We rocked and rolled our way across the North Sea to the next stop, Kirkwall, Scotland in the Orkney Islands. Our tour took us across the landscape that looked like something out of Wuthering Heights. The guide said that about 5,000 years ago the island was covered in trees but when people came, they chopped everything down for housing and firewood. The trees never came back. Then the guide described the local sources of revenue. He was a farmer in season but he also worked on the windmill farms. The farms produced more power than the area could use so plans we being made to transport it to other areas. I don’t know how they planned to do that, but it was nice to know they had a source of income besides the tourists and subsistence farming.
What was really interesting to me were the Neolithic mounds and standing stones. They’re still excavating the mounds so they’re not as tourist friendly as the ones in Ireland but the standing stones were compelling. They’re like a small Stone Henge without the cross beams. We hurried around the circle. The weather was blustery; the rain was intermittent. Remember the scarf I bought in Edinburgh? I tossed it on as an afterthought before we set out. I thought it would keep my neck warm. Well, it did but it was so windy I had to tie it around my head to keep my cap from blowing off. I looked like a refugee. But it was a nice tour. I headed back to the hot tub to thaw my toes. I had no idea it’d be so cold. I mean, it’s fall, it’s supposed to be nippy but this was way beyond nippy. The guide said it was normal. I think he thought I was a sissy. I’ve been living in Los Angeles too long. The blood thins out.
The ship anchored at Ullapool, Scotland the next day. We had to take the tender again to get ashore. I got a kick out of it. It was more interesting than walking a gangplank. We got a tour of the town which was interesting. Our guide even sang us some songs in the local dialect. A guide following our group joked, “Oh, now my people are going to expect me to sing.” She was good. Billy and Dawn took a tour back into the highlands which sounded interesting. I wish we’d taken that tour but you can’t do everything. I did manage to buy a sweatshirt with a stylized Scottish breed of cow on the front. It’s great. I got lots of compliments again.
We had an easy channel crossing to Belfast, Ireland. We took the Giant’s Causeway tour. I’d seen so many pictures of it I was excited to see it. Billy and I both agreed that it was sort of disappointing. There was everything I’d ever seen in pictures, but it was all a lot smaller. But we had a pleasant hike down to the Causeway and got both explanations, the scientific and folkloric versions, of how it was created. Once you got used to the smaller scale of the stones you could appreciate the unusual landscape. We had to drive an hour each way to get to it but that was interesting too. I expected to see Belfast as a blasted shell of a city from what I remember of the Troubles on the news. Everything is rebuilt and clean. The countryside is lovely with tidy farms and villages. It was a lovely drive and tour. And I didn’t even need to retire to the hot tub to recover. I was adjusting. Or it was getting warmer. Probably a combination of both.
Gordon at the Giant’s Causeway in North Ireland.
This is an old castle on the way to the Giant’s Causeway. It was a beautiful day. Thank God.