The Hamnavoe

Just the sort of morning to strike dread into the heart of his Lordship, no northerly island hugger, en route to Orkney.

Our B&B lady in Helmsdale pronounced it 'damp', but that hardly did justice to the low mist and rain as we drove up to Scrabster. The Berriedale Braes must have come as a terrible shock to the 'End to Enders' we passed on laden bikes when they found themselves disappearing into the cloud as they struggled up these formidable hills.

Caithness from Latheron north, is flat and featureless at the best of times, but in the wet with the landscape dotted with old stone dwellings left to crumble after the highland clearances, it was distinctly unwelcoming.
It was a relief to arrive in Thurso, that outpost of civilisation, and make our way to Scrabster and onto the Hamnavoe for the 90 minute crossing to Orkney.

Despite the weather and strong wind, it was a calm crossing over the Pentland Firth, past Hoy and The Old Man and into the harbour at Stromness, where the houses hug the shore in a tumble of grey stone.

We have a wonderful flat on the shore, with a view over the harbour where we can watch the comings and goings of the boats right under our windows.

But first things first, and a fish supper is on the cards for tonight and guess what? The sun is coming out!