bench seat

Another fine day for working outside - not having anywhere undercover with room to work makes for a weather-dependent schedule. All the same, the sun was shining today so the tools came out, the new assistant was distracted into digging in the garden instead of howling at the gate and I pushed on with the woodwork.

Charlie the Fox Terrier - not an ideal workmate....

Today's plan was to get the framework in place for the bench that'll run the rest of the way along the driver's side of the van. A lot of metal brackets on the corners substituted for my inability to do fancy joinery but the result is solid and square. With a sheet of plywood on top, it's strong enough to be slept on or indeed stood on without a creak or a wobble, and that's what I was looking for! The next stage will be to fix hinges to the plywood and put in some simple interior dividers to help keep the contents of the locker in place while I'm driving - I envisage this as being the main storage for heavy and bulky items that don't need to be hauled in and out too often, like a selection of tinned food/soup for emergency use, the tents, spare bedding, camping gear, etc. Charlie's crate fits under the front end next to the framework, next to the whippet crate, although he prefers by far to sleep in my sleeping bag with me.



Back in the groove!

After a long pause for a holiday down south with family, I'm back! And the work of converting the Kite Wagon has really got underway, not without some tension. After furious work with the tape measure and graph paper, the plan for the interior has been completed and the first section of the woodwork has been done. It's a shaky start since I can't use a spirit level to check my verticals - the van's parked on a slope!! Not all the interior angles are right angles, to add to the fun, so the initial piece - the corner-table over the whippet's crate - had to be put together somewhat by eye, which would probably be a lot easier for a more experienced carpenter but it's there, it's solid and it's done! From here on I'm hoping the speed and quality of my work will improve....

Train Trekking

Having left the Kite Wagon parked in the old station yard in Maud, safely out of the way of everyone (I hope) for a few days, this morning was a dash into Aberdeen to catch the train south. We changed at York and again in Manchester Piccadilly – the old station hasn’t changed a bit since I last saw it quarter of a century ago! – and then on down to Hereford. It’s interesting watching the scenery change, the seasons shooting forward as we go south, and it’s also encouraging to see how many wild bunnies are around the countryside – everywhere. When I get my whippet pup later this year and hopefully a smooth-haired terrier as well, we will at least have lots of furry food to aim for!

At Rest and Tidying Up

Having parked up in Maud and got a good night’s sleep under our belt, today was about emptying the Kite Wagon out completely, storing everything away as tidily as possible and getting ready for the long train trek tomorrow, back south to collect the car. All washing was done and sheepskins/cowhide aired in the sun before being folded up in the dry for a while – after I get back with the car I have to see about fixing the few holes we’ve discovered in the back of the wagon, then arranging to get her insulated, windows fitted and lining installed. After that, I’ll set to work building the furniture and getting her properly set up as a home-on-wheels. All in all, a quiet day for recuperating and planning.

Stromness, Scotland and Hairpins!

We were up early fofr a weather check (look out of window, sea flat calm with ripples; excellent) and then brewed some hot chocolate for our morning drink rather than tea. This was because the previous night’s Horlicks had left us with a mix of water and milk in the teapot which needed to be used up before we could brew tea! Once this minor problem had been disposed off, we stowed everything securely for sea, dismantling the gas stove and tying everything down with bungess safely. The diesel in the jerrycans was decanted into the main tank, bringing us up to ¾ of a tank.

The ferry terminal in Stromness was rather boring, with only a tea/coffee machien for refreshments, so having wandered slowly about inside it for a while, we headed off to investigate the town of Stromness. It has narrow streets, paved in the ubiquitous flags but with a narrow strip of cobbles inset – possibly for grip, or so a local woman implied after Anny successfully fell over on the main street again! This time the damage was minor and lacking in bloodshed, so having achieved verticality again we proceeded with more caution for a while.

Stromness soon proved not to be fascinating, however, and we turned back to the ferry terminal to get the Kite Wagon booked in. This time, for variety, we drove forwards into the ferry (a much bigger vessel than the last) and then swung around to park up facing the stern. From there it was up to the passenger decks and a search for a good window to park ourselves by, in case of seasickness. A kindly steward advised that the best place was aft behind the reception desk so we found a good window and having dumped our bags, I left Anny guarding them and raided the café for breakfast. A bacon roll with extra egg and a mug of hot chocolate having been acquired and scoffed, I returned to the port side window and readied the phone to do photos of Hoy in passing.

The Pentland Firth turned out to be in the mood of a placid millpond, barely managing even a visible swell let alone anything perceptible. We docked without problem in Scrabster, reclaimed the Kite Wagon and headed out in search of the A9 south.

We’d agreed that our original plan – sleeping at one of the higher car parks on Cairngorm for a night – would turn out to be a cold option, so we changed our minds and decided to go for a slow reintroduction to civilisation by going straight to Maud  and journey’s end. This would also enable us to do the washing and shower!  Having decided this we set off down the A9, only to find that just after Latheronwheel and before Helmsdale, the road entered a series of h9orrendous steep hairpin bends that weren’t marked on the map! It was quite exciting to be heading apparently directly at the North Sea, visible over a few-hundred-foot cliff, only to then whisk around and be heading at 180 degrees in the opposite direction within yards. Signs saying ‘check your brakes now’ and ‘stay in low gear’ did not induce great confidence, either.

Once past all this hair-raising stuff, however, we parked up for a steadying cup of tea and some food, it being about lunchtime, and called ahead to warn that we were on the way early. Assured of a bed and dinner, we pushed on south, achieving a fine run all the way to Maud with still ¼ of a tank in hand and just about 1,300 miles on the tank since I bought the wagon exactly 14 days before!

Alas, last day on Orkney!

Leaving our overnight berth tucked behind the old WWII emplacement on top of the cliffs, we headed north to Skara Brae. Here the staff were just opening up as we arrived and we wandered slowly around the indoor display before exploring the reconstructed house just outside the centre. We agreed that probably no self-respecting Neolith would have kept live lobsters on top of their dresser, even one made of stone, but otherwise there was plenty of headroom under the high domed roof, the smoke-vent let in a good degree of light and there was as much storage space in the house as in most places, with comfortable-looking box-beds which could have accomodated generous bedding allowances of bracken, heather or dry grass rather than merely having a few deer and shep skins draped forlornly over them. With the big central hearth, we felt the house was probably quite snug and warm even in the Orkney winds – the tunnel that linked the house to the rest of the village being insulated nicely under a thick layer of refuse, seashells and assorted midden contents for that purpose.

Outside the reconstruction, we walked unhurriedly along the path, admiring a wide sandy beach that curved beautifully before a marvellously blue-and-green sea, finally reaching the enclosure where the genuine village is preserved. A kind lady there was armed with a brush and a bucket of water for cleaning seabird guano off the paths, but explained that the pair of fulmars nesting on the roof of hut 1 have been friends for 14 years and are now mates. They make a habit, apparently, of landing inside the hut and then not being able to get out again, but recently a workman carefully herded them through the door and along the corridor, thus showing the birds the correct exit procedure, and now they remove themselves from the hut without assistance.

The huts are fairly small, perhaps twenty feet across, but provide all the basics of civilisation; beds, hearths, storage facilities, a place to display one’s treasures on a stone dresser facing the door and the neighbours (perhaps close kin?) living next door along the corridor. One hut even appeared to have a granny-flat annexe to the main building! Apparently the midden was laid down first and only when it had accumulated sufficient depth and density was the village tunnelled into it and the individual rooms built in the typical flat, nicely-laid flagstone architecture of the Orkneys.

Having completed our slow perambulation, we headed back to the visitor centre and breakfast; Earl Grey tea and the local cheese board for me, scone and jam for Anny. We followed the good food with a tour of the gift shop (naturally) and then enquired about refilling the water tank, which had just provided us with our morning tea before running empty on us. The kitchen staff kindly shoved our 10L tank under their tap and even apologised for not knowing how to work the complicated sealing arrangements!

With everything now at hand and no need to be anywhere before the ferry terminal tomorrow, we decided that a lazy afternoon on a beach somewhere would be good. We ran down to Stromness, getting a feel for the ferry terminal’s position, then on over the hill to a little carpark at the end of a narrow lane with a lovely view over Pulse Skerry to the Atlantic, Hoy and Hoy Sound to the south. We spent the afternoon unwinding in warm sunshine, buzzed gently by a variety of seabirds and visited by various dogs and their walkers, as well as the antics of the local sea-kayaking group practising emergency drills off the beach.

We decided to follow up last night’s limpet deluxe with crispy fried nettles to accompany a ham-and-cheese scrambled egg dish, which all turned out to be delicious. More glorious sunsets ensured in due course, captured on the phone (pics later!) and we settled down for our last night on Orkney. Alas!

The Rings

(Post should have been 28th but no phone signal to post!)
Today began with groans and moans as yesterday's bruises took their toll on Anny's back and legs, but the application of a heat pad overnight was declared to have been a great help and the application of tea, heat and breakfast helped greatly. We headed for Maes Howe for the second attempt, arriving safely as before and parking with great deliberation, extremely close to the kerb, with the aim of foiling any attempt on Anny's part to trip over again. I stood close at hand and prepared to catch any staggers but in fact this time the disembarkation process proceeded flawlessly and we made it inside safely to be greeted by anxious staff. Having satisfied themselves that Anny was in fact recovered and healthy, we were ushered into an excellent tour of Maes Howe.
The chamber itself was fascinating and it was a pity (but understandable) that all access has to be by guided tour. I would have enjoyed ferreting into the side chambers and reading all the runic graffitti in peace but it was not to be. Interestingly both Anny and I felt that the place was not a tomb at all but an initiation space, since it felt so very different from the Tomb of the Eagles and Banks Chambered Cairn, neither of which had provided any kind of echo or reverberation when we were in them while Maes Howe provided excellent echo space and, of course, has the three internal chambers to be shut up individually and the famous light-box for midwinter sunrise.
Maes Howe completed, we checked a few directions with a compass to confirm what we felt about the landscape alignments (such as where the sun would rise and set behind various hills) and then set off to investigate the Stones of Stenness, which were visible from Maes Howe quite easily (as indeed was the Ring of Brodgar). The Stones turned out to have a very fine wide layby so we had a pot of tea.
Thus fortified, we sallied forth into the field to investigate the Stones of Stenness, a fine tall monument of five standing stones (surviving) and a pair of slim pillars with a fallen slab of a dolmen next to them.We paced both ways around the circle individually, both of us finding that we were drawn to enter the circle at the same place (which turned out to be the 'correct' entrance spot according to the archeology/interpretation boards at the entrance when we checked later). Standing on the dolmen and looking through the gap between the two uprights by it gave a view of Maes Howe, which was interesting as these two monuments were in use at the same time (c.7,000 years ago).
Having pranced about the Stones for a while, we investigated the village a couple of hundred yards away which was also in use at the same time as the Stones. This turned out to be fascinating as we both immediately felt sure it was a 'ceremonial' settlement rather than a normal everyday village, where the population were perhaps serving a period looking after the Stones. One building in particular was very definitely used, we felt, by groups of people, as it had an outer wall which enclosed an inner building. The outer area felt watery, with a covered drain in one corner, a wider section that felt like a seating area and lots of moss and soft ground underfoot. It felt like a place for ablutions. Proceeding around this space, one came to the diametrically opposite entrance to the inner area, which had a low doorway section and then a hearth set in the doorway of an inner room, which had another very large hearth in its centre and low walls that proved ideal for sitting on while, perhaps, story-telling, feasting or other communal activities in a wall, enclosed (perhaps sauna-like?) atmosphere. There was also a small drain in the corner that led out into the covered drain we'd noticed outside, so providing indoor sanitation as well!
After this, we had a look at the Watchstone at the end of the bridge to the Ness of Brodgar, a narrow space of water separating south-west to north-east land between the Lochs of Harray and Stenness. it was a very imposing guardian of the crossing point and an offering of three red-skinned potatoes, a neep, a bulb of garlic and a carrot lay tidily at its foot, which was fascinating.
We retired to the Kite Wagon and proceeded across the Ness of Brodgar to the car park at the Ring of Brodgar, the younger and much bigger ring of standing stones on a slight hill above the lochs and all of perhaps a hundred yards from the Stones of Stenness. They also had many fascinating aspects and we took several photos and a number of compass bearings before retiring to the Wagon to lunch, drink tea and rest fevered brows and over-worked brains for a time.
Deciding that doing Skara Brae on the same day was too much, we drove to a marvellous clifftop WWII ex-gun post on the western coast named Yesnaby and collapsed to rest. A short walk gave us a fine set of views of the coast, some sunning seals, lots of seabird roosts and, on the way back, a pocketful of limpets hammered off the rocks with a pebble. We boiled them briefly in butter and Raven beer (a fine Orcadian brew) before consuming them with bread and butter. It was a very fine end to a magnificent day!