Sun, May 14
Last night Lynn, Michael and I were rudely awakened about 1 o’clock when the TV suddenly roared on, complete with a bare-breasted woman. At least that is what Michael says. I was too sleepy and, sans glasses, barely a witness to this porn-not-on-demand epiphany. We mention this event when we stop to pay for our night’s accommodation and £20 is instantly subtracted from the bill!
Ceiling in the Inn’s restaurant
We have our final Scottish breakfast across the street at the Ferry Inn, including black sausage and haggis (really good!), pack the car and go for a final walk through Stromness. Then, although it is now raining steadily, we decide to make one last visit to the Ring of Brodgar. Jill really wants to see the rabbits and their warrens again so despite the cold, the rain–becoming heavier by the moment–and the presence of four busloads of tourists, we park and walk up to the stones. The rabbits have the good sense to stay underground and we can’t see their warrens, only the sodden tourists dutifully plodding around the circle.
Soaked now we drive up the east coast and eat our lunch near the water. Jen has read about “the forest” at Cottascarth which, when we finally find it, turns out to be a wee patch of trees, a lot of heath and numerous birds, at least according to a sign that is posted there. It’s too rainy for any exploration however. We see no curlews.
We drive into Kirkwall. We have too much time to kill before our dinner at Helgi’s. a harborside pub next door to the hotel where we spent our first night (we will have gone full circle by the time we are finished.) The restaurant has come highly recommended by a local gent Jen spoke with earlier. The rain has mostly stopped. I pay one last visit to St Magnus and then we all take a walk along the pier front and out along the jetty.
We top off the diesel for the car and have one final drink at Judith Glue’s but the town is mostly closed up for Sunday. It’s too early for dinner, too late to explore anywhere new; it’s that uncomfortable in between time.
Helgi’s is not the treat we hoped for. Perhaps we have chosen the wrong menu items. Jill and Jen’s fish n’ chips looks the best, my roast beef sandwich–grey-brown meat on grey-tan bread–is dry and unpalatable, Lynn’s cheese salad is just that….cheese, and I have already forgotten what Michael ordered.
Window at Helgi’s
And now we begin the long slog home. We drive to the airport, drop off the car which has served us well and, miracle of miracles, board our Flybe flight with a rainbow touching down right over the plane!
A magic moment
Looking back
In Glasgow we check into the Holiday Inn Express which is within walking distance of our arriving plane. Once again Lynn and I are bunking in with Michael who finds the HIE a properly run establishment (at last!) where the people understand the hospitality biz. We have to be up at 4:30, breakfasted and ready for our early-morning flight to Dublin where we have the most tedious five-hour layover I have ever experienced. We don’t have Euros so can’t buy anything easily. By now two of us are trying hard to ignore the increasingly tense atmosphere, two of us have perfected the eye-rolling expression of annoyance and one of us is terminally hostile.
At last we board our final flight for Bradley and after interminable movies (Enough Said–excellent, with James Gandolfini in his final role–and Miss Peregrine’s School for Peculiar Children for me) we arrive a little after 4 o’clock on Monday afternoon, all our baggage still intact and accounted for.
Epilogue
So what went wrong? As you may have guessed one of us is no longer friends with the others. Was it the feng shui of this cottage which didn’t have the cozy fireplace-centered living room with really comfortable couches and a special-occasion dining room that graced Number 4 three years ago? Was it the really bad colds that two of us endured through much of the fortnight? Had there been some change in the group dynamic before we ever left? Perhaps it was the zeitgeist resulting from Brexit and November 8th and all the other depressing news. Whatever it was, I am so sorry this happened…
And I still want to return to Stromness with friends!
In happier times, in our Orkney-flagged mohair socks
