The Shetland Islands

A 14 hour overnight ferry ride from Aberdeen (a city made from the same inhumane grey stone as St. Peters) to the Shetland Islands.

Arrived in Lerwick at sunrise. The low lying clouds glow. Embers in the centre of a fire.

Very friendly -- everyone waves as they drive by. A women stops to ask if I want a lift. "Thanks, I'm just wandering".

The tap water tastes windy and musty: "peaty" -- very good.

Rolling hills and valleys of peat, patterned, damasked with esoteric berms and ditches: 5000 years of harvesting/shovelling by hand. The water running from them is black and thick. Crude oil.

Sumburgh Airport's runway stretches across the road. Stop lights stop the cars so planes can take off and land. "Got" power in the 195o. Home of the Shetland Pony.

Ferry ride from Lerwick to Aberdeen is "rough to very rough" according to the weather forecast, or as I prefer "likely unpleasant [laugh]" by the ships captain at the start of the voyage. Three sets of swells, each swell consisting of: rise, rise, hover, fall-crash, shudder, shudder, pause, repeat) are followed by a rest of three sets of three swells. At points the crash-shudder are pianissimo, more of a "slip" then a "crash". At other times they are fortissimo, the waves snapping and twanging with cacophonous joy against the hull. The next day the wind/waves/swells were going to be larger (112km/h wind).
Now to Glasgow, Portsmouth, HMS Victory... then to Lunnon Town and south to Palermo and Sicilia.

Edinburgh and context

This post is subtitled:

Edinburgh: Fashions Asshole

On train from Berwick (pronounced "Ber-rick") everyone is pounding back tallboys of Stella Artois. The train car echoes with the refreshing snap of cans opening and crinkle of cans being crushed and tossed onto the floor. One fellow has crocodile skin shoes and a pin stripe suit (finished two tallboys, in the 40 minute ride -- thirsty), while another fellow has only four digits on his left hand (three fingers and a thumb).

Edinburgh (pronounced "Edin-burrough"):

The beauty of single pane windows cannot be overstated.

There is an auld man in the hostel. He wheezes and sighs and groans. It is quite something to hear/witness. I talked to him this morning and it turns out he is a pirate. He has the accent, eyebrows the size of cotton balls, and quite respectable ear hair... and one eye. You don't even need an imagination here -- you just need to look around.

Edinburgh seems like Niagara Falls. Touristy in the cheapest, most ubiquitous way, and very 2-dimensional.

Firth of the Forth and the Forth Bridges:

The Falkirk Wheel, rotating boatlift:

Lindisfarne and the Holy Island

A short way up the coast (but a long walk and quick hitchhike) is the Holy Island and Linidisfarne Castle, connected to the mainland via a causeway that is inaccessible at high tides.

Double rainbow:

To get back from the island I took "The Pilgrims way" a (bare)foot path across the tidal flat.

Newcastle

Arrived in early in the morning from Hexham. Hadn't researched any hostels and got lucky with one right across from the rail station and in the centre of the city.

Alot of new construction. Angel of the North. Millenium Swing Bridge, The Sage Gateshead (Foster)... etc. A charming downtown which reminded me of Bath.

Angel of the North:

The people are tattooed, scarred, and assymetrical with dark glazed eyes. Eurotrash hair that puts Italians to shame.

Bamburgh Castle (second below) was interesting. Reconstructed.

Hadrian's Wall

Caught bus from London to Newcastle. Got lucky: train to Carlisle left from station 20 minutes after bus arrived.

Cat-called in alcohol soaked Carlisle. Got a hotel room.

Day 1



Started from Carlisle in the morning. Beautiful 'path' through farmers fields past sheep and cows.

Sheep seem to have a very low muscle resolution, i.e when they are looking at you, and you are walking by them they don't following you in a fluid motion. They jerk their head every second like the hand of a clock. Their rectangular iris' gaze blankly. Oftentimes they turn and piss (I assume inspired by my passing) -- another sign of their depravity.

Walked to Lanercost Priory. It was closed. Hopped the fence and had a quick peak around. Old and destroyed.

Spent the night in a scrubby field nearby.


Day 2
Rainy and windy and misty. You can see the rain sweeping across the landscape... heading right for you, so when it is not raining you anticipate it, and when it is raining you see the next patch coming.

The rivers and streams run the colour of Guinness, likely due to all the cow and sheep shit. Apparently they have to boil their drinking water. Gave up trying to avoid stepping in it, as it is everywhere.

Rain cleared just in the time for the following:





Slept beside wall, in a very picturesque spot (no photo). Wind picked up through the night. Poor tent -- the fly flapped in the wind, keeping me awake.

Day 3
A lovely walk.




I wrote in my journal, "...and their cry of: 'Rome! Rome! Rome!' was immediately swallowed by the screaming wind".

I also wrote: "my hip bones are tender".

Made it into Hexham and got a hotel. I will head into Newcastle tomorrow.

London

Arrived.

Big cities (all cities) are all the same parts reorganized in slightly different ways.

Arrived at Westminster Abbey at 5:00pm. It was closed, to my dejection. However I saw that it was open to people "worshipping" for the Evensong choral service and was also free (usually £15-ish). A beautiful time. The deep deep bass organ rumbling tremulously (with the voice of a 1000 year old man), while the young choir's voice danced nimbley around it. Much better to see a church in "use". Walking out, I happened to pass by Darwin's tomb. Caught the Evensong the next day at St. Pauls (picture below)... cannot compare to Westminster Abbey.