A Northern Journal

I sit here in Birsay Bay Tearoom on a wild and windy day looking across to the Brough of Birsay. The clouds hang low in the sky but as the wind is south-easterly the sea isn’t as rough as it might be presumed to be on such a wild day. Black cattle graze the links. The Brough itself is shrouded in a fine mist and the rain begins to fall in earnest. Few folk are outside and after a quiet start the tearoom is filling up with vistors, locals and tourists (even at this time of the year).

My mind wanders back to a fine hot summer that seems to have faded into the mists of time, even tho’ it was only a couple of months ago. On a warm August day, my parents and I stacked our bikes into the horsebox, and I drove us over to Tingwall for the ferry to Rousay. The ferry was packed with cars, bicycles and people. It seemed that everyone was heading to the island. The journey itself was smooth and we disembarked on the island to set out for a clockwise journey around the island. As we left the small harbour and cycled up the steep hill I wondered to myself what on earth was I thinking doing a cycle of 15 miles when I usually do 5-6 miles at the most. The weather was thankfully nowhere near as hot as the day before (Dounby Show) and there was a breeze to help keep us cool. At the top of that first hill, we found the entrance to Trumland House and noted that the gardens were open to the public so we decided that if we had time, we would have a look round before we got the ferry back.

Setting off, with the hill(s) of Rousay to our right and the turbulent waters of Eynhallow Sound to our left we cycled gently along between fences, walls and field of green grass and golden barley waving in the gentle breeze. At the Taversoe Tuick tomb, we stopped to have a look and clamber in this two-storey tomb and look at the views over mainland Orkney and take the first of many photographs. The cycle continued and stopped, and continued and stopped, as plenty of photo opportunities grabbed us. We didn’t bother visiting some of the other archaeological treasures as both my parents and I had visited them before. This trip was a cycle, not walk, and anyway, I doubt that I was fit enough to do both cycling AND walking!

I am a stubborn cyclist and really don’t want hills to beat me, but even on my shiny new bike the first long drawn out hill above the Midhowe broch and chambered tomb beat me! Well, actually, the car that careered past me on the single track road did. As I wobbled and ground to a halt - so I had to walk after all! On the bleak north side we looked (from a distance) at a clearance village (or should I say croft(s)?) set in the heather, the remains of the old field systems just visible. A little bit more of a climb took us to the brow of a hill, then the looooooong straight fairly steep road down towards the Loch of Wasbister (on which there is a crannog) where we sat eating our lunch in the shelter of the lichen covered wall of the graveyard on the loch’s edge. Woo hoooooo! That was a fast cycle down the hill – over 30 mph according to my cycle computer. 

After a while seated by loch edge munching my leftover sandwiches from the Dounby Show the day before, we got back on our bikes with the prospect of a long steep hill to climb which we could see long before we got to it. Resolutely, at 2mph I pedalled and pedalled and pedalled until eventually I decided to walk and found that I could actually walk faster than cycling. Once that was behind us we stopped at a monument / sculpture (or something) which was set on heathery ground looking out over the North Isles and beyond.

 

 

 

“Gods of the earth, Gods of the Sea”

 

 

 

The final stretch back to the ferry was upon us. The wind behind helping to get a turn of speed down another long steep hill that even I pulled back from. It was exhilarating, though! We arrived back at the gates to Trumland House, parked up the bikes at the back of the gatehouse, paid our £1.50 and walked up the long drive to the house and gardens which were (and still are) undergoing extensive restoration. And… this is another story, a hidden Jewel in the Orkney Islands! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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