Safe Return Doubtful

I’ve just spent a pleasant few days at Uyeasound, a naturally sheltered harbour on the south east coast of Unst. The van has been parked up on the pier, just opposite a French cafe and an old shop, but the shop closed down in 1678.

The ruin of a building once occupied by the shop, Greenwell’s Booth, is the oldest building in Unst, and was a trading post between the 12th and 17th centuries.

The French cafe operates without staff on an honesty basis, selling pates, crackers, cassoulet and snacks, as well as hot and cold drinks. There have been a few honesty cake fridges around, but this is the grandest of the lot. Despite the TV series, it seems Shetland is so untouched by crime that even the cash drawer can be left open.

There is also a Youth Hostel close by which offers camping and four electric hook-up pitches for vans and motorhomes. I was there for three nights, and only two other vans came along. A few locals and visitors came to use the cafe, and if they had dogs, which many did, we chatted with them.

On the first day we hiked down the coast south to the island’s far southeast corner, about four miles. I’m not a lot further south than the day we spent at the abandoned village of Framborg, and Easting beach. This less rugged coastline attracts more otters, and there were plenty, most choosing to scarper when they got a whiff of Roja, but a few tough ones remained to stare him out. The strong wind of the last days had gone also, and in the calmer waters often seals were lounging the morning away.

This house on the water’s edge is partly renovated. The glass front is an attractive prospect when a storm arrives..

This was a fine spell of weather, particularly the second day when we drove the few miles across to Lund Beach, and St Olaf’s Kirk, a ruined chapel. Here are the remains of a medieval church, and a burial ground with several stone crosses of the day. The church was built in the twelfth century and used until 1785. At present, the interior is closed off for safety reasons. Indeed, it does look like it’s about to fall down.

Lund Beach is my new favourite. It’s a fantastic half mile of golden sand with surrounded by hills and cliffs with splendid views out to a selection of tiny islands of bare rock. It is little visited, as it’s necessary to open and close three gates on the road across to it. Many opt not to bother, too much hard work.

I got talking to the gravedigger, who was also there to mow the grass, as well as preparing one grave. He was from Kent, and had retired, passed the job to his daughter and new partner, but he cursed them for being lazy. Taking to him in more detail, it was clear they didn’t like the grave-digging side of the role, between them, they had only done one, last winter, and a sleepless night afterwards had led to some mental issues. The guy I was chatting to just blamed the work ethos of the young.

This morning dawned as one of those Shetland days I had always thought of as very common, yet hadn’t experienced yet, a thick drizzly mist with visibility of about 10 metres. I’ve mentioned before, but the last time I was in Shetland, a brief passing through, was on route from the Faroes in the days the ferry used to call in here. The boat had left me at Tórshavn for 5 days and throughout that time the islands were in this sort of thick mist. I saw very little.

We moved on, taking the ferry south to Yell, and then meandering down the east coast. A few weeks ago we came up the west coast. After a stop at the Aywick shop, more like a department store in terms of what it stocks, we called in at a couple of potential destinations, Vatsetter and Osterwick, before settling down at the pier at Burravoe.