Saturday's account of the latest Shetland visit

I awoke to a reasonably bright morning with a light Southerly wind and a few clouds blotting out the sun. The aim of the day was to travel North to the most Northerly beach on the islands and thus the Britain, we were, however a little light on cash and supplies so a trip to Lerwick was necessary. The detour to Tesco was short but it was nearly 11AM when we pulled out of the service station with a full tank of fuel and set off in earnest for the tip of Unst.

The drive to the ferry-port at Toft was uneventful but we had to wait half an hour before the ferry arrived to take us to Yell. I had forgotten how apparently expensive the ferry was, a little over fifteen pounds, but was soon to realise that this was the total price for a return trip all the way to Unst, that's two ferries, so perhaps not too bad. Yell is exactly as I remembered, dull an un-inspiring, that's based on my view from the main highway at least. The ferry port at Gutcher, North-East Yell sits in a tranquil little bay and serves both Fetlar and Unst.



We had over an hour to kill so after a walk along the shoreline we repaired to the colourful Wind Dog Cafe. The cafe was cosy and a little peculiar. I was apparent from the books, jigsaws and other more exotic means to spend time, that this cafe was used to people having to endure extended periods of time awaiting their ferry. We remained only long enough to drink a cup of tea, then as the time to depart approached we returned to the car. It still surprises me that even at this isolated staging post on the route to our goal on Unst there should be the facility for free Wi-Fi, indeed this is the case at all ferry-ports on Shetland, very civilised.
It was half-past two when we approached Nor Wick beach, there were a large number of cars in the small car park that served the beach so it seemed sensible to continue onto Skaw beach, the most Northerly beach in the British Isles.



The track from Nor Wick to Skaw was narrow, treacherous and at times precariously close to a steep drop. Skaw itself nestles into a small bay and has a wonderfully sandy beach. I was taken aback slightly when a cardboard model of the Olympic rings was incongruously stuck into the sand in the middle of the beach. Even here I could not escape the bloody event, I did take the photo opportunity, however. We mooched around the rocks for a while before returning to Nor Wick.

There were now even more stationary cars at the beach which made finding a spot difficult. Eventually we halted the smallest car in the world on some thick grass near where a small crowd thronged the lip of the dunes facing the bay. I joined them to see what was drawing their attention. A number of small open boats were dotted around the bay, all full and motionless. Puzzled, Will and I found a spot to drink our soup and watch. A few moments later there was sharp retort from a starting pistol and they were off, the boats that is. We were witnessing some sort of race, I have still yet to find out what it was all about.



It was well after 3PM when we left Nor Wick and headed towards what would be our final destination for the day. As we approached Baltasound we passed a very odd looking bus shelter. Buses this far North must run very infrequently and as such waiting at a bare bus shelter would be unpleasant so someone had furnished this particular shelter to resemble a sitting room.



Bemused we set off once more and found our turning. The track ran out at a farm house, machinery parts and a car lay outside a low solid building where we parked our car and set off across the boggy fields in the general direction of the coast. Walls, fences and a small lock, Midga water, lay between us and the sea. It was heavy going at times, across rocky patches, boggy patches and around animals. For most of the mile and a half walk Will kept asking about the dangers of sheep in general and murderous rams in particular. Eventually the sea came into view and our goal, The Yei, in all of it splendour lay before us. As we descended it was evident that this secluded, isolated, almost, tombolo had other visitors.



I had honestly thought that without any direct access we would be completely on our own, wrong. Two young girls and their grand-parents had evidently spent the whole day there, swimming and observing the wildlife. Somewhat deflated I took the photos and Will and I retraced our steps back to the car.
The wait for ferries was thankfully minimal but it was approaching 8PM when we pulled into the parking space alongside the bod. No swimming, but plenty of photos and a decent walk still left both of us with a sense of achievement.