Shapinsay

Shapinsay is a small island of about 300 people, 25 minutes away from Kirkwall by ferry. It seems to be quite a desirable place to live; I’ve met many in Kirkwall who lived their entire working life on Shapinsay and only moved to Kirkwall when they got older (shopping, doctors, hospital, etc). It also has a castle and a 2-hour walking trail. It has several ferries throughout the day leaving from Kirkwall harbour.

So, I woke up yesterday to sunshine and thought, why not head over to Shapinsay for a few hours to check it out. Walk the trail, enjoy the weather, and then head home. I looked it up: I could take the 11:30 ferry there, catch the 3:15 home. All for only £4.24. I did have a few things I wanted to get done in the morning, but if I focus, I really can get a lot done in quite a short time frame. So I tidied, vacuumed, started a stew in the crockpot, loaded the dishwasher, and roasted some vegetables. Then suddenly it was 11:00 and we had to hustle.

You see, I wanted to walk to the ferry. To walk from my house somehow felt more island-y (it’s hard to explain, I guess because I’ve never really lived near water, the idea of popping over on a ferry I’ve just walked onto appeals. I dunno). But we were cutting it fine – where had all the time gone, granted I’d managed to get a lot done, but still? We walked briskly to the Ferry office in the harbour, ordered my ticket (the clerk said, “oh, you’re a local” as she keyed in my purchase and found my account; I felt so proud), then quickly hoofed it over to the Shapinsay pier. Except there was no boat. I could see other ferries, in other parts of the harbour, but the Shapinsay sign clearly pointed to this pier. Had the loading area moved? Did I have time to walk back to the office and ask the girl? I checked my watch: it was 10:20. Yes, twenty past ten. Not eleven. I was an hour early for the damned ferry. No wonder I was surprised earlier in the day, I had accomplished all of that housework and cooking by 9:55. Well, nuts. Now what? Walk the 15 minutes back home, sit around for 30 minutes, then walk 15 minutes back down? No, that seemed daft; I headed over to a coffee shop and made a bloody expensive flat white last as long as I could.

Then across the road and onboard the ferry. The young lady had told me she was emailing me my ticket and I would show it and pay onboard, so I wouldn’t need paper. But I looked – no email. Now what? The boat had already left the pier – was I going to be kicked off in Shapinsay? Was this like the GO train where they publicly shame you? I tried to explain to the ticket taker (are they called conductors on a boat? that seems wrong) who didn’t understand what I was talking about and said, “just tap your card here, luv”. And then off he walked. Okay. That was simple.

A lovely half-hour ride to Shapinsay across the Wide Firth. We walked off, and I headed along the road to where my guide book had said the path would start. I saw the castle, but there were signs everywhere warning you away from the field, as there were cows with their calves. So now what? How do I follow the trail if the field is closed off? And it was full of big cows. With horns. I took a picture of the castle, then we turned back and headed around the harbour the other way. After 10 minutes walking we’d come to the end of the houses. Again, now what? I had thought we’d stay until the 3:15 ferry, but it was 12:20, and I’d seen everything I really wanted to, if we couldn’t follow the walking trail.

I could see the ferry was still at the pier, but couldn’t access wifi – why hadn’t I downloaded the ferry timetable? We turned back and walked to the pier. There I was able to check the website – the ferry wasn’t leaving for another hour – yes, another hour-long wait for the ferry. Twice in one day. So we went and sat on a picnic table on the grass about 25 metres away. Scout was getting a little twitchy, then I realized, the minute we had stopped moving these weird, smaller than house flies but bigger than midgies, flies were all around our heads.

So we headed back to the pier, away from the grass and into the sea breeze, and she lay on the cement and I perched on a bollard, and the only thing flying around us was a pair of sand martins. And we waited.

The ferry left at 1:30; we were back in Kirkwall by 2pm, and, frustrated and ravenous (oh, had I mentioned? The guide book and the Orkney website both showed a place to eat on Shapinsay – well, okay, but I never found it), so we did the obvious: headed to the Kirkwall Hotel where I ordered a large wine for me, a bowl of water for Scout, and a veggie wrap with chips (everything comes with chips – at my parents’ pub in England in the 80’s, they served lasagne with chips, chili with chips, and quiche with chips). And that was that – home to unload the dishwasher.

So not my most successful day in Orkney. Ah well, it was a nice day for a sail.

Thou shalt not pass: Hielan’ Coos

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