Unst

Sunday 14/8/11

Unst is one of my favourite places in the world. You can't get any further north in the UK. There are a couple of rocks further north (Muckle Flugga and Out Stack), but this is the last place that can actually be called a place. Last time I was here, I found it difficult to tear myself away and spent about half of my time on Shetland time here. This time I've left it till last so I had something to look forward to and so I did get to see other places too.

I've been here a couple of days already. The first day was spent doing admin-y type things - finding internet access to book my train tickets for the GGW, sending emails, getting petrol, doing a stock-take of my food and working out what I needed to buy for the GGW, and so on. Yesterday was really stormy. Force 7 winds and rain lashing down until the evening. No-one could really go anywhere, including all the canoeists who are up here for the weekend. We all sat around the hostel watching the waves crash against the shoreline and the tents flap madly in the wind. Once again my little Vango survived brilliantly. There was a similar storm when I was here last year and other people's much more expensive tents were tearing and had poles snapping. Mine flaps away, but survives without the tiniest shred of a tear or hairline crack of a pole.

This morning was beautiful. As predicted the storm had blown itself out. After breakfast I drove out to Hermaness. This is a nature reserve at the end of the end of the UK. There is a car parking area and a small visitor centre with toilets. This area is known for its birds as well its dramatic views. Because of the birds visitors are requested to stay on the paths and not wander freely across the moorland tops. As it is very, very  boggy it's much easier to stay on the paths anyway. I walked about 30 minutes uphill and then across moorland to the cliffs. Once at the cliffs most people head east to see the puffin colony and Muckle Flugga. As I like to be a bit contrary I walked west. Just a few minutes to the west, where hardly anyone goes, is the most amazing gannet colony. I discovered this last year and wanted to go back this year. The dark cliffs look white, they are that stuffed with gannets. The air is full of gannets; the sea is full of bobbing gannets. The noise, the smell, is just pure gannet. Most of my senses felt completetly overwhelmed by it. 

Only after having my fill of gannets did I walk east. I didn't see any puffins this year, though I'd probably only just missed them. Last year, I was here a few days earlier and there were puffins everywhere. I'd sat for ages with puffins popping up out of the ground or zooming in to land all around me. I walked further east along the cliffs until I was level with Muckle Flugga. I have to learn to kayak properly so I can actually get there. There were a dozen canoeists on the water today and I watched for a while to see if they would go to Muckle Flugga, but they just seemed to be sticking to the coast.

Leaving the cliffs I headed up and across the moors again on another path that joined with the original path to drop down to the car park. I finished my day out by going to the chocolate factory for a deluxe experience. A hot chocolate with whipped cream, marshmallows and a chocolate lattice; three Abernathy biscuits partly dipped in dark, milk and white chocolate; two filled chocolates, one dark and one white; and three squares of solid milk, dark and white chocolate. How ideal is this island? It's isolated, friendly, relaxing, has great wildlife and views AND has its own brewery and chocolate factory. Can you see why it's one of my favourite places?

Spirit Dancer

The Out Skerries are 3 small islands to the north west of the Shetland Mainland. Two of the islands, which are joined by a very short bridge, are inhabited by approximately 70 people. The third is slightly further away and currently uninhabited.

I arrived in Skerries (as it's known here) on Saturday afternoon following a one and a half hour ferry journey from the northern end of Mainland. A quick drive around showed just how small these islands really are, as I'd no sooner set off when I came to the end of the road. Turn around, go the other way, same thing.

I wandered into a building that seemed to have a lot of people coming and going from it. As I peered through the glass in a door I could see a kitchen and several women bustling about preparing salads and kebabs. They waved me in and I asked about camping on the island. Basically anywhere would be ok, but by the pier could be good as there are toilets and showers there. Or I could camp by this building, which was the community centre, as they had a group of Canadian canoeists staying there and so the building would be open if I needed to get in for the toilets. The food they were preparing was for a barbecue in honour of the canoeists and I was invited.

I set up camp by the pier and just after 6pm returned to the community centre for the barbecue. Just about all of the inhabitants were there plus various weekend guests. The canoeists had a long 18 seater canoe based on native Canadian designs. Chris Cooper, his wife and a few others had brought the canoe to the UK and were spending a few summers taking it around different communities and trying to get as many people out on the water as possible. They'd had everyone from babies to 90 year olds on board.

The food was wonderful, the bar was open, the company was welcoming. After the barbecue we moved indoors to watch a slideshow, and Chris presented a specially made paddle to the community. Then the fiddles and accordians came out and the music and dancing started.

As it began to go dark the canoeists said they would need to move their canoe from the small harbour near the community centre round to the ferry pier ready for it to be loaded on to the ferry next morning so it could begin its journey to its next destination. Did anyone want to help? Of course they had plenty of offers, one of them being mine. We made our way down to the canoe, put on life jackets and slotted ourselves into position. After a quick lesson on how to paddle we were off. We closely skirted a fish farm and passed under the bridge. All too soon we were at the ferry pier. As it was getting late and I was by my tent I decided to call it a night. It had been a great evening and I loved what was essentially canoeing home from the pub.

I really have to learn to canoe or kayak and get myself one.




 http://www.spiritdancercanoejourneys.ca/

Muckle Flugga

I've just been catching up on Alastair Humphreys' blog and see he cycled the length of Shetland recently and finished up by camping at Hermaness on the north coast of Unst. Unst is the most northerly island in Britain (not counting 2 lumps of rock, one of which is Muckle Flugga). 

I found myself there last summer - I actually should have been in Iran, but that's a whole other story - and fulfilled (kind of) an ambition by seeing Muckle Flugga. I've always been fascinated with it ever since I first heard the name on the shipping forecast. It's basically a rock with a now un-manned lighthouse on it. But it's a far away rock with a funny sounding name and those are two things that always appeal to me. I liked it so much when I finally saw it that I ended up seeing it three times. 

The first was when I walked along the Hermaness cliffs which are fascinating enough in themselves because of their huge gannet colony and puffins. Then I went on a boat trip around Muckle Flugga and got a close up view of it. On my last day in Unst I climbed up Saxa Vord which has a military radar station sat on its top. 

I felt very intrepid as I ignored signs warning me of snow and ice. I felt very adventurous as I next ignored signs warning me that I would be arrested under the official secrets act if I went any further. I felt very heroic as I ignored signs at the top that warned me I would be irradiated if I got any closer. (I'd actually been told by locals that it was fine to ignore the signs and everyone does). I'd gone up partly because I wanted to have the experience of ignoring all those signs and partly because it has great views of Muckle Flugga. At the top I ran into the guard who goes up once a day to check on the place. He didn't arrest me, just told me where to go to get the best views and advised me not to get too close to the radar bits that really do have radiation in them. 

So I've seen plenty of Muckle Flugga and that should have been that ambition fulfilled. But at the hostel I met a few kayakers, two of whom had actually paddled out to the rock, landed and climbed up to the lighthouse. This is not allowed but, as I found with Saxa Vord, no-one seems to bother with things like 'not being allowed' in Unst. I was jealous and so decided that I have to learn to kayak so I can also land on Muckle Flugga. The sea is pretty rough so it's not just a case of learning the basics and going for it - I also have to get good at it. But this is why I have learning to canoe/kayak on my list of things to do.  

I'm going to go back to Shetland this summer after I have walked the Great Glen Way. I'll go back to Unst and gaze at Muckle Flugga from afar again. As I've done nothing about learning to kayak this year that will be the most I can do. But one year I will definitely paddle to it, climb the steps and touch those lighthouse walls.