When I was a child - long, long ago in the mists of time! - my family and I spent many happy holidays in the north of Scotland, right up there on its most northerly coast.
John O'Groats, Scrabster, Thurso, Cape Wrath. These were always such magical names to me, places that have always felt like home - more so, perhaps, than some of Scotland's more popular tourist spots. Granted, The North might not have the massive picturesque mountains of the Highlands, but its bleak, windswept vistas possess a savage beauty that have always fascinated me.
During those long-ago childhood holidays, I often stared out to sea, from the place where the land ended and out to where the horizon met the sky. In the distance, the looming grey hulk of a distant island beckoned in the distance.
Orkney.
Part of mainland Scotland but worlds apart. Belonging, but not quite attached. Almost like loose pearls that have rolled away from the main strand of a necklace. The land where the ghosts of Vikings mingle with our older neolithic ancestors. A place of standing stones and brochs, of ancient settlements, and endless acres of sky.
Sorry for waxing lyrical, but Orkney can make a poet out of the most unimaginative person.
Orkney. The place I'd always longed to visit but had never quite managed to get there...
Until now.
So, was it worth the wait?
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| The Old Man of Hoy |
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| Hoy from the ferry |
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View of the Ness of Brodgar from our kitchen window.
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| Solitary Standing Stone. Birsay. |
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| Bay of Skaill |
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| Skarabrae |
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| Skarabrae |
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| Beads found in Skarabrae |
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| Standing Stones of Stromness |
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| Ring of Brodgar |
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| The dig at Brodgar |
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| Brodgar dig. |
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| The dangerous Eynhallow Sound |
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| The distant hills of Hoy, and low cloud over Brodgar |
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| Evie Sands |
Oh, yes, my lovelies. Definitely!
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