The sound of a Yell

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A retrospective entry as my first - this one was more of a work trip than a proper travelling experience, but I was on Yell for three weeks, staying with a really lovely couple in Mid Yell and managed to get a few good walks, some awesome wildlife spotting and Up-Helly-AA in. So, as a word of forewarning, there won't be too many tips about accomodation and getting around, as most of that was sorted for me, but hopefully a good read nonetheless!

Getting there:

Getting to Yell was an absolute nightmare, although not the most difficult place I'd ever tried to get to (at least there is a regular ferry!). I left the accomodation I was in on the Saturday morning and headed with all my belongings in a rucksack (the rest was at my parent's house - I'd been in London after three months in South Africa, but that's another story..) off to Gatwick. Flight from Gatwick to Aberdeen, 2 hours. Eight hour wait in Aberdeen.

Aberdeen is a great city, very friendly, but you really don't get much of a chance to see it if you're only there for eight hours! Not deterred, I dropped my bags at the ferry terminal and wandered off in search of lunch (pub) and some entertainment for the afternoon. Being in the docks, I managed to wander straight into the maritime museum. Definitely worth a visit if you've got just a few hours to kill, and especially if you're heading up to the Shetlands. Great exhibit on the Oil Industry.

Got aboard the ferry, gale force winds forecast. Ferry was held for something lie three hours, felt more like a few days. I hadn't booked a cabin, so once they had the manifesto on board, I duly trotted down to the purser and got myself in a spare berth, sharing with a retired teacher; great chap - off to help his daughter move into her new life in Lerwick for a few days.

Ferry got underway. I felt VERY sick! a sneaky beer, a souple of stugeron tablets, a heavy meal (definitely not advised, but always helps me sleep) and a lie down in front of a decent film sorted me out. Thrown against the wall of the cabin at around 4am, thought the ship had hit a whale. After a minor, drowsiness-induced panic, I realised it was just insanely rough and there was no chance I'd get back to sleep. Tried getting out of bed, fell over. Got back into bed. Pretended to sleep.

Struggle out of bed and had the usual, ferry standard cooked breakfast. Shetland was in sight! hang on, that's Kirkwall. Going even slower than intended. After six more hours of being thrown around and eating the Scottish take on "healthy" food, we eventually made it into Lerwick. Not the scariest crossing I've ever had, but the worse ones were on smaller, sail powered boats and there was usually an expectation that it would be horrendous.

Arriving & first impressions:

Because I was around five hours late into Lerwick, I jumped straight into a cab and headed for the Toft-Ulsta ferry terminal. (Taxi cost the best part of £50, it was a Sunday, so no buses were running). Friendly driver. Gave me the down low on Sullom-Voe oil terminal and the history of the Shetlands as we drove.

Amazingly stark contrast, on the one hand the mainland has that remarkable beuty of a bleak place, much like Dartmoor - there's nothing really to see, but somehow the featureless landscape is beautiful; on the other hand, enormous flame stacks at the oil refinery, giant wind turbines and a very utilitarian feel to all of the culture and surroundings. This felt how I imagined Oil country would, at the very least. Another, very industrial ferry and I was met on the other side by my host for the next few weeks.

The following days were mostly taken up by work, besides which the wind was an icy, North Sea gale and it was pouring with rain, day after day.

My hosts had a gorgeous old house, approximately in the middle of Yell. it seemed that people lived in one of two property types - those who lived in the old bens, "crofters" houses or the various old vicarages etc, and the greater population who lived in pre-fab houses imported from Norway. Derelict shells of bens and old manor houses littler Yell, and it is very easy to see why people move into the pre-fabs, they're far warmer and drier. The house I was in, despite being permenantly heated, was a draughty and cold affair - electric blankets and open fires were VERY welcome!

Whilst out on the road one evening, I realised for the first time that I could see the Northern Lights! My host, who was driving, said that he had heard there was a solar storm occurring and that the lights would be getting brighter over the next few days. I wasn't disappointed, the colours were amazing, although - true to the mood of the stay so far - the best lights were obscured by cloud and rain cover.

Yell is much more bleak than mainland. There are very few rocks, most of the island being composed of peat. I went for a few wet walks out of the house (wooly hat and winter gloves firmly tied into place), although once above the shoreline and away from the rock and shingle it brought, progress was extrememly slow.

The following weeks did throw up some real highlights of Yell, however. The first was the abundance of seals. In the southwest of Yell, a good cycle away from Mid Yell, there is a tombolo. One of my hosts and I went walking from the mainland and around the tombolo, to realise that there were at least 19 seals sunning themselves (it had warmed up to a temperate six or seven degrees centigrade by now) on the rocks which made up the base of the tombolo. The wind was in our face, so we crept alng the spit, keeping under the horizon, to get as close as we could. We were spotted, but got a decent look through the binoculars, although not enough time to catch a good shot on camera (I only had a point-and-shoot). More and more, on the little walks I went on from the house, I started to notice seals basking or following me curiously.

Back to the tombolo. We walked along the top of the cliff (not really high enough to warrant that, but high for the island), keeping below the horizon and being followed by a harem of seal which we watched with interest. Occasionally, we would hear the cries of the sea otters - and indeed, we eventually caught sight of a romp; a mother and three pups playing in the shallows. Now we were upwind, and were spotted even more swiftly. We sat for a half hour or so, until they became either unaware of us or no longer cared and watched them from the cliff top. walking on, we came across a number of den entrances and saw more seals, all in all a VERY productive walk!

One weekend, Rosie - my hostess (not my plus one) - took me up to hermaness to see Muckle Flugga, or "Big Rock". it is the most northern lighthoue in the British Isles, with only the Outstack rock a paltry 600m further north marking the end of the UK.

Sadly, being the middle of winter, there was very little bird life, but the views were outstanding, endless sea and amazing cliff scapes. Unst (the Hermaness reverve is on an island north of Yell) is far more rocky than Yell, and differences int he way settlers had learned to farm were very evident. All over the island, circular enclosures had been built (and subsequently disintegrated) - designed to variously protect sheep, grain and people from the bitter winds.

Rosie treated me to a bowl of Reistit Mutton soup - the salted mutton specialty. I've eaten at some very nice restaurants and some surprising food (including barbequed dog in Vietnam), but nothing has ever matched up to the satisfaction that bowl of hot, salty, meaty soup which i had in that cafe gave!

Unst also has some interesting geological features - it sits on a fault and the rock types are very different on each side. there is a point on the island, in the north, where you can look out over the fault line and feel truly insignificant.

The final highlight of my stay on the Shetlands was Up-Helly-Aa, the annual "Viking" fire festival, which i have since been told by an emeritous historian was resurrected from a tradition which most probably didn't exist. This was, however, a true spectacle and definitely something to travel up for. Every year, a Guiser Yarl is elected to run a squad, all of whom build a viking longboat and whose wives put together very authentic viking uniforms for the squad. I am reliably informed that much beer is involved!

This culminates when, what seems like most of, the population turn out for a massive parade, day of drinking (the following day is given as a public holiday) and burning of the longboat, lit by 900 blazing torches - carried by the performers who appear dressed as anything from vikings to sassy police women and 70's icons. The rest of the evening is spent at halls, where the various squads of fancy dress perfomers put on sketches, and food is cooked communally (with PLENTY more beer!). Sadly, most of the Halls are by invitation only and, having just arrived and needing to nip off for work early, I had to give most of that a miss.

Getting home:

I was very sorry to leave. Especially when gales and "very rough seas" were forecast again. Perhaps next time I come, I'll aim for the summer, so that at least the wind doesn't seem to strip the flesh from my face!

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Photos

Hermaness
Unst. Shetland

Muckle Flugga
The UK's most northern light

Seal at Yell
Seen from the Tombolo

Seals
Tombolo, Yell

The Broch in Lerwick
Cliccomon Broch

Torches
Up-Helly-aa, Lerwick, 2012

Torch Procession
Up-Helly-Aa, Lerwick 2012

Burning the Galley
Up-Helly-Aa, Lerwick 2012