Fetlar

Gutcher Geese

Vord Hill - not the most exciting 

But the Bonxies gave some low flying excitement

Summit of Vord Hill -wow

Funzie Bay

Tresta and Papil Water

Tresta

Tresta Church x

Sunday 8 May 2011

Fetlar is one of the more remote Shetland Isles. To get there from the Mainland requires a ferry to Yell and then a drive across to Gutcher, where the geese welcome the cars and visitors at Wind Dog Cafe with squawks and pecks. It was my first visit to Fetlar, and Ann, who had joined my mission to climb all the Marilyn Hills, drove us there so she could accompany me up Vord Hill. A visit to the Wind Dog Cafe is a good way to start any day if you can escape the geese. The tea and scones served mid-morning were most welcome, even if the Sunday papers had yet to travel this far north.  The ferry is the same one that goes to Unst; every third ferry adds in the longer crossing to Fetlar as well..

Vord Hill is one of Shetland's 19 Marilyns but one of those hills that sets the pulse plummeting. The tediousness of the climb was only interrupted by the occasional circling of low-flying bonxies.  Fortunately, they were not nesting yet, so there were no direct attacks - they just gave the impression of drones ready to strike. The summit held no great attraction; a solitary trig point was the only blot on a flat hill, and the views were obscured in poor light.

We returned to the car via Skutes Water, a bird sanctuary and one-time location of the UK's only Snowy Owls.  A visit to the Fetlar interpretive centre whilst a shower passed through provided a fascinating insight into the history and natural history of the island. The community-run museum was a fine example of how to enthuse visitors and engage them in the history of this most remote island.

With another couple of hours until the return ferry, there was an opportunity to drive to Funzie Bay at the far eastern extremity of the island, where the seas were being whipped up by strong winds.  The area is notable for one of Britain's rarest birds - the red-necked phalarope - and there is a nature reserve here.  Unfortunately, there were none immediately visible, and another passing shower dissuaded us from wanting to explore. But equally exotic was a new house that was under construction for a Frenchman.  It looked as if no expense was being spared to entice his partner to this wild location.  A walk along the beach and to the headland blew away the cobwebs and allowed the scale of the waves to be appreciated. It was certainly more enjoyable than the tramp up Vord Hill.

And finally, a visit to Tresta Bay with a walk along the strand and then a circuit of Papil Water, which is the home to many pairs of bonxies.  A derelict cottage had a garden full of rhubarb, which looked as if it needed stewing or to be made into jam, so we picked large armfuls and carried them back to the car as a souvenir from Fetlar. We were partners in crime

The return ferry arrived late, which is unusual, and then we were told that there would be a delay for some spares to be fitted to repair a mechanical problem. I met a charming American lady who had been dropped off at the ferry terminal for her visit to Fetlar and was to be collected at the other side by someone from her bed and breakfast.  I lent her my mobile to get a message through about the delay and arranged to give her a lift back to Lerwick in Ann's car; my hospitality to stray women was not exactly welcomed, but it was not required as her lift from the B&B turned up.  The intention had been to climb the Hill of Arisdale on Yell on the return journey, but the ferry was delayed by a couple of hours, so we decided to save the hill for another day.  We called in on Alistair at Weisdale on the return journey, dumped some of the Fetlar Rhubarb and had a coffee before driving back to Lerwick. Early the next morning, 4 jars of Rhubarb Jam were delivered to the house by my driver.