"You know about the settlement?" he said.
"Errr ... it's over there," I replied.
"Ah, you'll be all right then," he said, patting my shoulder. And then he buzzed off on his battered 50cc motobike, accompanied by a couple of slinking sheepdogs.

The caravan at the settlement.
Trudge, trudge, trudge, through the rain I went. The ancient green caravan was the most picturesque part of the settlement, so although the site was interesting, I didn't linger there. Trudge, trudge, trudge, onward and seaward. At what seemed like the edge of the known world, there was the tomb, facing the cliff's edge. No decorous stooping here - you have to get down and crawl. Or, if like me you have bum knees, you lie on your back on a skateboard-like affair and haul yourself down the tunnel using a rope.

Outside the tomb. The plastic containers hold knee pads and mitts for the crawlers.
The tomb's interior was underwhelming - a stone chamber with side chambers - but knowing that at sunrise on one day a year the light strikes the back wall made it special. And the view of of wind-tossed waves through the tunnel was striking. But for me the main draw of this place was the effort you had to make to see it: it's not a passive, theme-park experience; you have to work at it, and you do get a strong impression of how it might have been, back then. Having held the eagle's talons in my hand I could imagine the great birds "excarnating" the bodies before the remaining bones were gathered up and stored in the tomb, for example. It's a great place and I recommend it.

I'm finding it hard to remember quite what I did when! Certainly after seeing the Tomb of the Eagles I drove home, took Bertie on a walk (he was asleep in the car while I was tomb-crawling) and slumped on the sofa for the rest of the evening. That's the great thing about having a flat when you're on holiday - you can eat dinner lying down. Not many restaurants offer recumbent dining.
The next day it rained and rained, so of course I went for a looong walk. I did intend to "do" some museums etc, but after "doing" Skara Brae - brilliantly well-preserved 5,000-year-old village - I wanted to stay out in the open. Skara Brae is fab. The village was buried in sand until a storm in the 1850s revealed it. The most complete house has been recreated near the visitor centre, complete with plastic food, sheepskins and so on, and seems pretty cosy. The guide on duty at the site was excellent, knowledgable and enthusiastic. He was especially eloquent about the plumbing system the ancients installed! The drains still work, apparently - they keep the houses nice and dry.

So then I drove on and quite by accident arrived at the Brough of Birsay at low tide. There's yet another ancient settlement there, and a ruined church, this time on a headland that's only accessible via a low causeway. Very slippery but fun.

I thought I'd be able to go up to the lighthouse, but it was strictly off limits for dogs due to sheep. Tsk. So instead we had a loooong walk along the coast to Skipi Geo, a lovely little cove dotted with "nousts", little hollows that were used to store fishing boats. Each local family had its own noust. They're not used now. (The house my flat was part of is called The Noust.)

Whale vertebra on a pole, Skipi Geo.
The rain was really quite heavy by now and I was damp, so it was back into the car for a drive home the long way, and another night indoors. I did stop off in Stromness at one point to do some shopping and take photos, but the visit was cut short after Bertie had a big wobbly fit on seeing several cats just strolling around. And then some children tried to make friends with him. Too much excitement!
Is that it? I think so. On the last day we had one final walk along the cliff path to the Earl's Bu, then I jammed everything back in the car, said goodbye to the flat's owner and headed off to the ferry. It was a much nicer day, with almost no wind, so it was a shame to be leaving.

Orphir on the last morning of my stay.
I drove straight back home, stopping off for a good walk near a tiny village called Latheronwheel, and again at the Falls of Bruar just before dusk. After that the weather packed in and the drive became something of a nightmare. Just outside Perth, on a long uphill haul, I pulled out into the fast lane to let a lorry in from a slip road. A van shot out from behind the lorry and overtook it - and I had to bang the brakes on hard to avoid hitting it. In the rain. In the dark. Aiiieee! One positive element was that the emergency services were busy dealing with an accident on the other carriageway, so if I had hit the van, they would have been able to cut me out of the wreckage fairly quickly.
It was lovely getting home safe and sound. A hot bath, a glass of wine and all was right with the world!
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