Unst Again

Toft - Fisherman gutting his catch

Uyeasound Primary School

Hermaness -Sothers Stack

Hermaness Wildcat?

Gannets nesting on Flodda Stack

More Gannets

Muckle Flugga Lighthouse and skerries

Hermaness Bonxie

Welcome to Unst -  Xylophone boat

Sullom Voe

Unst is a place you want to return to, it is the most northerly inhabited isles in Britain and home to some of the friendliest folk you will meet. I worked with a road engineer from Unst for many years and he could calm angry communities complaining about potholes and appalling roads by his folksy humanity.  I had made a couple of previous visits to Unst over the winter period but had wanted to see it in its summer finery.  The day was dry and calm but draped in grey clouds. My timings for the ferry were perfect all day and as always the ferries embarked on time. The Yell ferry provides a good break and a hot chocolate for 60p in the spotless saloon. The sea views and bird life add to the relaxation and make the crossing one of life's great pleasures.

I started the day on Unst by visiting Uyeasound, the small community of fewer than 100 people in the south of the island; fish farming is big business here but many houses are empty. The old harbour retains perfectly clean public conveniences, a hostel, and some historic buildings partly restored by the ubiquitous and Amenity Trust. The trust has done much thoughtful and imaginative work in Shetland and they provide excellent informative display signs as well as signage and gates on the many footpaths. I dropped into the global classroom that is the local primary school and spoke to the headteacher who lives in the headteacher's house. I had met her on a couple of occasions during the school closure debates and admired the energy and drive that she had instilled into making the school a place that nurtured values that are every bit as essential as the school curriculum. We engaged in a long conversation about Unst and she informed me of the Unst annual fishing competition at Northwick.

I drove up to Burrafirth and the lighthouse shore station where I parked for a walk across Hermaness, the National Nature Reserve. There is a path over to the west coast on a well-maintained boardwalk and on this occasion, the bonxies were quite restrained, the breeding season must be coming to an end. I reached the cliffs at their highest point and followed the faint path northwards, passing the Setter house and dropping down to East Sothers Dale. Thereafter there were lots of bonxies patrolling their territories and Shetland sheep were grazing close to the cliff edge.

I arrived at the top of one cliff and looked down on a large cat which looked like a wildcat and was in hunting mode. I have sent photos to the Wildcat Sighting group for identification, although it could be an Unst hybrid feral cat. (And so it turned out, they believe that there are no native wildcats in Shetland but a number of sightings like this one in Unst are thought to have wildcat heritage - the barred tails with a black tip and wide face are features that come from the wildcat).  Puffins were doing crazy puffin things near their burrows and gannets were gathered in large colonies on the stacks approaching Muckle Flugga. I sat and watched them make their vertical high-speed dives into the sea before climbing Hermaness Hill for my second visit since being based in Shetland. From there it seemed easier to take the direct route down through the bonxie breeding grounds to recapture the path. 

I drove round to Northwick and parked in a recently harvested hayfield, which had been opened as a temporary car park to accommodate the vehicles and trailers that had brought the boats for the fishing competition. The boats were out at the edge of the bay and not due back until 6pm so I began the drive back, stopping to see some red-throated divers at the other side of one of the Lochs.  The ferry terminal at Belmont has a boat that contains a giant xylophone made of copper pipes of different lengths and bores that are assembled so you can play scales. I tried to play some sea chanties to the amusement of some friendly Spanish visitors whom I had met earlier on the Hermaness boardwalk. 

We sped across the Bluemull sound to Yell and after a relaxed drive across to Ulsta, I was on time for the next ferry. I met a gardening club on the Yell ferry and it included a councillor whose energy as an 80-year-old constantly astounds me, she insisted that I relate where I had been before she explained her outing. The group were laden with plant cuttings from Yell including Icelandic Willows, the club had thoroughly enjoyed their visit. Every day seems laden with adventures and social events for Shetlanders.

Arriving back on the mainland I made a detour to Sullom Voe to take a closer look at the facilities, it looked mean and moody under the dark grey skies. The real reason was so I could go home via Frankie's in Brae, the best fish and chip cafe in the UK.  Unfortunately, all the tables were taken and the queue for takeaways was long. My patience lasted and then I made the journey back to Lerwick in 21 minutes for a much-appreciated fish supper.  As always Yell and Unst had delivered another splendid adventure.

Tall Ships at Half Mast

The flags arc in the strong northerlies

A lament

Bressay lost behind masts

78 metres long

Aly Bain and Phil Cunningham at Victoria Pier

Victoria Pier, Lerwick

The Tall Ship Race was in Lerwick for four days and the organisation of events, music and display of local produce was tremendous as was the French cheese stall. I had returned to Lerwick to complete some work but also to observe yet another of Shetland's remarkable set of events. Strong northerly winds have sprung up and the event organisers have postponed the next leg by a day. The shooting tragedy at the youth camp in Norway dominated everybody's thoughts today and, as about a dozen of the Tall Ships are Norwegian and the next stop is Stavanger, there was a sombre mood.  The flag at the Town Hall was at half-mast and the boats did likewise.

Ali Bain and Phil Cunningham were the main act at the Victoria Pier that I attended this evening. They played a Norwegian hymn towards the end of their set. The bond between Shetland and the crews from the predominantly North Sea nations: Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Holland, Poland, France and all parts of the UK was strengthened even further by the sense of loss of so many young people.

Half mast

Empire of the Sun sets

Agreed

After a remarkable two weeks of reading and watching the unravelling of lies, deceptions, and audacity of power exercised by Murdoch's News Corporation; nemesis was delivered yesterday.  The emperor and his scion, James, were cross-examined at length by a Parliamentary Select Committee. It was a slow process with Rupert looking and banging the table like an inmate from a Southern Cross care home and James indulging in obsequious obfuscation as he flaunted his vastly inflated ego. Wendi Deng, Murdoch's current wife, was the symbolic personification of the future - Chinese, alert, caring and in control. She was the only winner as the Empire of the Sun began to set.

The politicians of Britain had finally realised that the bad dream was over and they could put News International into the dock without fear of retribution.  If only Thatcher, Blair and Brown had realised this over the past thirty years we would be living in a far more egalitarian and peaceful country.   At least Thatcher agreed with much of the News International diatribe, there is no such excuse for Blair and Brown who seemed to be in fear and awe of Murdoch's influence and entitlement.

Summer Simmer Dim

Simmer Dim  St Ninian's Isle

I had heard a lot about Simmer Dim, the twilight of a Shetland summer evening. Daylight can last 19 hours or so around the summer solstice and even at the midnight hour there is enough light if the skies are clear to walk and enjoy the spectacular sunsets. I spent most of May and June in Shetland so I was able to experience the joy of these days on several occasions. There is a milky soft light that envelopes the landscape and creates a serene sense of fulfilment. Simmer Dim was far more inspirational than I had ever expected. 

On most days I would be wakened by the light at 4am and by 5am I was often out for a run or a walk along the coast with a friend who would call me and suggest enjoying a dawn walk. In the evening there was time to eat before venturing out late in the evening. Hills were climbed at 10pm, beaches were visited and coasts were walked. On a couple of perfect summer evenings, we drove out to Bigton and walked over the tombolo to St Ninian's Isle at midnight soaking in the mellifluous summer sea breeze, reluctant to forsake these given evenings. 

I was fortunate to have been there during a drier and sunnier summer when Shetland was a magical place and I had the company of a couple of Shetlanders who were happy to encourage and then tap into my sense of wonderment. Summer was certainly a huge contrast to the dark, wet, windy days of December and January when Shetland's weather conspires to keep most folk indoors.

All the photos were all taken between 9pm and 7am apart from the last two of St Ninian's taken on an afternoon trip when taking a colleague to Sumburgh airport.

St Ninian's Tombolo at midnight

Moon over St Ninian's

Laxfirth

Morning run to the Knab

The Knab just after 6am

Cotton Grass at Otter Point - 9:30pm

Hoo stack from Otter Point

Ward of Breiwick and Laxfirth

Burradale Wind Turbines - 10pm

Tree relic

Sandness Hill and Papa Stour

St Ninian's Tombolo 

St Ninian's

Foula

Co-pilot for the flight out

Westerwick

Da Town with Da Sneug in cloud

Grazing ponies below Da Noup

Cheer up its not the pits 

Puffins by the hundreds

Da Sneck o da Smaalie

High Five

Friendly Bonxie

Looking back to Da Kame from Da Clay Pool

Foula Primary School and Solar Panels

Da Toon o Ham

Marshall lands Council plane

Airport Terminal with Da Noup skimmed by cloud

My third attempt to get to Foula was a double success, the plane was running and I was allocated the coveted co-pilot's seat. The views from the cockpit were an unexpected bonus even though low cloud was settled on Da Sneug, the second-highest hill in Shetland at 418m. It is one of two Marilyns on Foula, which is the most remote inhabited island in the UK with a population of only 25. It is battered by the Atlantic and was the location for the film 'Edge of the World'. Foula means 'Bird Island' and it is a Special Protection Area (SPA) for birds, as well as a National Scenic Area and a Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) for its plants and geology.

The flight passed over the spectacular west coast of Mainland Shetland with the coastline looking like a wooden jigsaw puzzle with the green green grass dappled with small lochans. We flew over Da Toon o' Ham before squirting onto the landing field where a fire engine and assembly of locals had gathered to see what and who the flight brought in. The pilot chatted to the few passengers as we disembarked before we began our adventures into the wild landscape. 

I had decided to climb the two Marilyns and walk as much of the island as I could during the five hours between flights. I headed for Da Noup first, it was lower at just 248m and was still visible below the cloud level. But first I needed some protection from the Great Skuas - the dreaded Foula Bonxies. It was still the nesting season when they were at their most aggressive against intruders. I found an old fence post at Da Hametoon and strapped it into my rucksack so that it gave me two feet of timber above my head. Compared to my usual Shetland walking partner the fencepost was an unusually quiet and loyal companion for the day and probably saved me a few maulings. The initial climb was through one of the nesting sites so it was head down and a quick ascent. By the time I reached the ridge, the traffic of low-flying bonxies had decreased but they were still patrolling the ridgeline. I hunkered down below the summit to enjoy the views of the sea and to get some peace whilst I ate some food.

It was an easy descent down to Da West Bank where a number of Shetland ponies were grazing above the cliffs. It looked like a harsh environment for ponies but it wasn't exactly the pits. A group of bedraggled sheep were grazing, they had not been sheared in recent years and looked and behaved like feral animals. I descended to the cliffs where hundreds of puffins were nesting and quite happy for me to get close for photographs and to observe their quaint movements. I spent 15 minutes or so enthralled by being able to observe the life of puffins. And then down to Da Sneck o da Smaalie, a deep canyon formed from a fault in the sandstone, which was host to hundreds of Puffins and Razorbills. I climbed down into the canyon but not all the way to sea level: time was tight, there were some exposed and slippy rock faces and I was alone. 

I returned up the canyon and spotted some Shetland wren and wheatears before beginning the long climb up to Da Sneug. There was a faint path to the east of the cliffs but as I entered the clouds I had to take a compass bearing for the summit as I headed up the steep grassy slopes. The bonxies were not easily visible but emerged from the cloud heading towards me at speed and clipped my fence post a couple of times. When I reached the summit I stopped for lunch, unfortunately, I had not brought a drink, assuming that a bottle of water would not be allowed on the aircraft. 

I was determined to visit the highest cliff in Britain at Da Kame and set the compass for the kilometer-long trek across to the cliff edge. It was the most disturbing part of the walk, this was in Arctic Skua territory and they really get up close and personal. Despite the fence post, they clipped my shoulder several times as I worked my way across the complex terrain in the cloud. As I approached the cliff edge I inched my way down the greasy grass slope in the full knowledge that there was a 346m cliff imminent and visibility was no more than 15 metres. It was an anticlimax although I could hear the crashing of the sea below and the calls of the thousands of birds. I decided that instead of returning to Da Sneug I would continue to circumnavigate the island. I had the option of either keeping close to the cliff edge or bearing off inland to the east until I emerged from the cloud. Common sense took hold so I headed inland where I entered another nesting site of more bonxies; they swarmed me like giant midges. This place made Hitchcock's 'Birds' seem like a gentle adventure with nature. 

As I left the cloud above Da Clay Pool I could see the coastline ahead and I walked over to Summons Head. Unfortunately, this too was Arctic Skua territory and they are even more disturbing when you see them flying straight at you at head height. I put my hood up and my head down until I reached the start of Blober's burn, which provided an obvious route down to the houses at North Harrier. From here there is a single track that leads back to Da Toon alongside Da Crookit Burn. I was strafed on a couple of occasions by the bonxies but it was otherwise the most relaxing part of the day.

Da Toon o Ham is the main settlement. It is an untidy collection of dwellings, mainly derelict, in contrast to the impressive but probably over-designed new primary school with its bank of solar panels. The island is also served by a small hydro scheme and some wind turbines, which underlines the green credentials of the island. A pity that the same energy has not been applied to clearing the abandoned vehicles and machinery that litter Da Toon. The walk back to the airstrip allowed me to visit the church where a couple from Manchester who had been on the plane had also arrived.

We walked back to the self-service air terminal. It is a functional building, a large garden shed, that was ahead of the curve in its minimalism. It is a passenger's dream: a total absence of retail facilities, no check-in desk, and free tap water. The locals turned up for the afternoon flight: a teenage girl driving the fire appliance, a four-year-old on a quad bike and Willie extolling the virtues of island life, although coming from the West of Scotland, he did miss a drink. A tall distinguished gent asked me where I had been. I explained and he told me that there were 7000 bonxies on Foula. I think I had been buzzed by most of them and only the chicks seemed afraid of me.

I had heard numerous stories about the relaxed way of life in Foula. No flights arrived before 10:00 a.m. because no one would be up. A taxi driver had told me of a visit by a friend who had stopped to talk to the wife of the distinguished-looking gent. It was summer and she was tarring the roof - not exactly easy work for an elderly lady. He asked after her husband and was told he was on holiday. On asking where had he gone, he was told "Oh he's inside watching television."

Marshall, the friendly pilot, landed the afternoon plane and we chatted with him about our adventures as we took our seats. We were airborne in less than five minutes. I have not enjoyed flying so much since my first flight with Dan Air in 1970. And Foula, well just go there it is one of life's genuine adventures but get yourself a big stick, it is not for the faint-hearted.

One year of Blog Stats

By a strange quirk, it was exactly a year ago that I started to receive stats on the number of visits to this site.  And yesterday the page views  went through the 5000 mark.  I have earlier reviewed my first full year, a year of blogs, but I only had 4 months of stats to work with.  Since then the number of postings has doubled and the balance of postings has changed, it is more about places visited than politics or people but then I have been working a lot more over the past 8 months than in the previous year.

The posting on the GR20 walk continues to be the main driver with almost 20% of all page views and this attracts the biggest share of hits from around the world - it was published just a year ago.  The series on Shetland have also collectively reached this level although there are 21 postings at present.  After this postings on munro walks  and the lake district are well read and then there are a curious group of blogs such as Grandad, Elections, Waltzer Economy and 2011: the year of reckoning which often appear in the top ten postings for a month.  The recent holidays in Granada and Mallorca have been well read.  Every few weeks someone somewhere seems to find a couple of hours to read twenty or thirty postings but people typically dip into 1,2, or 3 postings.

Unsurprisingly the most hits came from the UK but this is now down to 67% , followed by the United States with 9%, and then France, Canada and Germany all on 2.5%.  Russia, the Netherlands, Italy and Romania also exceeded 1% of all hits and the number of site visits from India, China, New Zealand, Spain, Brazil and the Scandinavian countries are all increasing.

The monthly total of hits are surprisingly uniform at just over 400 a month.  The highest was in September 2010 during my daughter's wedding and it has only once fallen below 350 a month.  On a daily basis the highest number of hits was 82 following a reference to the blog in a promote Shetland publication.  It generally averages out at about 14 a day with Sunday being the day of least interest.