Friday 6 September 2019

A romantic weekend away

The cancelled trip to celebrate Our Lass's birthday earlier in the year was re-scheduled for the end of August, which coincided with our wedding anniversary. It also coincided with 24 hours of rain, but we weren't going to let a little thing like that put us off. So, on a Friday afternoon, we pootled to Kirkwall Airport, just happy that there wasn't any thick fog to disrupt our travel plans. A member of the airline staff called the eight passengers together for the flight to North Ronaldsay, but instead of heading out onto the apron to board the plane, we were told that the aircraft was overweight, even if we left all the luggage behind. A local workman generously volunteered to make the trip another time, so the remaining seven of us were allowed to clamber into the Britten Norman Islander for the trip to Orkney's most northerly destination.

It was a pleasantly warm afternoon so, after dropping off our luggage in a room at the Bird Observatory, Our Lass and I hit the beach. Well, began walking around the rocky south west corner of the island.

The tall stems of Perennial Sow Thistle were impressive against the blue sky

Of course, the rocky shore is where to find the famous seaweed-eating sheep

Or, indeed, a small flock of them



After an evening meal, shared with other guests and the Obs staff, we ambled out to Nouster Bay to soak up the last of the light.

As mentioned earlier, Saturday was a day of heavy rain. In the morning, we visited a photographic exhibition of island history in the New Kirk, but returned drenched to the Obs for lunch and an afternoon spent each with our nose in a good book.

Sunday was a return to mainly dry weather, so another potter along the beach of Nouster Bay was called for, with only a short shower to contend with.

Before catching our plane back to the Orkney mainland, we explored some more of the west and east coasts of the island.

More sheep

Fulmars and silvery seas

Our Lass and the North Atlantic

A bit more of the North Atlantic

Golden Plover

The New Kirk in the dry. And it's not so new either

Grass of Parnassus (a suitable use of the abbreviation GoP)
The last piece of the weekend's excitement occurred when we landed on Sanday during the return flight. The plane had a puncture, so all the passengers had to disembark whilst a repair was made. The airfield staff responded magnificently, rushing out for a carton of milk to make everyone a brew and offer a choice of biscuits. Thankfully, we made it back to Kirkwall a little over an hour late.


Mark said...

Happy aniversary, you go to some exciting and remote places.

Coastal Ripples said...

You certainly live the highlife in your corner of the world. I remember the process of being weighed when we travelled to Guernsey on the little yellow trilanders. We fondly called them Joey’s. Always worried when the only pilot was a gentleman of mature years. Always looked round at the rest of the passengers to see if anyone looked a likely pilot if the real one had a heart attack! B

Imperfect and Tense said...

Thank you, folks!