Day 34 – The Broch of Gurness

Saturday 29th May

A couple of miles around the headland to the Broch of Gurness, the remains of what was once a sizeable Iron Age village, some 2,500 years ago.

The Pictish people lived here, in what seems a site exposed to the weather, until you realise that 500 BC the weather was 3 to 4C warmer. The last picture shows Roja emerging from a tiny cell, most likely used to house the community’s guard dogs. Most likely he still smells them. The dog’s interest centres around the Broch cat who fascinates him, simply laying in the long grass and refusing to run away.

This is the best preserved of the 12 Iron Age communities around the Eynhallow Sound.

It’s the third night I’ve spent here at the Sands of Evie car park. It’s quiet in the evenings, and used quite a bit by locals in the day. It isn’t signposted from the road, so difficult to find for tourists, and there aren’t many campervans on the road anyway.

Most of the users fit into two categories, the smaller one being women who bathe; and it’s bathe not swim. They are older, probably 55 plus, arrive in a gown, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs, walk to the water’s edge and wade in, chest deep, and stand, or walk, and chat if in pairs. Not swim. I’m told there are a local group called the Polar Bears who come every day, in all weathers.

The other type are even more interesting. The dog walkers. Why so? Because it is so uplifting to see how ecstatic the dogs are when they arrive, car after car. I’ve seen that before of course, but not in such a repetitive way, and besides, there is something about dogs and beaches, that makes them so excited, and tear around in such a crazy fashion.

At night the fishermen came. Just after 11 two Ulstermen arrived on motorcycles, as the tide grew and the light faded, on vacation from County Antrim, staying at a nearby cottage. The fine afternoon had turned to a densely misty evening. They stood in the sea for an hour or so, but returned fishless. We chatted rugby, seals and labradors. What folk will do for their passion; Ulstermen without a drink in a Saturday night.

The archipelago has a Scandinavian feel to it. More like Lufoten or the Western Islands off Iceland, like Flatey, both of which I have been lucky enough to spend time on.

I retire with a Talisker and the movie, First Cow. Toby Jones, outstanding in the scene where he receives his eminent visitor, and special cake has been made; one of those that needs watching more than once. I am lulled to sleep by the ooh-ah of the male eider duck as the tide gets closer.