A chilly morning again, with a whippy wind blowing down the bay of Burra Voe on the Isle of Yell this campervan morning. The small village of Burravoe itself sits a wee way back behind me, over the hill. The wind pushing the tide into the bay, chilling fingers and face. A varying grey blanket of cloud above my head crawls eastwards. The vaguest of moisture on the air with what appears to be the threat of something more substantial. The sounds are once more of slow lapping water, sheep and the distinctive calls of oystercatchers. A much slower day yesterday and time to take take stock before the journey on to Orkney. Eavesdropping in the cafe of the local museum on the conversation with the owner and ‘Joey’ a very elderly islander and ex whaler, talking of his childhood on the boats from the age of 14, his journeys down to South Georgia. A different era. The last full day on Shetland before leaving tomorrow night. Reflecting on not being able to do the isles justice in their beauty, nature and rawness. Their colours, geology or geography. The Scottish poet Jackie Kay wrote :
“ Some men fall in love with a woman, Some women fall in love with a man, Some men fall in love with another man, Some women fall in love with another woman - But I, my dear one, fell in love with Shetland.”
It has been one of those experiences. Though to be fair 8 days is no where near enough. Lovely days people.
“ And when in storms we founder, We, too, may leave behind Some broken bits of flotsam For other men to find”. Vagaland.
Taken from ‘ Sea Bean’ by Sara Huband.
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