lighthouse | Anecdotage

Having looked at the north of Shetland, we leave Deltings Marina at Brae and head south towards Sumburgh. We’ve booked to stay at the Sumburgh Hotel- not in a room, but in our van, hooked up to one of several points in their roomy car park.

On the way we get to drive across Sumburgh Airport runway, which would be unnerving were it not for warning lights on the road. We stop to look at a historic, bronze age encampment just beyond the runway, although due to closure we can only look from the fence.

Opposite the airport, and out of sight but not earshot, is a curving, white-sand beach with barely another soul on it. Today is warm and sunny and we opt for a couple of hours enjoying the weather and the view, which takes in Sumburgh Head, topped with a lighthouse. From time to time a plane or a helicopter glides across, otherwise it’s peaceful and pleasant.

We make our way to the Sumburgh Hotel, where we are to stay and given that there’s nobody around we park up and plug in. We’ve reserved a table for dinner. There’s a sudden invasion of flies and they’re everywhere, prompting us to close the van up and fight back with swats. Later they are also plaguing the hotel restaurant, for which the waiter apologises.

In the morning we take the van up towards the car park near the top of Sumburgh Head and find it packed with vehicles so we park further down and walk up the sloping path. There are fewer visitors than the jam-packed car park suggests so perhaps many are not willing to climb up to the lighthouse. But it is worth the effort. Peering over the low wall there is a sheer rock-face and far below, a large outcrop protruding from the waves, almost covered in chattering, squabbling razorbills.

We continue on up and through a gate, up to where there is a wall and a viewing platform. There are a few others standing on the platform or by the wall and they are all looking at the same thing. Husband gets to the wall first then turns and beckons me, grinning. I can just about see over the wall and I get to see what is attracting all the attention. In the sheer, rocky wall there are small crevices and ledges, and from the crevices Puffins are emerging to stand in the sunshine. We are close, although behind the wall. The Puffins stand around nonchalently, preening or simply gazing out to sea. It’s as if they’re paid to do shifts for the spectators. While they’re unperturbed by we humans, they quickly withdraw into their holes when gulls swoop a little low over them.

At last we tear ourselves away and go on to take a look at the views and the lighthouse. On the way back down, as we reach the Puffin spot we stop to chat to the RSPB man, who’s tasked with recruiting subscribers today. I agree to listen if he’ll take some publicity leaflets for The Conways at Earthsend: Amazon.co.uk: Deans, Jane: 9781784659615: Books, which he does! Over the wall a cheeky Puffin is nearer still, posing like a pro.

Next to the hotel is Jarlshof, an ancient site that has housed stone age, bronze age and Vikings in its time. It’s extensive and well preserved and we spend some time there before we leave.

Our stop for the night is at Cunningsburgh, halfway back to Lerwick, another small marina site but with outstanding kitchen and showers.It’s away from the village, which seems to be flung all over the place, but we’ve noticed a sign for ‘designer knitwear’ en route, so we’re planning to stop and take a look.

Grace is also known as the novelist, Jane Deans. Her new novel, The Conways at Earthsend is now out and available from Amazon, Waterstones, Goodreads, W H Smith, Pegasus Publishing and many more sites. Visit my author page on Facebook: (1) Jane Deans, Novellist, Short Fiction and Blog | Facebook

It’s a wrench to leave beautiful Unst and make our way back to Shetland, but we’ve lots more to see, so we return via the ferries, first to Yell. Slightly larger than Unst, Yell seems almost entirely to consist of peat bog, swathes of bog cotton decorating it and areas where it’s been cut and bagged ready for collection. I get a sense it’s even more sparsely populated than Unst although it may not be so. The aptly named ‘Midyell’, half way across the island looks to be the biggest community.

Then we take the ferry from Yell over to Shetland. We are headed to Brae and Deltings Marina, where we are booked in. Many of the Shetland island sites are at marinas, where there are electric hook-ups, showers and sometimes kitchen facilities, too. These services are shared with boat users, of which, of course there are many as on all islands.

Brae is quite a large village in Shetland terms, sprawling around a large bay, and even has a small co-op supermarket, something we haven’t seen for days! It is also home to an award-winning fish and chip restaurant, which is a pleasant find.

Above the marina building there’s a patch of grass where a few tents are pitched, housing a group of young girls who are clearly enjoying the start of their school holidays. They appear on the jetty in wet suits and proceed to leap into the harbour or push each other in, shrieking, climbing out and beginning again. After their dip they clamber up on to the quay and shower using the hosepipe. Later they wander down in pyjamas for an impromptu game of badminton. They are a lovely, uplifting sight as they enjoy the outdoors and each others’ company.

We set off towards the north of Shetland, travelling to the north west, where the landscape becomes wilder and more rugged than ever and when the coastline appears it’s spectacular and can rival any coastline in the world for views. On the way towards Eshaness Lighthouse we pass a cafe/campsite, perched high above the sea with a stunning outlook, although there is nothing else around except for the cafe.

Further along, out to sea there’s an amazing island with an archway that looks as if it’s suspended somehow, an unearthly sight. This is Dore Holm, looking like a horse drinking the sea, its neck stretching down into the waves.

At Eshaness there’s the remnants of an ancient volcano. We pull up by the lighthouse and walk down across the springy, peaty turf to a giant scar in the earth, a gorge with sheer rock walls and dark, oily sea at the bottom. It’s a haven for seabirds who’ve taken over every tiny ledge. Again, we’ve got this wild, beautiful place almost to ourselves. We walk around the end and to the cliff edge and I spot what looks very much like an ancient spear head, lying on the turf. Husband is convinced, although it seems unlikely. But I pick it up anyway, because we can always say that it is!!

Next week: Sumburgh and the Puffins!

Anecdotage

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Shetland. Sumburgh.

Shetland. Eshaness.