An interesting fact: in Shetland, peerie means small. In Orkney, they say peedie. They are very clear about this.
Six in the morning comes very early. As we had to be at breakfast by 7 to make sure we were ready for our tour guide, Graham, at 9, we couldn't afford to be late. Two Scottish breakfasts (Mum and I) and a bowl and a half of porridge (Dad) we managed to make it downstairs within minutes of 9am.
Let me start by saying Graham is a lovely person. He used to teach at the secondary school in Kirkwall and is full of history as a native Orcadian. This pleased the teacher in Mum and me. He also has a very comfortable van to travel about in!
Today the focus was mostly on the south of Orkney. We made it all the way down to the bottom of South Ronaldsay, across a few islands, and even the top of the hill overlooking Kirkwall. Our first stop though was to the Italian chapel, which Dad was keen to go into.
For those of you unaware, Italian prisoners of war during WWII built the chapel out of two Nissen huts and whatever they could scrounge from sunken ships or trash, like meat cans. Even the baptismal font is made out of the spring from a military truck. Everything is painted to look like it's brick, but it was done so professionally, they have a sign telling you not to touch the walls to check as so many people were doing it.
Some of the prisoners were trained artists, so when they found some glass, they painted one side, but in such a way, and so thinly, that unless you're up really close to it, you won't know it's not stained glass. No I didn't touch anything. I wanted to, but resisted my inner toddler.
Graham gave us the history of everything inside, then showed us the statue outside which is of St. George slaying the dragon. Mum immediately jumped in about him being patron the patron saint of England, but we learned today he was also the patron saint of soldiers. Dad likes the second story better.
We drove over all four Churchill Barriers and played spot the sunken ships in Scapa Flow, getting our fill of Orkney's military history. Don't worry Kevin, we got you some things to read for when we get back. My brother is really into WWII history having interviewed many veterans back in the day so he'll be terribly jealous about this morning's travels.
Traveling back from the southern most island of Orkney, we went through the village St Margaret's Hope, which has to be the proudest little village I've ever seen. I don't think residents are allowed to have a blade of grass out of place. On a side note, our tour guide's mum was born there.
Lunch was in the middle of nowhere. In this middle of nowhere is The Kirk Cafe which is not only a cafe but an artist's shop and studio. What does this artist specialize in? Jewelry.
I may have bought the second on from the right. I might also be wearing it right now. No, I don't feel guilty about the needless expense. Okay, needless isn't the right word, because, apparently, I needed a new necklace.
Lunch was perfectly adapted for Mum and Dad. Dad's meal was both yummy and caused no difficulty, and Mum's was loaded with vegetables so her blood sugar, and her doctor, would be happy. Also, it was made with lamb from North Ronaldsay, where the sheep there eat a strictly seaweed diet. Me, I had a grilled cheese. That may sound simple but you didn't see the epicness of this grilled cheese. Sadly, I didn't take a picture of the epic grilled cheese, so I'll distract you with one of Mum and Dad at the cafe.
On the drive back into Kirkwall we accomplished something we failed to do during our entire Highland tour last year: see a Highland cow. We had to come all the way to Orkney to see a hairy coo. (No I did not spell cow incorrectly.) Dad was pleased as he had never seen one, but I had a near run in with one at Glamis Castle 25 years ago so I was happy this hairy coo was on the other side of the fence and not say, about five feet in front of me as I rounded a corner.
In Kirkwall was the St Magnus Cathedral, which means it is a very large church in the middle of not so big town. Dad was keen on seeing this one because it's only 4 years younger than St. Margaret's Chapel, which is the oldest building in Scotland, and one that truly affected him the first time he was in Scotland.
We learned about the bones of St. Magnus and how they were missed by Henry VIII's reformation zealots. Wow, Henry VIII failed at something. I'm so shocked and by shocked I mean not surprised in the least. The man may be England's most famous king, but he didn't really succeed at a lot of things besides getting married like he was Elizabeth Taylor.
Anyway, the bones are in a pillar in the cathedral, and archeologists know it's him because he has one massive head wound that correlates with all the tales of the saint's gruesome murder. Graham gave us a quiz on what we thought St. Magnus would've looked like, and between Mum and I, we came up with a bearded blonde, with blue eyes, and probably wearing red. I guess we've watched too many British archeological shows as what we described exactly matched the computer-generated likeness created by the experts. A gold star for Mum and me.
Also buried in the graveyard, with an effigy in the cathedral, is John Rae, who is a famous Orcadian who found out what happened to the Franklin Expedition -- and got trashed by Franklin's wife and Charles Dickens for reporting what turned out to be the fairly disgusting truth of what the men did when they were starving. I'll spare the details.
This fascinated my Mum because her great-great grandfather was on the ship that last saw the Franklin Expedition before it disappeared into history. As we all know, Mum loves everything that can be related back to family history.
Since Graham spent the day enlightening us, Mum and I brought out our teacher side and explained a few things about Rae's effigy that he didn't know, because Canadian Indigenous history isn't taught in Scotland. We recognized some of the symbolism of how he was dressed. We are such history nerds.
After all our walking today we were happy to take a drive to see a Rendall Doocot, which is essentially a really rich person's pigeon trap, but it's a rather large, and very architectural structure for such a simple purpose. If you know Dad, you know he loves architecture, the craftsmanship that went into old buildings, and decorative masonry (though he also loves Masonic tradition, but that's not relevant here) so he enjoyed getting to see a variety of humanity's ingenuity in creating beautiful buildings, even if it is just to catch pigeons.
We made it back to the Kirkwall just in time for me to pick up something I'd ordered at a local store mere minutes before it closed. Ever been sure you packed something only to fly to another continent and discover you didn't? Yeah, I did that. Graham knew the nearest alleyway to park by so that the store was literally the first door to my left. I was impressed how close he got me without parking in front of the actual store, which I'm not so sure would be permitted. "You paid for local knowledge," Graham quipped. True. Totally true.
Back at the hotel we went for dinner but since Dad walked farther than he's walked in probably the last couple of years, he was desperately in need of coffee.
For the second night in a row, Dad scraped his plate (and thank you to the chefs for making all necessary adaptations). Not only is he walking more this trip, but he's eating more too, which makes Mum very happy.
Finally, I have to show off my new purchase, which can be seen in the following picture:
Important Stats:
Horses: 15 and a half
Shetland ponies: 1 (hence the half)
Highland Cattle: 2
Short-eared Owl: 1
Hares: 2 (one probably became lunch for the owl)
Cattle: 50000 (that number may be accurate)
Sheep 150000
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