Islands eleven and twelve.

On Saturday we headed to Kirkwall to top up on supplies for the Hoy trip, and I attended a concert in the cathedral, part of the St Magnus Festival, by the BBC Singers, which was fantastic.

On Sunday morning we got up in a leisurely manner, packed up and headed to Houton for the 10.15 ferry. We took our time, and were surprised to see as we came over the hill that the ferry was there, and vehicles were about to board. We joined the queue, and asked if we could catch this ferry, and as there was room on it, we could. So we caught the 9o'clock instead. Magic! More time on Hoy!

We headed up-island and checked out the pierhead at Moaness as a possible overnight spot. It looked good, so we left it and headed for Rackwick, where the hostel was a disappointment, as there was no possibiliy of parking there, so we went down to the large carpark near the beach. There was already a campervan there, and some cars. We parked up and took Jack for a walk down to the huge boulder beach and the bothy. It is really a basic shelter, which anyone can use free of charge, with their own sleeping mat and sleeping bag. I looked at the visitors' book and noticed a bottle of Highland Park malt whisky in its box on the table. I had a look and to my amazement there was still about a finger of whisky left in the bottom, to cheer some future camper's evening! Climbers often use the bothy, after climbing the Old Man of Hoy, the celebrated sea stack off the western cliffs near here.

Back to the car park, where to our dismay the large tour bus which had been on the ferry had parked right behind the van, having disgorged its passengers, and was sitting there running its engine. The magical eerie silence of this lovely place, with just the sounds of the sea the wind and the birds, wrecked by a throbbing diesel engine on endless idle. We thought of various ploys to get the driver to switch it off. From tempting him with a chocolate biscuit and a cup of tea, the carrot, to the threat of phoning up his head office on the phone number emblazoned on the side of the vehicle, the stick. In the event we did neither, just sat and seethed for about half an hour, when suddenly the driver did it himself, got out, put on a rain jacket, and went for a walk. It was obvious that his punters would be a while returning, as some of them had headed off on the long walk up the hill and round to the Old Man of Hoy. So we just stayed put, had lunch eventually, and heaved a sigh of relief when they all left at half past two.

We looked up the hill at Bunnertoon, the isolated croft that Peter Maxwell Davies lived in for many years, and remembered when we were camping here over twenty years ago, and watched a helicopter arrive with a huge bag of coal suspended underneath it, then deliver it in a cloud of coaldust to keep the composer's fire burning over the winter!

We stayed overnight, using the public toilets near the carpark, but decided against doing much more walking as the weather was cold and rainy, although shafts of sunlight had illuminated the red sandstone cliffs beautifully just before sunset. In the morning, if it was good weather, we would decide either to walk to the Old Man, or cross over to Graemsay for a long walk.

Monday morning dawned wet and nasty, so we binned the plans and instead went back down-island, to visit the Naval Museum at Lyness, our standy for bad weather. We know it well, having visited before, but every time brings new impressions, new information. The two world wars had a huge effect on these islands, Hoy in particular. Thousands of military and naval personnel were housed here, creating temporary towns which needed everything towns provide, like cinemas, shops, telehone exchanges, warehouses, and all that besides the stores of fuel, armaments, vessels and aircraft. A local farmer told us later that agriculture today would not be the same on these islands if it had not been for the wars, and the need to feed all of these thousands of people.

We had lunch in the museum cafe, decked out in 1940s style, with an old fashioned radio playing popular music from the forties. Coffee was served in china teasets, and there were little round weighted nets over the bowl of sugar lumps. Very Brief Encounter!

Outside the museum is the relatively new memorial to the Russian Convoys. It flies the flags of the UK and the Russian Federation, with inscriptions on two upright stones in English and Russian, commemorating the brave men who went on these convoys, many paying with their lives.

After lunch it brightened up, so we went on a coastal walk recommended to us by the man in the museum shop. It was indeed a worthwhile walk, with lots of geological features like geos and gloups. To be translated, these are inlets, and great holes in the land next to the cliffs, with the sea pounding in at the bottom. The latter are pretty scary, with steep sides, and stones saying 'DANGER'

We visited a graveyard after that, with the graves of seven of the eight crew of the Longhope lifeboat who died in 1969, trying to save a ship.during a storm. There were also war graves in the cemetery, although most are in the naval cemetery at Lyness, over six hundred graves. It is one of the saddest places I have ever visited, all those dead eighteen and nineteen year olds.

We then checked out the Longhope pier, where Ju had tracked down not only public loos but also a shower! The island's only shop was beside it, so we bought a few necessities, and decided to go back to Lyness. Parking was very limited at Longhope.

On the way we visited the RNLI museum which had a real lifeboat we could clamber all over, and lots of photos of the history of the Longhope lifeboat.

The pier master at Lyness could not have been more helpful. After talking to him for some time he offered to let us plug in to electricity on the pier overnight. Great, we thought, so that is what we did, parked right beside the shack that operates the linkspan, and only a metre or two from the ferry, the Hoy Head, whenever it came in, Hoy has no recognised campsites, but quite a lot of campervans and motorhomes come to the island, so wild camping like we did at Rackwick was the order of the day. We were glad to get our fridge cooled overnight by mains power. Otherwise we have to us gas, or run it off the batteries while we are driving.

On Tuesday morning we got up at silly o'clock, disconnected the power cable, and set off north again to Moaness very early. We decided to get the 10.15 ferry over to Graemsay, our twelfth island, to attempt a circular walk round it, according to our walks book. It was sunny and quite warm when we landed on Graemsay, but we had a surprise when the ferry arrived at Moaness as no fewer than 73 people got off! It was a concert of the St Magnus Festival which involved a lot of young musicians, all carrying music stands, so it was rather surreal! The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, no less!

The circular walk round the island described in our book of walks let us down somewhat, as a lack of footfall meant it was overgrown, indistinct, covered in tussock grass and thistles, and positively hard going. Jack hated walking through thistles! We went from the pier clockwise round to the old Kirk on the coast facing Hoy, and switched to using the roads, after a picnic lunch on the table by the ruined church.

We walked north towards the lower of the two lighthouses, then round the north side of the island to the taller one. We remembered lining up our course in Little Else on these two buildings six years go when we entered Hoy Sound on our way to Stromness.

The weather was sunny and we had a lovely day, returning on the ferry that picked up all the musicians again after we disembarked. We climbed back into Reg and had a quiet evening.