A path less followed - Papa Westray, Orkney Islands

                    

As I was researching mainland Orkney, I started wondering about the other islands, how could I get to them, how many could I cover in my all too brief time, what would I do when I got there, etc. I learned about Papa Westray, or Papay (population less than 100), and the existence of some more Neolithic buildings and the wildlife, and, what really geeked me out was the possibility to take the world's shortest scheduled flight at under two minutes (see above video). I was hoping to be able to get a tour of the island and the wildlife, maybe cruise around the island a little, but sadly my October visit was after the local ranger stopped giving tours. I was on my own, which as we know, can lead to all sorts of trouble, like, well, wait and see.

I knew the plane was going to be small, but I didn't have any idea that it would be so small that my backpack (maybe a little bigger than some) had to go in the cargo hold. I could tell there were some regular customers, like the nurse who was making trips to the other islands, the music teacher who was visiting the school on Papay, and the passenger with the toolbox who was going to be making some repairs somewhere on the island; there were also a few of us tourists. The first leg of the trip was to Westray and the nurse and a few others got off, and a couple other guys got on. The turnaround time was crazy fast, enough to get the passengers off, pick up a bag of Royal Mail, and buzz off the landing strip. And then, 1 minute and 19 seconds later, we landed on Papay. 

                   

The plane was greeted by a couple members of the fire department; I think that's probably a safety measure, no need to be alarmed. It is almost impossible to be graceful when disembarking from the plane, but no matter, I'll never see those people again. There is no terminal or gate to walk through, well, except for the literal gate that takes you past the airport office. There's no lounge either. Archie, my driver from Kirkwall, said turn left (or was it right?) and just walk until you come to St. Boniface Kirk/Church, a 12th century church. There was one sign pointing me in the right direction, and I just kept walking until I saw it. 

    

                                               

It was very peaceful and very different in scale and atmosphere from the cathedrals and chapels I saw on this trip, no stained glass windows, flying buttresses or effigies, but very humble. The church was one of the places I wanted to visit, and now, for the other main item, the Knap of Howar, the oldest preserved farmstead in Northern Europe from 3700 BC. Sigh, it should not have been as challenging as it was considering the island is only 3.5 square miles, but it was bit of an ordeal finding it and then actually getting to it. But it was definitely worth it. 

I felt like I was being judged.

Once I found this sign, you would have thought it would have been rather straightforward...and you would have been mistaken.

To even get to the above sign post, I had to walk through the gate of a farm, and then trod along and then I came to what was either one of the muddiest fields I've ever walked through, or it was something else (most likely a combination of cow/sheep pasture - sorry, city girl here, and mud). I wish I had a GoPro to record my not so dainty crossing and my sheer terror and falling. I did make it, and I was not disappointed. It's free to enter, just be respectful of the farmer's property and of the ruins. You can walk through it and amongst it, which you can't do at Skara Brae. I tried to imagine what it was like 5000 years ago, on this windswept coast, probably harsh winters, hunkering down around a smoky fire. After my visit in the time machine, I had to get out. I hoped my luck would hold, and I would make it back to the road unscathed.

There are ruins of an Iron Age chapel church under the ruins of a Middle Age church known as St. Tredwell's, but after my adventure getting to the Knap of Howar (I left out the details of making a wrong turn for about 2 miles or 1/2 mile, it became hard to tell) and getting out of the Knap of Howar, I lost my appetite for any more big hikes. I did do more walking, but I knew I would never get to St. Tredwell's. Anyway, I walked and walked, looking for wildlife, really hoping to see some seals. I'm sure if I knew what I was looking for, and went to the right place to birdwatch, I could have seen some cool things. But I am pretty hopeless. But, never fear, I kept going until I found a stretch of beach and some little heads bobbing up and down in the water. There were at least a couple of dozen of seals floating, poking their heads up. I stood there for maybe ten, fifteen minutes, just watching. It was quite mesmerizing. I couldn't get closer, but I don't think I would have. They didn't need the stress of some biped getting too close.

I thought I saw that there was a cafe or some place I could grab a bite to eat, even simply a cup of tea and a few biscuits. I have a strange feeling it was there and I missed it. After my strolls, I made my way back to the airport, habit I suppose, because I didn't need to get there 90 minutes early for security. I did need to sit, however, and even that was a bit of a challenge. 

It was a long, but fabulous day, filled with adventure and misadventure, history and nature. By the end of the day my pedometer indicated I walked over 29,000 steps. I slept well that night, that's for sure.