We arose around 7.30, and had breakfast at 8.30. Before setting out, I opened what birthday cards and presents I had either brought with me or been given by those present.
Our first stop was at Tormiston Mill, which lies just across the road from the prehistoric mound of Maes Howe. Having bought tickets at the mill, we were sent across to begin a tour of the mound. It was built around 5500 years ago from stone, for what purpose no-one is entirely sure, since it had later been used as shelter by Vikings, who had removed whatever contents might have remained since antiquity. At some point the original roof had fallen in, and a new roof had been built in Victorian times, when the interior was cleared of rubble.
The standard of workmanship of the original building (huge and very well-fitting stones, especially considering that the place had been built using only stone tools) suggested that it would have been regarded as very important, together with the fact that at sunset on midwinter's day, a beam of sunlight will shine straight down the entrance tunnel and strike the opposite wall. A movable slab of stone which appeared to serve the purpose of closing the entrance tunnel from the inside hinted that its purpose was more as a temple than as a tomb, but today no-one can be sure.
An interesting record of later use by the Vikings is the graffiti they left behind, carved in the Runic alphabet. These engravings boasted of their skills as rune-carvers, were mementos to their lady friends, or else simply stated the obvious, as in ``These runes are written high up''.
After leaving the mound back through the long low tunnel, we headed back to the mill and spent a while in an exhibition of the archaeological history of the Orkney Islands, then made a few purchases in the souvenir shop before leaving.
Next we stopped briefly at Unstan Chambered Cairn, a prehistoric tomb now empty of what contents it may originally have held. After a brief look inside, we proceeded on into Stromness. We stopped briefly at the tourist information to enquire about excursions to the island of Hoy (we hoped to make a trip across during our stay in order to walk out to the Old Man of Hoy) before driving across to the west coast of the island, to Skara Brae.
Skara Brae is a prehistoric village, approximately 5000 years old, which was buried for centuries under a sand dune before being partially uncovered in a storm in the 19th century, then excavated more thoroughly by the owner of the neighbouring Skaill House. We spent quite some time looking around the exhibition, which featured numerous `touch screen' computer systems featuring interactive software through which one could learn more about the lifestyle of the inhabitants of the village and the construction of the houses, before heading back to the car for lunch.
We then looked in a replica of one of the houses, which had been reconstructed to give a good idea of what the houses would originally have been like. Pauline was intrigued by one of the pits full of water in the floor of the house and dipped a finger in, only to comment that something quite literally fishy had brushed her hand.
It was then a short walk to the actual village, alongside the shore of Skaill Bay. The path was marked out as to give a sense of going back in time, with stones marking various historical events. One was marked ``Fall of Rome'', at which I made some comment about ``Rome drops keep falling on my head'', prompting much groaning from the other two.
In the village, one could look down on the houses from above, and see that they were remarkably well preserved, with what seemed like large stone dressers. The remains of three further houses had recently been uncovered, bringing to ten the number known.
We then took a short walk up to Skaill House, in which there was a museum covering various aspects of Orkney life with particular reference to the Scarth family who owned the house. I later learned that the girlfriend of my officemate was named Scarth and was distantly related to the owners of the house, though she herself came from the nearby village of Twatt (of which more later).
Our next stop was at the northwestern tip of the mainland of Orkney (Orcadians simply refer to it as the ``mainland'', not to be confused with the mainland of Britain), looking out to the island of Birsay. The tide being suitably low, we walked across the causeway to the island, on which are the remains of a sizeable Pictish, and later Viking, settlement known as the Brough (pronounced as in broch but not to be confused with the bronze age fortified towers so named). By this time it was starting to drizzle. We continued anyway, but noting that far heavier rain was setting in across the mainland.
A small hut on the island contained a shelter for the ticket salesman (who merely had to check ours, as we had purchased a combined ticket at Tormiston Mill for Maes Howe, Skara Brae, the Brough of Birsay, and the Earl's and Bishop's Palaces in Kirkwall). The man gave us a brief talk on the settlement and in particular a carved stone found there, known as the ``Pictish Stone'', complete with his particular interpretation of the carvings thereon. The original has now been moved to the safety of a museum and a modern replica left in its place.
After exploring the ruins at some length, we made our way back across the causeway to the mainland, and drove the short distance inland to substantially wetter conditions and the Earl's Palace of Birsay. Upon stepping out of the car, we encountered a somewhat misplaced Manx cat, which despite the pouring rain followed us over to the ruins. The palace was built in the late sixteenth century by the notorious Earl Robert Stewart, a relative of the Stuart kings, and it complemented his palace in the centre of Kirkwall. The Earl, and his son Patrick Stewart (nothing to do with Star Trek), were responsible for general unpleasantness towards the Orcadians and indeed Patrick more or less proclaimed himself King. For some reason the real King was Not Amused and dealt with him in a suitably severe manner. Both palaces now stand largely ruined, the more exposed one at Birsay particularly so.
The weather was by now improving slightly, and we continued around the north of the island to the Broch of Gurness. Richard however took us along the old road to the broch, distinctly unmaintained and full of more potholes than the mind could comfortably conceive. At the broch we found another small hut containing a small exhibition and the obligatory souvenir sales. While we were looking round, a party of rather large and loud transatlantic types entered, but fortunately they were being whisked through fairly rapidly and we were soon left in peace, at least until we went outside again. As well as the main tower of the broch, with immensely thick walls, there were the remains of numerous buildings surrounding it, in which the community of approximately 2000 years ago would have lived during peaceful times.
We then returned to the B&B for a bit of a rest and to work out our plans for the following days, before heading out again. We made our way to the Merkister Hotel, recommended by Mrs Nicholson, overlooking the Loch of Harray. This place evidently had visions of grandeur but in our opinions had not yet quite achieved them, judging by the service. The food was adequate (I had paté, scampi and a chocolate pudding thing), but hardly outstanding, and it was noticeable that when bringing the wine they failed to offer any of us the opportunity to taste it before pouring.
On our way back we stopped at a phonebox alongside the road, not far from the B&B, as both Pauline and I wanted to phone our respective homes. While Pauline was calling, Richard and I were discussing the eerie orange glow we could see on the sky to the south, and at the time could not find an explanation for it. We later realised that it was of course due to the flare at the oil terminal on the island of Flotta.
Calls completed, we continued back to the B&B and retired to bed more or less immediately at around 11.00.