Shetland Islands 2015

Sandwick to Veensgarth - Friday, 23rd July

I had a very comfortable night and felt refreshed after a hot shower. All my stuff was dry again which made packing up a lot easier. I could smell bacon being cooked somewhere below, so made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Ian was already sat waiting. He mentioned that each morning had been something of a surprise for them as breakfast never seemed to match what they'd ordered the night before. Yvonne arrived and they both speculated what might be on the menu, given that they'd basically given up hope of receiving what they actually wanted.
In the event, my breakfast was already cooked and I spied it being kept warm in the oven. I took up the offer of bran flakes to start. Ian, presumably with the benefit of experience chose a mix of two types of cereal and that seemed to be all that he wanted. I always like cooked food to be served steaming hot on the plate so was very much looking forward to full breakfast straight from the oven. Regrettably, the oven could not have been set much above 50 degrees and the food was less than piping hot. At least I had everything that I'd wanted and was well set up for the day.
Jeanette explained that she was going out soon to Cunningsburgh. So straight after breakfast, I hurried around to reload the bike and made ready to leave. After paying the bill, I thanked Jeanette for her kind hospitality and rolled out of her drive to start the next stage of my journey north.

I was heading to Scalloway to see where the Shetland Bus operations were located after their move from Lunna in 1942. A few minutes after rejoining the A970, Jeanette drove past with a wave and I watched her little car disappear into the distance.
I reached Cunningsburgh after about twenty minutes so pulled off the road to take advantage of some well placed public toilets. I'd ridden this road before and remembered the hills and drops around Okraquoy, Fladdabister and Quarff, together with the excellent long distance views out to sea. Eventually I reached the Scalloway turning near Gulberwick, where I'd been many times before.

The road climbs up and over to meet the Scalloway road at a T-junction. I stopped in the lay-bye above Scalloway by the interpretation board and was semi-taken aback by the view of the town down below. In the harbour was another float hotel and cruise ship which rather dominated the town. Clearly island accommodation was being supplemented everywhere.

The road drops down in a smooth curve round to the left, before an abrupt little climb into Scalloway itself.

I thought that I'd go and have a wander around the castle first, so propped up the bike behind a wall just outside the Scalloway Museum and had a mooch.

There was a fair amount to look at and I was taken with the information about the Great Hall.

I retrieved the bike and went in search of the Shetland Bus memorial by the waterfront along Main Street.
When I saw it I was almost choked, it really is a beautiful thing. I'd read that the memorial was built using stones from the place where each of the 44 crewmen who died on the Shetland Bus missions came from. Their names are listed on plaques on the side. On top is a sculpture of one of their trawlers on high seas.

At the side were three interpretation boards which explained the Shetland Bus Operation.
Further along Main Street is the Prince Olav Slipway which was used during the war. There are two plaques on the wall. The top one records the visit of Prince Olav Crown Prince of Norway in October 1942 and the bottom one is in memorial of Leif Larsen and all involved with the Shetland Bus, which was unveiled by his daughter Astrid in 1991.

Visiting these sites really brought home to me the bravery of these people who risked their lives to maintain a link between Shetland and occupied Norway at a time when the North Sea was an extremely hazardous place to be. I was humbled by it all and was glad that I'd visited both Lunna and Scalloway bases and followed in the foot steps of David Howarth.
I was heading back towards the Scalloway Museum and found myself going along New Street with it's pretty pastel coloured terrace houses. The most remarkable thing however was the incongruous cruise ship at the end of the road.

I thought that I'd go and investigate these temporary newcomers to Scalloway and head down to the harbour for a closer look. The floatel turned out to be the Bibby Challenge which didn't appear to be in its finest fettle. The cruise ship was on the other side so I couldn't, nor particularly wanted to get any nearer.

I resumed my journey to the museum and plonked the bike in the same place again against the wall. The museum is great. The exhibits were really engaging, however my specific interest was in the Shetland Bus displays and huge maps that explained the extent of the operations in the North Sea.

I'd intended to camp somewhere around Scalloway, possibly on the headland to the west of the Town. In the event, it took me a while to find the right path, and once there it didn't look that inviting; not to mention having to unload and reload the bike to get it over a locked gate. The museum wi-fi was useful in finding the telephone number of the hotel that I'd wanted to stay in right from my first visit to Shetland (don't ask me why). I rang the hotel and booked a single room for my final evening on Shetland.
I cycled out of Scalloway heading north up the Tingwall valley following a route I knew quite well. As usual, I stopped at the boat house by the Loch of Tingwall and had a look at the interpretation board. The little peninsular in the loch was once an island known as Ting Holm which served as the location for a parliament until the 1570's.

A couple of twitchers were training their binoculars on a pair of swans on the far side of the loch. They weren't sure if they were a specific type, which would have been of extreme interest to them if they had been.
I continued over to the airport, but all seemed quiet.

Eventually I arrived at my destination in Veensgarth, specifically the Herrislea House Hotel.

The hotel was extremely quiet and there seemed to be nobody around. There was a slight kerfuffle with the bike and I eventually found a secluded spot where it was hidden from view. The receptionist was efficient if slightly brusk, and my room was on the tiny side. Then again, I had booked a single room so couldn't really complain. Once ensconced, I had a shower and a bit of a rest. I was beginning to feel ever so slightly claustrophobic in my room and there was still plenty of sunlight left in the day, so I decided to go out again for a walk. The obvious destination was the wind turbines on top of the hill and remarkably, the weather was suddenly very nice.
I packed up a few things and set off up the road to where it joined the main A970 Lerwick Road. There were fine views down Dales Voe.

I noticed a track going off to the right towards the turbines so this seemed like the obvious route. Half a mile further on, there was a locked gate marking the boundary of the wind turbine site itself. I wasn't expecting there to be any access problems as the wind turbines near home are open to all. I was in two minds what to do, but in the end I decided to climb over and carry on. I knew it was private, but I wasn't doing any harm and the worst that could happen would be that someone shouted at me to leave.

Wind turbines up close are really quite graceful, especially when set against a blue sky.

The 360 degree view from the top was spectacular, and well worth the trespass. It was as if I could see the whole island archipelago laid out before me and I started to identify all the places that I'd visited over the years. The four points of the compass revealed Foula out on the horizon, the Northern Isles, the Out Skerries and south down to Sumburgh. I really felt quite emotional that here I was on my last evening of my final visit and Shetland was revealed to me in one complete scene in near perfect weather.

I sat down and consumed my little picnic in a zen like state of total happiness. I hadn't planned on climbing the hill. It was as if I'd been drawn to the Herrislea just so that I could witness this final parting experience. All very fitting I thought and quite profound.

Day eight