of men they required to build the dams were also the men that were required for the war itself, they ran into difficulties in getting the work to progress. After the battles in the desert - many Italians were taken as POW's from Torbruk and brought up to the Orkneys to work on the project. The Geneva Convention meant that POWs couldn't be forced to work on projects that were of benefit to the war effort - but after what must have been skillfull negotiations on both sides the POWs were persuaded that as roads would be put on top of the barriers, which would link all the islands together and were therefore doing something that would help the islanders, then they would undertake the work - and in return get better living quarters and out of work activities to do. The barriers were built of stone filled gabions dropped in 2 lines across the gaps, and infilled with large rocks, then cast concrete blocks with hooks in them for lifting with a crane were then dumped on the dam that had been formed. 3/4 of a million tons of rock and a milion tons of concrete were used. The road bit wasn't as im[portant so was the last bit to be done - finally being opened 4 days after VE day.
The POW camp of the Italians was missing a chapel - so two nisson huts were joined together and the Italians creatwed a magnificant church from these and concrete, and paint. One of the POWs was an artist and had a postcard of the Virgin and Child given to him by his mopther that he'd carried in his pocket all through the war - so he used this then to paint a copy of the picture over the alter. Much of the insode of the church appears to be brickwork - but when you actually touch it, it's just painted on. Nothing else of the POW camp remains, just the church and the barriers and the odd bit of old scuttled wreck.
By the time we reached the very small ferry pier at the extreme south of the Orkneys it was about 4 oclock - no one else there - just an empty waiting room / portacabin. The ferry wasn't due till 7pm (only started running on Saturday, 1st May - today was bank holiday Monday, the 3rd May - explains probably why we've seen so many tourists (relatively speaking). So another 3 hour wait, so out came the kettle for a cuppa - not so cold that I needed a 'hottie' this time though. Could see John O'Groats, 6 and a half miles away south across the notorious Pentland Firth stretch of water. There is a rip tide' that races down here - 12 hours in one direction, and then another 12 hours in the opposite one. Notoriously dangerous water.
7 pm saw the small ferry boat arrive - felt bad when only Roger and me, plus a local who arrived out of thin air appeared to betting onto the ferry - had to take all the bags off the bike and lash the bikes on the back deck. But just as I remembered that a bus ran from Kirkwall to the ferry - it suddenly appeared and about 30 day trippers trouped onto the ferry, all on their way back to the mainland. The weather was cold but fantastic now - clear and fantastic views over the water, and amazingly smooth crossing, given the reputation that this is a very rough ride. The safety announcements gave relatively detailed info about what to do if something happened and I've never been told before that if needbe take a life jacket and get in the water and hang onto a rope!! Also never seen quite so many lifejackets ready at hand in nettings along both sides of the seating area - or the large plastic bag lined bins at the end of each row of seats like giant sick buckets!!!
We were dumped off the ferry as super fast speed - diffixcult with bikes that had to be carried up steep narrow steps and all the panniers - nearly left two behind - pnly realised as we counted all the baggage - had to be passed over to us as the boat was pullinmg away form the pier. Not sure what all the fuss was about and speed etc as all they did was some pretty impressive manouvering to get the ferry through the narrow entrance into the very small harbour at John O'Groats - very nifty bit of work.
As it was now well past 8 oclock, the photographer that stakes a claim to the famous photo opportunity at John O'Groats wasn't there to extract any money from us so we took the obligatory photo - but minus the usual signpost sign that he very carefully takes away at the end of each day. Two lycra clad blokes and a suffering wife were also taking a photo - 'Which way are you going?' and 'How long did it take you?' was all they wanted to ask - and not really listen to you reply. They were End to Enders, and their homemade flag was for 'blood bikes'. The campsite was very close by - somehow it epitamised a typical British campsite - even down to the bleakmess of the weather - the wind was getting back up now, and was very exposed to the sea. Chose our spot behind a camper van to try and give us some protection should the wind really get up later, and our tent is OK as long as it is pitched into the wind - otherwise very vulnerable to wind and rain. Next door was a large army looking tent - a gang of fellas doing a recce trip for a larger group of End to Enders in June - cycling 1200 miles, 3 were cycling the rest were there to form the SAG team - never known what SAG actually stands for - but an American term for being the support team for a group of cyclists - carrying all the gear, sorting food out, putting tents up and down etc - so emans the cyclists can move a whole lot faster than we can - loaded down with all our stuff - plus just setting up and pulling down our 'house' every day takes lots of time. The three cyclists left about 6am this morning - leaving the SAG team to sort out all their stuff etc. I heard them up and about - so turned over and snuggled down in my sleeping bag listening to the rain falling on the tent.
A very grotty days cycling today - Roger was most definitely not a happy chappy - can't say it filled me with much joy either. The wind was a strong easterly one - and guess which way we were cycling - that's right - EAST!!! The rain was a really wet persistant drizzle, and when we called in at the Castle of May (where Queen Mum used to come for her holidays - she bought the rundown castle in the 50's) - we were very out of place looking like a pair of drowned rats compared to the silver rinse brigade that were there. A lovely cafe - built by donation mainly - very nicwely done - painted in the blue that the Queen Mum liked, of sustainable wood and local building materials etc - very thick and posh looking napkins - a lovely bowl of pea and ham soup with a buttered cheese scone warmed us up nicely. The castle is only small but very interesting and the guides are a mix of locals and people who knew her when she used to go and stay there. Of interest is that virtually none of the royal family actually ever stayed there - they preferred the Royal Yacht Britannia as it was much warmer.... The Queen Mum (I'd forgotten she was 102 when she died) formed a trust for the castle about 6 years before dhe died, and wanted it to become a tourist attraction so as to bring money into the area once she had died - they had had a 'dummy run' before she died. The guides in the house were incredibly knowledgable and full of little intimate tales about the Queen Mum and the dratted snappy corgis. We looked round the walled garden but not much to see at the moment - I was amazed how trimmed back all the plants and roses were - hard to believe that they will all grow and bloom this summer and form a show garden.
Hard to get back on to the bikes and get cycling again. A long grind of a hill just before Thurso - did hope to get further today but would have meant another couple of hours minimum into the head wind and a night camping again - so opted for an early finish and a very small hostel, Sandra's Hostel - over a fish and chip shop. Really appreciated the lovely hot shower - the first shower for many a day - and warmed up reading in bed before weakening to a chip shop supper, a read of the latest election news in The Times, and onto the internet to check emails etc out. The rain stopped for a while after we got here but is back drizzling again now. O I do hope summer comes soon - would be nice to be able to cycle without the big yellow coats, two layers underneath and big winter gloves on.
Great to get the emails from you all - not sure why some of you can leave comments and others can't? What's the secret Shay?
Despite the rain and wind and cold, I really enjoyed the cycle ride south - helped by the rain dissappearing after lunch. We were cycling down the right hand side of Scapa Flow - I'd never heard of Churchill's Barriers - four stone and concrete barrier dams that were built during the second world war to form a defence against German U boats sneaking into Scapa Flow through narrow channels between the islands that make up this southern leg of the Orkneys. This only happened though after the Royal Oak was got by a U boat very early on in the war. They managed to sneak past ships that had been purposely scuttled there to prevent such a thing - the U boat commander had 'local knowledge' as he was a fisherman and had been there prior to the war. The barriers had been talked about before this but because they would take so long to build, and because everyone thought the war 'would be over by Christmas' the plans were shelved. Once resurrected though things moved fast - and the planning and design stage happened in record time - but the conditions for the construction workers that were taken on from all over the country were felt to be so bad that over half of them left within 2 weeks of arriving - only no doubt to be conscripted into the war and endure far worse conditions soom after... Because the sort of men they required to build the dams were also the men that were required for the war itself, they ran into difficulties in getting the work to progress. After the battles in the desert - many Italians were taken as POW's from Torbruk and brought up to the Orkneys to work on the project. The Geneva Convention meant that POWs couldn't be forced to work on projects that were of benefit to the war effort - but after what must have been skillfull negotiations on both sides the POWs were persuaded that as roads would be put on top of the barriers, which would link all the islands together and were therefore doing something that would help the islanders, then they would undertake the work - and in return get better living quarters and out of work activities to do. The barriers were built of stone filled gabions dropped in 2 lines across the gaps, and infilled with large rocks, then cast concrete blocks with hooks in them for lifting with a crane were then dumped on the dam that had been formed. 3/4 of a million tons of rock and a milion tons of concrete were used. The road bit wasn't as im[portant so was the last bit to be done - finally being opened 4 days after VE day.
The POW camp of the Italians was missing a chapel - so two nisson huts were joined together and the Italians creatwed a magnificant church from these and concrete, and paint. One of the POWs was an artist and had a postcard of the Virgin and Child given to him by his mopther that he'd carried in his pocket all through the war - so he used this then to paint a copy of the picture over the alter. Much of the insode of the church appears to be brickwork - but when you actually touch it, it's just painted on. Nothing else of the POW camp remains, just the church and the barriers and the odd bit of old scuttled wreck.
By the time we reached the very small ferry pier at the extreme south of the Orkneys it was about 4 oclock - no one else there - just an empty waiting room / portacabin. The ferry wasn't due till 7pm (only started running on Saturday, 1st May - today was bank holiday Monday, the 3rd May - explains probably why we've seen so many tourists (relatively speaking). So another 3 hour wait, so out came the kettle for a cuppa - not so cold that I needed a 'hottie' this time though. Could see John O'Groats, 6 and a half miles away south across the notorious Pentland Firth stretch of water. There is a rip tide' that races down here - 12 hours in one direction, and then another 12 hours in the opposite one. Notoriously dangerous water.
7 pm saw the small ferry boat arrive - felt bad when only Roger and me, plus a local who arrived out of thin air appeared to betting onto the ferry - had to take all the bags off the bike and lash the bikes on the back deck. But just as I remembered that a bus ran from Kirkwall to the ferry - it suddenly appeared and about 30 day trippers trouped onto the ferry, all on their way back to the mainland. The weather was cold but fantastic now - clear and fantastic views over the water, and amazingly smooth crossing, given the reputation that this is a very rough ride. The safety announcements gave relatively detailed info about what to do if something happened and I've never been told before that if needbe take a life jacket and get in the water and hang onto a rope!! Also never seen quite so many lifejackets ready at hand in nettings along both sides of the seating area - or the large plastic bag lined bins at the end of each row of seats like giant sick buckets!!!
We were dumped off the ferry as super fast speed - diffixcult with bikes that had to be carried up steep narrow steps and all the panniers - nearly left two behind - pnly realised as we counted all the baggage - had to be passed over to us as the boat was pullinmg away form the pier. Not sure what all the fuss was about and speed etc as all they did was some pretty impressive manouvering to get the ferry through the narrow entrance into the very small harbour at John O'Groats - very nifty bit of work.
As it was now well past 8 oclock, the photographer that stakes a claim to the famous photo opportunity at John O'Groats wasn't there to extract any money from us so we took the obligatory photo - but minus the usual signpost sign that he very carefully takes away at the end of each day. Two lycra clad blokes and a suffering wife were also taking a photo - 'Which way are you going?' and 'How long did it take you?' was all they wanted to ask - and not really listen to you reply. They were End to Enders, and their homemade flag was for 'blood bikes'. The campsite was very close by - somehow it epitamised a typical British campsite - even down to the bleakmess of the weather - the wind was getting back up now, and was very exposed to the sea. Chose our spot behind a camper van to try and give us some protection should the wind really get up later, and our tent is OK as long as it is pitched into the wind - otherwise very vulnerable to wind and rain. Next door was a large army looking tent - a gang of fellas doing a recce trip for a larger group of End to Enders in June - cycling 1200 miles, 3 were cycling the rest were there to form the SAG team - never known what SAG actually stands for - but an American term for being the support team for a group of cyclists - carrying all the gear, sorting food out, putting tents up and down etc - so emans the cyclists can move a whole lot faster than we can - loaded down with all our stuff - plus just setting up and pulling down our 'house' every day takes lots of time. The three cyclists left about 6am this morning - leaving the SAG team to sort out all their stuff etc. I heard them up and about - so turned over and snuggled down in my sleeping bag listening to the rain falling on the tent.
A very grotty days cycling today - Roger was most definitely not a happy chappy - can't say it filled me with much joy either. The wind was a strong easterly one - and guess which way we were cycling - that's right - EAST!!! The rain was a really wet persistant drizzle, and when we called in at the Castle of May (where Queen Mum used to come for her holidays - she bought the rundown castle in the 50's) - we were very out of place looking like a pair of drowned rats compared to the silver rinse brigade that were there. A lovely cafe - built by donation mainly - very nicwely done - painted in the blue that the Queen Mum liked, of sustainable wood and local building materials etc - very thick and posh looking napkins - a lovely bowl of pea and ham soup with a buttered cheese scone warmed us up nicely. The castle is only small but very interesting and the guides are a mix of locals and people who knew her when she used to go and stay there. Of interest is that virtually none of the royal family actually ever stayed there - they preferred the Royal Yacht Britannia as it was much warmer.... The Queen Mum (I'd forgotten she was 102 when she died) formed a trust for the castle about 6 years before dhe died, and wanted it to become a tourist attraction so as to bring money into the area once she had died - they had had a 'dummy run' before she died. The guides in the house were incredibly knowledgable and full of little intimate tales about the Queen Mum and the dratted snappy corgis. We looked round the walled garden but not much to see at the moment - I was amazed how trimmed back all the plants and roses were - hard to believe that they will all grow and bloom this summer and form a show garden.
Hard to get back on to the bikes and get cycling again. A long grind of a hill just before Thurso - did hope to get further today but would have meant another couple of hours minimum into the head wind and a night camping again - so opted for an early finish and a very small hostel, Sandra's Hostel - over a fish and chip shop. Really appreciated the lovely hot shower - the first shower for many a day - and warmed up reading in bed before weakening to a chip shop supper, a read of the latest election news in The Times, and onto the internet to check emails etc out. The rain stopped for a while after we got here but is back drizzling again now. O I do hope summer comes soon - would be nice to be able to cycle without the big yellow coats, two layers underneath and big winter gloves on.
Great to get the emails from you all - not sure why some of you can leave comments and others can't? What's the secret Shay?
Sunday, 2 May 2010
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...
Kirkwall to Kirkwall (Orkney)
Was going to say how great it was to be sat at a picnic table outside our tent in the sun, but the clouds are back once again and their is the suspicion that it will rain any moment!! So after getting myself all set up, downloading my photos onto the notebook and then onto a memory cards as well as backup, looking at emails etc I'd better shut the laptop down and move into the lounge at the campsite building - there was definitely a large blob of rain I felt then.
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