Liam's Mousa Memory: Daughters and Crabs

Another departure from the Orkney trip report here, Liam has supplied me with this reminiscence of our last day in Shetland last year, and as I failed to get to the end of the series myself, this rounds off the matter nicely. More tales from Orkney next week!

 

Our last day on Shetland provided us with an opportunity to correct a minor itinerary error. Sam and I resolved to get up early (around six I think), shoot up to West Burrafirth to get the ferry to Papa Stour, shoot back down to Sumburgh Head to pick up Fran and Mike with time spare for the officially planned Mousa day trip. With an improved familiarity with the roads of mainland Shetland and the tribal cacophony of Animal Collective blasting from the car stereo, we sped to West Burrafirth and boarded the Papa Stour ferry. And lo and behold, our fisherman friend from Vementry was one of the ferry fellas! 

Papa Stour Ferry Terminal

Liam on Papa Stour

Sam on Papa Stour

He was quick to introduce us to the other members of the crew, "These are the island baggers I was telling you about," said he to his friends. We felt pretty good about ourselves just then, maybe it was that we hadn't fully woken up and were still a little dreamy in the brain. Whatever; it was an awesome coincidence. So Hamish said it was cool for Sam and I to hop off the ferry at Papa Stour for a quick snap before joining them on the immediate return trip back again, as we were pushed for time. This meant that we didn't get to look around the island, but I'm sure we will in the future when we inevitably return to Shetland. 

From the Mousa Ferry

The last island of Shetland

Walking on Mousa

Car, back down the road, picked up the others (Fran was lost somewhere looking for puffins I seem to recall) and then on to the jetty in Sandwick to catch the boat to Mousa. This boat trip is run by the RSPB for a cost of about £15 per person, however, we were not heading there to look at birds (although watching the terns divebomb into the water was pretty cool), but to check out the rather interesting looking Iron Age Broch, easily visible from the mainland due to its surprisingly unweathered stature.

Mouse Broch

Back then we were broch noobs, and were thoroughly impressed by the size of the structure, and of how much remains in tact. It was absolutely fantastic; strangely adorned keystones, scary cubby holes, stairs that you could actually go up, all helping us to feel close to the past; tangible history that gives you a special feeling. The experience blew our broch fuses, and none since have come even close. Sorry to all of Orkney (even the little child-made model brochs, which I still hold as being better than some of the actual ruins), but there it is, all other brochs seem mundane by comparison. 

Inside the Broch

Outside the Broch

After a brief stomp around the island and a debate as to whether our morals would stretch to us jumping the wall and entering forbidden territory to bag Mousa's satellite island, we were treated to an excercise by the Oscar Charlie helicopter crew. A person was lowered down to the very island we were coveting, to be "rescued" a few minutes later. It seemed like a lot of trouble to get to that particular island (by the way Oscar Charlie crew, if you EVER need volunteers for that exercise, we're your men!), so we put a pin in it for the time being and settled on the beach for lunch. Well, sausage rolls and that, wholesome bagging fayre! And something about crabs and daughters at the end there, but it's faded from memory.

Mousa Cliff Architecture

That's the story of our last day on Shetland, after Mousa we headed back to Lerwick for the ferry home, excitedly planning our next adventure!

The Isle of Sheppey!

    Just a brief interlude from the continuing tales of our trip to Orkney, to report on a little jaunt we took on    Sunday, a most civilised affair, bagging a brace of islands with a nice meal and all home before dark.

We set off from Milton Keynes at about eleven, we being Me, Terri and Liam, Liam having already driven up from Bristol early in the morning, and followed in the footsteps of two of our previous days out down the M1 and onto the M25, but this time we carried on around the orbital, over the Dartford crossing into Kent. It was unfortunate that it was the first time that we'd been bagging in Kent, because if we had been before we might have known that we would need two pounds in cash to pay for the bridge. As it was we made do with holding up the queue for a while as the helpful chap wrote us an invoice. Apparently fourteen pence didn't have sufficient bargaining power. 

Sheerness - Sheer Exhilaration

"Groynes" - haha

Safely over the border and into England's Southeastern-most county we headed east towards the large and well populated Isle of Sheppey. The way onto the island is over the fairly long, high and imposing bridge, scene of a recent accident involving around 100 vehicles who got all smashed up in the fog. No such issues for us today, and we cruised around into Sheerness town centre. 

Sheerness clock

Stopping for a walk along the seafront looking out over the Thames estuary, we reflected that this was not the most impressive, exciting, secluded or picturesque of islands that any of us had been to. It may even have been at the bottom of all of those scales. Little more needs to be said on our impression of Sheerness, aside from a brief positive mention of a really good pet shop, where I went quite close to a tarantula and Terri enjoyed a lot of guinea pigs. 

Harty

From here we carried on around the island's fairly un-islandy landscape along to the east, before taking a side-road into the wilderness that is now known as, and used to technically be, the Isle of Harty. In the past this would have counted as a separate island (apparently, with the similar Isle of Elmley, the area used to be known as the "Isles of Sheppey") before the channels between them silted up and now they are all connected. Our destination here was the Harty Ferry Inn, located on the Sheppey side of one of the ancient ferry routes across the channel known as the Swale, which also lends its name to the district of Kent where the island is found. Here we had a most pleasant roast, and a little wander down to the waterline for a look at what was about. Not much else. This being seemingly the sum total of the excitement on offer on the Isle of Sheppey, we decided to head for home, but on the way we did make a detour into Chatham for our first island duplicate. 

The landing point of the Harty ferry

St Mary's Island is a large, rural island, home to the capital of Scilly, Hugh Town, and lots of orchards and flower farms. It is also a great big housing estate in Chatham, Kent. We crossed the bridge onto the island, drove around the ring road that linked all the parts of the estate, and then drove off again, only stopping for a picture. 

3 out of 4 thumbs?

 Some days, island bagging is a pursuit that puts you at one with nature, some days you meet the most interesting people who have stories to tell to inspire you on your quest, sometimes there is mild peril, most days there is adventure, you see landscapes from paintings and wildlife from Attenborough shows. Other days you go to Sheppey. Stay tuned for more interesting islands soon.  

Wahey!