Road signs in Orkney are often small, matching the roads, but some are non
existent. The one to Twatt was stolen so often, authorities gave up replacing
it. In Kirkwall we passed two notes, pinned to a building's doors punctuated
exactly as follows, "We have put smoke in this building for training purposes
some smoke may issue after we have left the building." Though many signs
attempt to explain standing stones and tombs as old as 5000 years B.C., oddly
we have found none marking the moment when chickens first arrived in the
islands.
Two coach loads of people at the Kitchener memorial, a woman in a pub who had
walked from Land's End to John O' Groats, a dermatologist we met at
breakfast...all were German. Though there is a wonderful chapel built by
Italian prisoners of war, we haven't run across a single Italian. Norwegians,
with whom the islands share much history...not one. Our current host is
passionate about Scottish independence even though Orkney was linked to an
independent Scotland for only a few hundred of its thousands of years of
history.
In nine hundred and some, after Norse people adopted Christianity, Earl
Haralds's men, some of whom had recently defected from Earl Ragnald, were
caught in a snowstorm. Harald told them that shelter was to be found inside a
small hill. Possibly treasure too. Which is how a hundred Vikings came to be
squeezed into a tomb that now accommodates twenty tourists at a pop. Today
Health and Safety is the excuse guides give when asked why no photographs are
allowed; there was once the beginning of a fight brought on by cameras. The
Vikings spent three days holed up together and left runic inscriptions, some
saying, more or less, that Erik was here or that Torsten's sexual equipment is
smaller than average, but one fellow decided to draw a beast of some sort and
another wanted record the fact that the best runic scribe west of...made these
marks with the axe of some guy who was killed in Iceland. When we passed back
out into the rain and the twenty first century I suggested to the guide that
health and safety had it wrong; rather than ban photography, it might be safer
to cram people in and give them all Viking weapons. Art might result.
Sunshine is a rare commodity on Orkney, so you'd think a day with liberal
doses of it might lift the general mood. We'd seen the Italian prisoner of war
chapel, and the narrows where the German Gunther Prien steered his submarine
through, and Scapa Flow where the Royal Oak was sunk by said German. We were
headed towards the Tomb of the Otters. We parked the car beside a man with two
lovely border collies. He was bending to slip a leash over the head of one
when across the way a man bellowed, "Get a leash on that dog."
I looked around to see if he was worried about livestock; none in view.
The first man, quite a large fellow, straightened to full height, and held up
the leash, "Don't you shout at me."
The second man took one step closer, "Don't you shout at me."
The dog owner waved the leash, "I was putting the leash on when you shouted I
should put the leash on."
The second dog ran in the direction of the ardent leash fan, who looked as if
he might kick it. The owner gave a return command, which it instantly obeyed.
Eventually the two men calmed down, which was good because the first shouter
turned out to be the owner of tomb. Since the visitable space was no larger
than a large bathtub, my wife and I were not greatly pleased to find that the
dog owner had come to visit the tomb too. "Cosy" doesn't well describe the
four of us packed into that dark underground space. Border Collie man said
he'd had his DNA tested. He as descended from Picts.
We reserved with Orkney Car Hire. I mention the name so you can avoid it.
We'd e mailed back and forth...landing at the airport at four forty
five...small car...two drivers... The Saab plane had a problem so we were
forty minutes late. No car, no arrangement for us to collect the car. Just a
message saying they were closed. The bed and breakfast people kindly came and
picked us up-no short drive. We reasoned that the car people had had some kind
of emergency. Nope. We went to pick up the car the following morning. No
apology.
"We close at five."
"Why didn't this come up in any of the e mails we exchanged? "
"We close at five."
'Why isn't this information on your website?"
"It is on our website."
It isn't.
I heard from the other god that Appenzeller has been waking the irritable
neighbor back home. She's been cockadoodledoings...Appenzeller, not the
neighbor. Research suggests it's a dominance behavior with some females. I'm
reminded of our current host, who thinks the first queen of Scotland was
Egyptian and that everyone must pay in cash because that's what she wants.
Buffet breakfast is served to the guests from ten rooms..between eight and
eight thirty.
The standing stones are marvels.
David Ritchie,
Scapa Flow------------------------------------------------------------------
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