Solvitur ambulando – it is solved by walking

In terms of a "different" walk, one of the more interesting in Orkney is the Holms of Ire just off Sanday's north coast directly across from Airon farm.  The two tidal islets--Inner Holm and Outer Holm--are accessible only at low tide.  As the name implies, Inner Holm is closest to Sanday's mainland; Outer Holm the furthest distant.

April 18, 2022 Whale Point Cairn at Airon; view toward Holms of Ire 

Different, the Holms of Ire walk is also somewhat difficult, at least in surety of footing.  It was similar to our walk out to the tidal island of Davaar at Campbeltown in 2019,   [https://whitleyworldtravel.blogspot.com/2019/06/ficklness.html] but with a distinction.  An actual causeway (called the Dhorlin) to Davaar exists at Campbeltown.  Whereas a causeway claimed to go out to the Holms of Ire is true only in the most general sense. 

April 18, 2022  Tidal channel between Airon farm and Inner Holm of Ire 

The Holms of Ire actually have broad "U" shaped tidal trenches, which the walk bisects perpendicularly--crossing a big ocean ditch that floods twice each day.

April 18, 2022  Another view of the big tidal ditch off Airon farm

 

The approach to the Holms is shingled with fairly deep piles of ocean-rounded rocks.  These are rather "tippy" whenever one's weight is placed atop them.  Walking requires an awareness of balance...which sadly senesces with the explorer's increasing age.

April 18, 2022 Darla picking her way down from Airon

Adding to unstable footing in places, tidal rocks are matted with patches of treacherously slick seaweed. These may mostly be avoided by picking one's route carefully.  (As I was reminded several times during the trek).  Still, crouching low and nearly on all fours a time or two to collect balance and traction may be expected for those venturing--whether young or otherwise.  

The term "holm" is derived from the Norse word holmr, meaning "small and rounded island".  That may be true for Outer Holm.  "Oval" in shape, it is perhaps a third mile long by a quarter mile wide.  But for Inner Holm, not so much.  It is narrowly linear, over a third of a mile in length and only an eighth mile wide at its best.  So, we defer to the Norse regarding their name of the place.

April 14, 2022  View north along spine of Holms of Ire

Prior to driving out, Sanday locals cautioned us.  Take care parking at Airon.  The current owner has had people towed.  Word to wise.  Fair enough.

We then got the laundry list with an accompanying thin veiled eye-roll, the meaning of which was not evident.  Call it mixed signals. 

Airon had been given to a new not-from-Sanday wife by an older Sanday gentleman, we were told, who subsequently died.  To the disdain of some, Airon farm was repurposed to keep Shetland ponies; a menagerie of sorts.  That evidently made it a hobby farm versus a "real" farm.

April 18, 2022  One of Airon's horses above the Holms of Ire

Here, I interject a lesson from my Dad when I was a young strapping lad all of 7 or 8 years of age.  I was clearly competent enough from my wealth of worldly experience to pronounce upon all things "manly man" and was derisive of all else. 

Dad was a produce buyer of crops grown in Virginia for markets in New York.  A different age.  He often bought crops from the last of the old Depression Era farmers with cash, sometimes by the briefcase full.  They distrusted any other form.  When I could convince Dad to let me tag along, I accompanied him.  

One purchase involved kale, a crop in the range of 40 acres.  Riding up the dirt track to the farmhouse (business was typically transacted at the kitchen table), I was surprised by a couple two acre field plots of daffodils.  I derided the clearly non-manly man farming.  Definitely not ordinary.  Dad corrected me.  

"That farmer is sharp.  He's probably making more money on just those four acres of flowers than all the other farmers are making on their entire farms."  Pop bought the kale crop...as well as cut flowers which were loaded in waxed "breather" cardboard flats (no plastic in that day), stacked onto New York bound trucks blown full with shaved ice off the loading dock (no refrigeration trailer units in that day either--even air conditioning was very rare.)  And a lesson was learned.      

April 18, 2022  View of Airon cairn from Inner Holm

My point:  it is unwise to deride so-called "hobby farms"--even if I could identify one of them.  So whether Airon has been converted into a pony ranch or not (and strictly speaking it apparently was not), we certainly encountered a number of their inquisitive ponies on the pasture through which our walk to the Holms of Ire began.

Not that we had need to add to our apprehensions, but as we drove to the end of the sealed track (road) at Airon a young man, apparently a service technician, drove out.  We hailed him and inquired about parking.  That was fine, he said.  But, "Be mindful of the tides."  

We were very mindful indeed.  That is the North Atlantic, after all.  It would be an unmitigated disaster to think in terms of needing to sprint across those tidal ditches and rough skerries.  Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.  We would be no fools.  But we were perhaps a little too mindful.  We abbreviated our walk on Outer Holm, which in retrospect we had plenty of time.  Still, those are considerable tidal ditches, and I'm no kicking spring chicken these days.  

April 18, 2022  Jumbled foundation on Inner Holm

It also turns out that the gratuitous story regarding Airon's current ownership was a bit off mark.  As would be discovered later, Airon was the home for nearly two decades of the renowned British composer Sir Peter Maxwell Davies (1934 - 2016).  Davies, formerly the Master of the Queen's Music (i.e. something of a music laureate) passed in March 2016 at Airon.  

Upon his death at 81, he gifted Airon to his "partner" Tim Morrison.  Evidently, this was the foundation of the local's "wife" eye roll.  As Morrison put it in online eulogies for Davies, "We were lovers long ago, and then in the last few years of his life, we acted as family for each other, latterly as his next-of-kin."  Whatever.  About the only thing I find a little untoward was Morrison focusing on the "I am his heir" thing. Not to be insensitive, but that sounded too much like Al Haig's "I'm in charge" deal after Reagan took a .22 ricochet in his left side.

Regardless, not knowing what we didn't know at the time we were there, we simply didn't want to be towed.  We left our rig as much out of the way as possible at the end of a berm that separated Roos Loch from the ocean.  Whether real farm or otherwise, our car hire was unmolested at Airon despite local concerns.  We were thankful of that much.

Davies was an interesting character, a prolific composer.  He moved out of modern society in 1971 and to the hilly Orcadian Isle of Hoy.  Davies spent a quarter century at Rackwick composing music in which he based instrumental compositions upon nature's soundscape.  In the late 1990s, Davies moved to Airon farm on the relatively flat and fertile Isle of Sanday.  It too became a soundscape source.  Several of his compositions commemorate the Holms of Ire and his home at Airon.  Thus, they warrant mention.  

Among Davies' first "Sanday" based works was Temenos, with Mermaids and Angels (1998).  An orchestral piece with flute, the title Temenos means "sanctuary"...which Davies considered Airon farm to be.  The most notable work was Litany - for a Ruined Chapel Between Sheep and Shore (1999).  Litany is a trumpet solo instrumentation, first performed in 2002.  The ruined chapel which Davies' work commemorates is St. Colm's, on the Inner Holm of Ire.

April 18, 2022  Outer Holm of Ire

St. Colm's Chapel, said to be medieval, is of a most uncertain date given its condition.  No recorded dedication has been found, but locally it has long been said to be dedicated to St. Colm.  If that claim is true, the chapel would be among the earliest in Scotland. What exists is confusing.  Several layers of human occupation or activity obscure the building foundation.  The location of chapel doorways and other details are not clear.  Its dimensions have been generally estimated.  The chapel walls were about 2' 10" thick.  Its interior measured 13' 6" by 9' 6" inside--which happens to be an almost perfect size for an early medieval chapel (back when the Christian mission tree was still green as it were).

April 18, 2022  Are these also vandalized ruins?

The lines of the building are difficult to determine even by professional archaeologists. There's little more than a rectangular depression partly filled with storm beach debris on the site over the centuries.  And there were later works over the site such as kelp kilns and probable worker huts. 

And then there's the senselessness.  The standing ruins that still exist suffered serious vandalism at the hands of recent visitors (within the last decade or so).  Apparently, the party was looking for treasure and demolished much.  After which, a crude rebuilding was done by someone else.  Whether that was Davies or Morrison or someone else familiar with the site is not known. Whoever tried to repair the damaged chapel foundations must've known the site at least well enough to realize the damage had occurred.

 

April 18, 2022  Plantie-crues on Inner Holm of Ire

Lastly, on Inner Holm some curious foundations exist...four circular and two rectangular without doorways.  One could say that these ruins dominate all those that currently exist on Inner Holm.  These are known as plantie-crues.  Similar constructions are evident in medieval monastic communities in Europe, particularly in Belgium.  These were built on the Inner Holm of Ire to create sheltered plant beds against ocean winds to produce...kale crops. 

Now there's a full circle story, solved by walking, as St. Augustine would have put it.  Whether these plantie-crues constitute manly man farming or not is for others to decide.  They were a hardy lot, though.  So just sayin'.     

April 18, 2022  Plantie-crues on Inner Holm of Ire

A spiritual thing

April 17, 2022 Easter Cross of daffodils at St. Magnus

While working out compatible schedules at the kitchen table for upcoming renovations of our homestead this Spring (2023), the contractor asked "Why Scotland?"  

The question arose when we roped off early April from the residing project.  It wouldn't work until after we returned from our Easter sojourn to Scotland.  

His question was out of the ordinary, having been asked during a construction scheduling meeting.  Off-balance, I replied:  "It's a spiritual thing."  

In other settings, I have addressed this question of "why" we travel to Scotland at Easter a number of times, in various hues and colors. 

e.g.  https://whitleyworldtravel.blogspot.com/2022/02/palmers-for-pilgrimage.html

https://whitleyworldtravel.blogspot.com/2022/04/what-was-and-what-remains.html 

But a more elaborate response would've been out of place.  My short answer seemed to satisfy the gentleman in any case.  We moved on, back to the work schedule.  

April 17, 2022  Hearth at Broch of Gurness

Whether the gentleman was simply being polite or genuinely interested on why we sojourn to Scotland at Easter, I cannot say.  But my quick reply needled me afterwards.  Surely our trips are about more than that?  Are they not about vistas and the north Atlantic?  Its seafood, smoky drams of uisge beatha and its people, with their mournful tales of the Fuadach nan Gaidheal against the joyful ceilidh here and now--these colors of life, of death and eternity, all interwoven into the tartan called Scotland? 

More, might not our sojourns be renovations in their own right, akin to replacing house siding?  Both are certainly made necessary by relentless weather; one by the natural world, and one by an indifferent modern age of soullessness, of disconnected existence in a so-called "virtual" world that is little more than digital illusion and imitation, sterile and empty.

April 15, 2022  Departure of MV Varagen framed

This recalls Emerson's transcendentalism (Self Reliance, 1841) .  "There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself, for better, for worse, as his portion." 

One is too many, and today we have far too many youth luridly possessed by the unreality of social media in some instances to the point of suicide, or worse.  Human spirit has been discounted to valueless in such a world of AI and processing code.  Yet never able to come to the knowledge of the truth, as 2 Timothy 3:7 once styled it. 

Modern humankind shares little these days beyond anger.  Everybody's incensed.  Put upon. Bereft of the warmth of real human spirit, modern humankind is fast becoming stuck in endless recriminations.  As for enlightenment and the nourishment of mercy, not so much.  Thus it seeds self destruction.  A cosplay, a vicarious existence, a pretending to live.  The future without a future. 

April 16, 2022  Taversoe Ruick (Neolithic) Cairn on Rousay

Yet, here we have Scotland (borrowing the phrase from Idaho's state song).  Teeming with with spirit, its life a cacophony upon the bagpipes.  Scotland is real, a wholesomeness of living, a ceilidh danced in merriment not just upon the cairns of forebears but upon our own as well, in time.  Not a taking of one's life, but a giving.  Not disrespect, but holding love and cherishing it. Sharing at the table of generations. If only the troubled youth today understood as much.

We go to put our own lives in the context of eternity.  To find perspective.  And from that viewpoint, we kindle a spirit of peace. 

 

Taversoe Ruick--the way out

A few leftovers

Here are a few leftover shots of Stromness and some accompanying comments.  These weren't included in the previous "carpe diem" post, but may be of interest to those considering their own sojourn to Orkney's second city.  

We took a number of photos while ambling around Stromness, including this blue door and lion knocker.  

In Scotland, owners of homes and businesses are not exactly reserved when it comes to putting up bold color schemes.  That is equally true for Scotland's wooden fishing fleet.

In Stromness, buildings are mostly faced in sandstone.  Without the splash of color, the view-shed would be one of industrial drab, an ordinary Henry Ford Puritanical color scheme of sameness.   Given the oft gray weather in these climes, bold colors may be a kind of therapy of sorts.  Much like using lights to "extend" the winter day hours in Nordic countries near the Arctic.

This riotous seaside of bold colors, often primary colors, was certainly apparent in Tobermory on Mull when we visited in 2018.  Anyhow, viva the splash of color.

March 28, 2018  Tobermory on Isle of Mull 

During our 2022 Easter Tour, many sites in Orkney were under renovation.  In particular, Maes Howe on Mainland Orkney (even though, surprise surprise its gift shop alone was open).  The medieval church ruins on the isles of Wyre and Egilsay were also barricaded.  It seems Orkney made use of its Covid shutdown "respite" to improve or preserve its stock of historical buildings.  This was true for many places in Scotland, including Inverness Castle--no entrance.

April 9, 2022  Inverness Castle under remodeling

In Stromness, remodeling was also being done on the steeple tower of their "free church" wrapped in green construction cladding.  Here, the term "free church" originally referred to a Christian denomination that is separate from the government, and thus not making public law.  The Free Church has undergone a number of unions, schisms, legal actions and divorces, so to speak.  The term litigious comes to mind.

In Scotland, Free Kirk refers to a distinct Presbyterian Church that remained outside the Union of Presbyterian Churches which occurred in 1900.  The Free Kirk has somewhat dismissively been called "The Wee Fees" because its congregation is substantially smaller than that of the United Free Kirk.  The finer distinctions are lost on me.  I am aware, in terms of unnecessary divisiveness in a church, that were the body is there buzzards unfortunately gather.  That is not said with malice.  It's merely an observation of divisiveness over minutia.         

The photo shows a curious "cut away" at the foot of the alley's steps.  It seems that earlier builders sought to maintain the width of the alley for trade carts perhaps.  Apparently that could not be done without "whittling" (or "knapping") off the corner of the building on the main street.  In any case, it's an oddity not often seen.

As to our bench in Stromness square, I'm sitting on it.  It can be seen behind the cattle-footed planter against the Lifeboats Hall.  Though it may not look like it, the planter is in the middle of a street at a T-intersection.  This was an active traffic square.  So much so, we anticipated several times that we'd be witness to a fender bender. 

Some drivers, clearly non-locals, followed the dockside road around the corner and ended up in this square at this planter.  Many seemed unsure of what to do.  Left?  Right?  Back up? The worst of the bunch were those with what might be called camper vans.  They tied up everything, mostly because of their inability to back up, or their doubt about their ability to make the turn at the T-intersection and what was around the corner. 

In a kind of quirky type thing, rocks with some word hand painted on them sort of show up in random places around Orkney.  Some of these are marketed as folk art in a few stores.  Not exactly sure why one would do so, but art is in the eye of the beholder, perhaps.

This rock was left at a Royal Post mailbox in Stromness.  It has a coating, probably polyurethane to protect it, and a vine design of some sort with the hand painted word "Adventure".  

It was left upside down at the top of the mailbox. To read these, they need to be turned over.  Another oddity, but okay.  Some people collect garden gnomes.  Others leave craft-painted word rocks here and there.  I guess it is an adventure after all.

 

 
   

 

And from the deck chair...

April 20, 2022  early morning, Galtness Battery on Shapinsay, Orkney

 

The ignored WWII sites on our 2022 Orkney sojourn should be mentioned, at least in general.  These are everywhere around the Scapa Flow anchorage.  And as we discovered, on the approaches to Wide Firth and Kirkwall.  

Had we had the time, we certainly would have visited the South Isles of Hoy and Flotta and the installations on Mainland Orkney, like the Ness just south of Stromness.  Orkney's war museums, abandoned airfields and shore emplacements are interesting in their own right.  In particular, we wanted to view the original wooden camp buildings (1938) and the landscape mural painted at Ness Battery by AR Woods.  But we did not have that luxury. 

April 21, 2022 Mural at Invergordon Train Station

 

Tradeoffs to outer islands (north or south) had to be calculated in terms of whole day trips, given travel between islands is by ferries that ply on thin daily schedules.  In lieu of the South Isles WWII sites, we opted for a day trip to Eday, plus an overnight stay on Sanday.  Both have large Neolithic cairns that were fairly high on the A list.   

As it turned out, we would be treated to murals associated with the World War at Invergordon Train Station on Scotrail heading back to Glasgow and our flight home.  So our tradeoff ended up being the right one.  We have no regrets even though this exchange surrendered exploration of World War sites.

These landmarks are still quite prevalent throughout Orkney.  Point in case, Galtness Battery on the north of Shapinsay island (population 307) was visible from the deck of the MV Varagen on our day trip to Eday.  

Military installations have a uniformity to them, and Galtness Battery is little different than a number of these military landmarks. The MV Varagen hugged Shapinsay's west coast on its scheduled Thursday morning run to Whitehall on Stronsay before landing at Backaland on Eday, our destination that morning.  

Most notable from a distance off shore, is the observation tower at Galtness.  Its upper floor had a flat projecting roof, apparently concrete, that must have provided cover for the watch.  The tower would have been used to spot and direct battery fire.  Below its upper level was an open front room toward the sea.  This apparently held the battery's searchlights.  Adjacent buildings were also visible, one of which is said to have been the engine room (for providing electricity) and possibly some barracks. 

The tower overlooks Wide Firth channel at the approach to Kirkwall between Shapinsay and Gairsay (a small islet of 590 acres, population 3).  [For historical perspective, Gairsay's population in 1838 was 69.]  Directly west of Galtness Battery is Grass Holm (perhaps as much as 90 acres in extent and now uninhabited) and Taing Skerry (essentially rocks that are just above sea level).  The ferry channel to Backaland runs between these two geologic features.

Galtness Battery was initially armed in May 1940 with a 12 pounder (76 mm shell--rate of fire 15 rounds per minute). These guns were old, from WWI, but still in use for coastal defense in WWII.  They were mounted to combat the menace of German U-Boats and fast attack surface E-Boats.  The 12 pounder is manually traversed and elevated.  It had an inadequate rate of fire against fast moving surface attack vessels.  So, the old gun at Galtness was replaced by a new quick firing twin 6 pounder (57 mm--rate of fire 72 rounds per minute) in March 1941.

Some reorganization of the Orkney batteries was done.  Galtness was designated 148 Battery and was manned by some 250 soldiers from the 535th (Orkney) Coast Regiment.  By 1943, the threat of German attacks on Orkney had lessened.  Coastal units were drawn down given a great need for trained gunners on other battle fronts.  Then in April 1944 in preparation for the Normandy invasion, the Orkney coastal regiment was further reduced.  Batteries would become manned by Home Guards.  

At the end of the War, many in the Orkney Regiment were reassigned to infantry, and sent as occupation forces to Europe.  The 535th Regiment was officially disbanded on 1 January 1947, and the guns at Galtness were dismounted.  The battery installation was left to the elements and time.    

 

Carpe diem from a bench

The Orkney archipelago is comprised of 70 islands and skerries.  Of these, 20 are inhabited.  The islands are further divided into the North and South Isles.  Mainland Orkney is in the center.  

April 20, 2022 Departing Stromness, Orkney Mainland

 

April 16, 2022--Eynhallow island from Rousay

With so extensive an archipelago, and a vacation of two weeks total, choices must be made regarding what to see.  It is not realistic to visit all inhabited islands of Orkney in that time frame.  And this says nothing of visiting unoccupied isles such as Eynhallow--which can be reached by chartered boat if you set aside time.

Orkney has such a rich and varied set of sites that span many interests.  Nature reserves for wildlife (sea birds or seals), sand beaches, viewpoints, paths on the rims of sea cliffs...and historical sites (our bailiwick).  Even for those not venturing afield, there are urban interests like distilleries and shops.  Again, only so much can be taken in on one trip.  

During the winter (2021-2022), we began to fill in our "must see" itinerary.  Organizationally, this preliminary list is important.  It helps frame transportation and lodging that are linked to it...what is possible and what is not.  Our "A list" mostly comprised of Orkney prehistoric sites from the Neolithic (c. 3500 BC to 2000 BC in Orkney) and Bronze Age (c. 2000 to 800 BC), and two important Iron Age brochs (c. 800 BC to 400 AD) we definitely wanted to explore.

On previous Easter sojourns, some of our longer and honestly most glorious day hikes were our visits to Iron Age sites--like Dun Nosebridge on Islay, the remote An Sean Dun on Mull and Dun Skieg on Kintyre.  As a class, Scotland's Iron Age sites are inspiring, easily worth the footwork to reach them.  

March 2017  View of Islay from the top of Dun Nosebridge

 

March 28, 2018  An Sean Dun, Island of Mull

April 17, 2019  Dun Skieg on Kintyre

Orkney's brochs (Gurness and Midhowe) definitely did not disappoint.  These broch ruins proved to be every bit as magnificent as hoped, and will be the subject of future posts.  

Our prehistoric "A list" formed the core of our travel and walk itinerary on Orkney.  But we do not operate on an inflexible schedule.  One can't in many respects.  We leave space for casual discovery, for those "carpe diem" tourist pursuits we might happen across while in route.

One genre of sites we did not visit while in Orkney were the World War sites.  But not for trying.  On Wednesday, April 20, we alighted in Stromness on the noon bus from Kirkwall and on foot.  

April 20, 2022  Sanday pier

We already had a busy morning, departing Sanday on the morning ferry back to Mainland Orkney, and then returning our car hire in Kirkwall.  That was a pay the piper routine--we had to return it full of fuel.  

In Kirkwall, we took the rental to a fuel station, and had a typical conversation with a local who was also at the pump.  The price of gas is sort of like comments about the weather.  Yikes!  It was definitely up there.  By rough calculation we burned just over 9.6 gallons in our exploring.  That works out to about £6.42 per gallon...or $8.66 in dollars.  And little did we know, fuel was set to skyrocket worldwide.  Price vertigo to be sure. 

April 20, 2022 Gas prices

From Orkney Car Hire, we walked the block or so to Kirkwall's bus "stands" and took the noon bus to Stromness where our North Link ferry (MV Hamnavoe) was moored.  That evening it would return us to mainland Scotland and the Thurso rail head homeward bound.

We had time on our hands in Stromness; on the order of three or four hours.  It was enough time to walk to Ness Battery below Stromness and back.  But the hike proved to be a fleeting consideration only.  

In Stromness under pack

We were under pack at this point.  This always weighs, pardon the pun, upon walking decisions.  More to the point, we were somewhat spent.

Even with a car hire on the 2022 trip, we had already trekked some 30 to 40 miles of Orkney, across six islands.  Not only were we nearly out of time in Orkney, we were running a touch low on "oomph".

As we ambled southward through the streets of Stomness toward the Battery, we hopped into several shops along the way.  In one, we purchased a locally crafted woolen blanket.  To avoid schlepping it around, we paid the Royal Mail parcel postage to have it delivered to Idaho once we got back.  We did the same in 2017 with woolens from Islay Woolen Mill.

The shop keeper was more than kind to take care of it.  But the shop hop in Stromness proved to be enough, thank you. 

In Stromness under pack

The wool blanket buy was somewhat a foreign exchange conversion near the end of our sojourn.  We have done this sort of thing too a few times, though admittedly usually in the Duty Free whisky shop at Glasgow airport before boarding our flight home.  In any case, we "dumped" the bulk of our remaining cash Stirling on the woolen.  

We kept enough cash back for taxi fare from Scrabster harbor to our hotel in Thurso that evening, and for incidentals the next day on the long distance train to Glasgow.  (We could have spared that forethought, however, since Covid had foreclosed catering carts onboard Scotrail.)  And we kept enough cash for breakfast and the express bus to Glasgow International.  

Bottom line, we did not extend our walk beyond the outskirts of Stromness to the battery.  We returned to the center of Stromness to take lunch on a bench in the town square.  Curiously, this proper elderly pastime was actually enjoyable.  

We spent the better part of two hours on that bench, watching with some fascination the movement of Stromness, its commerce and people.  One activity we watched was a trawler which had just landed its catch of the day.  

Literally, it was selling seafood directly from its nets.  The catch was palletized into what seemed to be "Gaylord" containers moved about by fork lift.  Some was being stuffed into a waiting refrigerated "lorry".  And some went into what seemed to be a fish market warehouse on the wharf.  

April 20, 2022  Coal, propane and wood delivery

The lorry was likely bound for Mainland Scotland on the same ferry we were.  The catch we watched getting sold would probably make its way over road to larger markets in Scotland.  In any case, we enjoyed our bench view of Stromness, Orkney's second largest city. 

Stromness

A couple things stood out as different.  First, while it may have looked like a pedestrian way, actually the paved and cobbled street carried traffic both ways, as well as bicycles.  In places, it was tight.  Not exactly a harmonious affair for those on foot.  Staying alert is key. 

One can imagine stepping out a front door only to be hugged by a neighbor's vehicle.  Parking is anybody's guess.  A small lot existed for maybe 5 small cars, nowhere near big enough for all.

Second, entrances to most homes and apartments were in alleyways.  These were like wind tunnels.  The prevailing wind was off the sea, perpendicular to the main street and right down the alleys.  Some alleys were creatively kept with potted plants.  Others, not so much.

Stromness wind tunnel

Third, some of the names used for streets or geographical features are more than curious, as the photo taken by Darla suggests.  "Hell Hole" has municipal offices on it.  One can only guess at the story. The photo also shows Orkney's flag in the background.

More or less at Hell Hole, we backtracked to the town square and did our leisurely lunch.  Near 6 p.m., we boarded the Hamnavoe on our return trip to Idaho.  

April 20, 2022  "Hell Hole" Stromness

Old, old story

Boot worn and mudded after six thrilling days of Orkney exploration, we forwent Easter morning services at St. Magnus Cathedral.  The decision hinged more upon humility, being unfit for decent company, beggared and tired.  

We did visit the open cathedral later that afternoon, however.  A remarkable edifice.  Its timeline is difficult to wrap one's head around; after all, St. Magnus has been home of Kirkwall's faithful for some 900 years.  It gave Kirkwall its name.  

Further, being constructed by Vikings in penance of a murder it is said, St. Magnus Cathedral does not neatly "fit" stereotypes of the war like Norse...their long-ships (lang skip), raiding and bloodletting, death to monks and all manner of hurt.  

As ancient cathedrals go, St. Magnus is something.  Perhaps, when compared to Italian Renaissance cathedrals on the Continent, the hewn sandstone of St. Magnus may seem rough, rustic.  But we are unqualified to make such a critical distinction.       

St. Magnus' hewn sandstone is said to have been quarried on the Isle of Eday.  An aside, we attempted to find this quarry while we were on Eday, but were not successful.  The main reason was that the single track near where the quarry is apparently located, had no obvious parking anywhere along it. 

We mentioned this to a local lady who was out walking on south Eday.  She sought out conversation, curious as to our nationality.  She mentioned that it would have been okay to just park "anywhere".  But we were reticent to block the roadway since a few homesteads were served by the track, to say nothing of traipsing through fenced ground around those houses.    

Built of hewn sandstone or no, as the most northerly cathedral in the British Isles (and thus on the edge of the world in its day), St. Magnus has its share of ornateness, of finery.  Rest assured.

Its stained glass is certainly the equal of continental houses of worship.  

From the ethereal stained glass above to the ornate inlaid floors below, St. Magnus Cathedral does what it was doubtlessly intended to do by the Viking Lords who built it so many centuries ago--it conveys majesty and projects might.

It also yields a pensiveness, quiet reflection.  The cathedral's congregants (and simply visitors as we were) doubtless wonder at the lives long past, and yet still monumentalized in the commemorative burial stones in its walls.  

In an island realm that is literally filled with Neolithic cairns, St. Magnus lends perspective on resurrection, a poignant reminder of mortality and yet eternal life as well.  From Matthew 13:17, "For truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see."...Matthew referred to the ancient ones, those of the Neolithic, who longed to see eternal life.  

And similarly those in our own present modern day who equally long to see. 

As the old Gospel hymn (published 1879; lyrics by Katherine Hankey and put to music by William Doane) goes: 

"Tell me the old, old story,
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love"

Unseen things.  Magnus himself was also interred in the walls of the cathedral. For centuries long forgotten, an ancient and truly humble pine box was uncovered during cathedral preservation work in the 1930s.

The box, found within one of the hewn sandstone columns, was the reliquary of St. Magnus.  Far from ornate, the ancient reliquary is truly humble.  His bones were re-interred in the cathedral.

St. Magnus' simple reliquary box is presently preserved and exhibited in the Kirkwall Museum in the shadow of the cathedral.        

 

A plug for Three Mile