Safe Return Doubtful

The ferry over to Fetlar takes half an hour. They run twice a day from Unst, and also from Yell at this time of year. There was one other car on the boat I was on, a family going over just for the day. With a big smile, the ferryman came over to collect the money, but with a big smile on his face, as the news he had for me, was that his ticket machine was not working, and therefore he couldn’t charge me. He was from Kendal originally, and another ferryman who has plans to convert a van to a camper, so keen for a look around mine.

I had researched Fetlar island, the main road from west to east is about 10 miles, to get an idea of its size. Before getting to the beach, I toured the island quickly, to see if there was anywhere else, similarly attractive, to stay. The island’s population is 67, the lady in the shop told me, and was 68 last Thursday. Sadly there had been a death, and with an ageing population it might be a while until this population trend is reversed. Very few are Shetlanders from, just 5. The rest have moved up from England. Parked up at Tresta beach I met a few of the local people during the day, all very friendly.

Tresta Beach is a fine place to be based, and I expect I will be here for a few days. There are no other campervans on the island, indeed few other visitors.

Though between the beach and the loch there is a football stadium..

Later in the afternoon on the beach I met the couple from Durham who were hiking the Shetland coastline, that I had met previously at Sandwick a couple of weeks ago. They had endured some tough days with weather, and also parts of the coast, like Fetlar, where generally there isn’t a path, and the wild moorland is boggy and deep in heather.

A yacht had come into the bay late on Saturday night, and on Sunday morning it was followed by several of the Tall Ships, on their way from Baltasound on Saturday evening, to Cullivoe on Monday. They just wanted somewhere calm to relax on a sunny Sunday. I had set off to walk onto the peninsula of Lamb Hoga earlier, and was on the cliffs returning when they sailed into the bay. Though there was a track for the first half of the 3 miles or so, the second half is wet and deep in Heather, very slow going. It is also home to quite a few Great Skua’s, or Bonxies, and it wasn’t long before Roja and I were again being dive-bombed. This time Roja did get offended at how close they came. It seems he recognises them now, and has worked out he is safest by being very close to my right leg. Less good for me though.

Back on the beach I got chatting to a Finnish guy from the Swan, the first Tall Ship into the bay. He was a business lawyer in Turku. During the afternoon most of the crew came to shore to swim, share a drink, or just chat and chill out. Their presence attracted a few locals down also, and the place which is normally so quiet, was relatively busy.. well, ten or twenty people around.

Books wise, I haven’t reported for a while. The highlights of my reading in the last week or so have been a second English translation, from Finnish, by Rosa Liksom called The Colonel’s Wife. She writes about the Second World War, her first book, Compartment Number Six, set on a Trans-Siberian train, and was adapted recently for a film, but her second is even better.

Also, the Argentinian author, César Aira’s new book, Fulgentius. This is a jaunt into ancient history, as he writes about an aging Roman general, tempted out of retirement back to the battlefield. He just happens to be a playwright with a cult following. At the age of 12 he wrote a tragedy that anticipated his own future. He resolves to put on a presentation of his new production in each new territory he conquers, with the actors from his armies. Of course he takes some criticism, but at his stage of life he has developed a skin thick enough not to be concerned. Aira is wonderful, and this is no exception.