Hoy

The ferry to Hoy went from Stromness at the other end of the main island and the bus driver was happy to take my bike on board, me being weary of unnecessary cycling but expecting to need my bike to get across Hoy. I didn’t expect to meet anyone else going there just to get to the Old Man of Hoy.

The Tourist Information staff in both Kirkwall and Stromness had no information on local climbing guides, but as I boarded the ferry one of them rushed onto the ferry with the business card of the local climbing guide. Alas he did not answer my repeated calls, text messages or emails that day or the following and I had no information on other local guides.

 

I was surprised to find a dozen or so tourists on board the ferry including four other cyclists with their bikes all of whom were also heading for the other side of the island too. Also to my surprise there was a local minibus on which I’d had no previous . Nevertheless it was only a half hour cycle to Rackwick Bay, the start of the path to the Old Man of Hoy.

 

Once at the Old Man I was again surprised to find so many people already there.

I set off in search of a path down to the base of the sea stack and eventually found a steep difficult path clearly only used by climbers.

I’d asked a couple to use my camera to take a photo of me climbing the lower part of the sea stack, and they kindly agreed but saying they didn’t know how long it would take me to find a path down nor how long they’d be there so all being well they’d take photos of me climbing (and/or falling) and email them to me.

The climb looked easy enough (there being an E1 route) and given the proper climbing gear, and a climbing partner, neither of which I had. Nevertheless I decided to climb the first five meters to at least know I’d climbed ‘on’ the sea stack, if not all the way to the top. 

The sea stack looked like it would still be there for a future better planned climb with guide and climbing gear.

On the way back I got chatting to a couple in their 50s who had semi-retired to Orkney from England, and who were restoring an old house. They’d got married a couple of years previously on the headland overlooking the sea stack and returned from time to time to celebrate. Both were well educated semi retired and ‘culture vultures’ but neither of them concerned with the isolation of living so far up north. They said they both had lots of reading to catch up on.

Later back at the YHA I got chatting to a couple holidaying with their teenage daughters, all four riding two tandems around the islands, a regular form of holiday transport for them. It soon emerged the father had studied at Sheffield a decade after me, and had learned to climb there and later climbed in several countries so we had lots to discuss regarding the sea stack climb.

Orkney Mainland

After pondering how to get back south (such had my planning skills come to), almost on the spur of the moment I decided to take the twice daily ferry that was about to leave John O’Groats north to Orkney. To finish at the Old Man of Hoy had after all been my original journey’s end before weariness set in.

In my panic to get aboard the soon departing ferry I left behind in the kiosk all the John O’Groats postcards I’d just purchased to send to family friends and well wishers.

As I approached the ferry one of the last passengers to get off was a man of weary appearance of my own age pushing a heavily laden touring bike. My first thought was ‘God, that that’s how I must look.’ He greeted me in a cheery Australian accent and assured me the trip was worth the effort. After pondering what reason he may have to lie to a stranger I felt reassured and boarded.

A group of dangerous aged ladies on the ferry (they were the only other passengers so I was at their mercy) urged me to join them on the ‘package deal’ which included a ‘Highlights Tour of the Orkney ‘mainland.’ I was easily persuaded by the thought of a whole day in a warm dry bus and the ferry staff were happy to upgrade my ticket even on the high seas. I knew my bike would be happy for a day off too and in good care.

The tour included a visit to:

• Skara Brae Neolithic village cocooned by sand for 4000 years until a fierce storm in 1850;
• Stenness stone circle
• Scapa Flow – graveyard of the scuttled entire German WW1 fleet.
• The Churchill Barriers connecting the islands and thus closing the approaches to Scapa Flow in WW2 after the loss of HMS Royal Oak to a German submarine.
• Italian POW chapel

It also included everything else the driver could think of telling us about the island including its awful winters, mid-summer nights that only lasted a couple of hours, and Orkney’s association more with Norway than Scotland.

With so much to see of interest at the end of the earth I decided to stay overnight given the good prospects of getting to Hoy the next day. The bus driver kindly dropped me back at the ferry terminal to pick up my bike and transport it and me back to the nearest town, leaving me to cycle the rest of the way into the main town of Kirkwall and onto the local but basic Youth Hostel.
 
In spite of its initial bleak appearance Kirkwall, Orkneys capital is home to a lovely cathedral, the northernmost renaissance palace, and the world famous young folkies the ‘Wriggley Sisters’ and their school of music and venue ‘The Reel.’ Indeed a poetry and fiddle evening was in full swing but I was not, just weary and hungry.