Onward to Orkney! I awoke the next morning energized to get on with my Scottish journey. Having recharged my Abby adventure stores with my bike ride the day prior, I decided that I would get an earlier start to Inverness for my connection to Orkney and check out the town a bit. I had a non-changeable advance train ticket for later that day, but thought I would gamble to see just what those polite ticket checkers on board would do if I happened to be on the right train at the wrong time.
The ride from Nairn to Inverness is just a wee 15 minute journey. My heart was oddly racing about the ticket – really the worst that could happen was that I would have to pay the six pound fee for a new one. I had floated the thought out there, though, “Would really like to have my ticket work,” and waited in anticipation to see if my call on the universe would succeed. The stocky blond ticket woman didn’t make it to me until I was waiting at the door to depart the carriage. I offered my ticket, she glanced at it with a smile, and I exited the train at Inverness Station.
Fun how the little victories can just set a positive tone for the whole day.
I easily found the Left Luggage area but noted the lack of change in my pocket. In order to obtain the requisite value in coins, I bought the cheapest snack pack (protein powdered almonds) at the station shop — the alternative being to wait for change in a rather long line of perplexed travelers at the tourist desk. I then mastered the luggage lockers and exited the station free of all baggage except for my little backpack purse.
I headed straight for an ATM. I wasn’t certain that the distant outpost of Orkney would have a cash machine, though it is difficult to imagine anywhere that wouldn’t. Best to be prepared. Once flush with pounds, I pulled out my little hand-drawn map of Inverness:
In my earlier train travels, I sat across the table from a couple who were returning from holiday and lived in Inverness. I mentioned that I would have a layover of a few hours in their town later in my journeys and asked if they knew where Leakey’s Bookshop was located. Upon hearing that the one place I really wanted to see in Inverness was her very own favorite spot, the woman did a little hop in her seat, ripped a page out of her diary, and started drawing.
Now, map in hand, I headed to the Victorian Market. This turned out to be a narrow strip of enclosed shops that looked like colorful market stalls and mostly hawked souvenirs. A more interesting route than through the regular street, true, but not worth hanging about.
I exited onto Church Street and passed the “Best Scottish Music Venue in Scotland,” Hootananny. I tucked my head inside the door and scoped it out. Looked like your average wood inlaid pub but bigger. I would be back in Inverness for one night after Orkney. Might be worth a visit.
I continued on down the street to find a little vegetarian cafe called Nourish. The train woman assured me that I could find fresh vegetables on the menu, something I had yet to experience on this UK visit. I felt very much in need of something crunchy. I sat down to order but discovered I had arrived in the purgatory period between breakfast and lunch and could only order a panini. I had my heart set on the listed “lunch” menu option of freshly baked grainy bread spread with Hummus and a side of organic greens topped with beets. I would go on to the bookshop a few yards distant and return sometime after the magic hour of 12 noon.
Leakey’s used bookshop is housed in an old Gaelic church built in 1649. For those who have read The Thirteenth Tale, the interior was exactly how I imagined the writer’s family bookshop to be. The 100,000+ books roughly are organized by section. One alcove has “travel,” another “poetry,” another “cooking.” Within each space, however, there appears to be an organizational lack of rhyme or reason, or at least not one that could be deciphered in my 15 minute attempt. The bearded and sweater vested man tucked in a square of books on the main floor, however, seemed like he might be a magician in disguise. I envisioned him springing to life to wander the stacks, running his finger along the titles until it landed on any book requested based on a mental map that only he had.
The former church is said to hold the largest collection of old, rare and second-hand books and maps in Scotland. There were aged box sets of Hemingway novels, books in Gaelic, and a musty teacup stained copy of Agatha Christie’s Three Act Tragedy which I almost picked up until I saw Daphne Du Maurier’s paperback of The Parasites. I had thought I’d read all of her books, but here was an undiscovered treasure for the low low price of three pounds eighty.
Having climbed the spiral staircase and made the circuit of the sanctuary, I felt a slight nasal reaction to the musty tomes developing. I glanced at my watch and lunchtime had arrived.
Onward (or backward?) to Nourish. I selected a table and awaited the batik skirted server, and likely owner, to take my order. Soon thereafter a mug of miso broth arrived accompanied by my desired sandwich and greens. Ahh . . . I could feel the infusion of vitamins course through me.
Glancing at my watch, I calculated that I had just enough time to stop and pick up some travel snacks from Marks and Spencer. I gathered a bag of tiny apples, sparkling Scottish Highland water and three pastries. I am on vacation, after all, and had just eaten a salad topped with sprouts. The journey ahead included a 4-hour train ride, 10 minute taxi, and 1.5 hour ferry which would come into port on an island well past the dinner hour. I needed to ensure I had enough sugar to carry me through it all.
I was getting to be an old hat at this train thing. Whereas before I would arrive 45 minutes before my scheduled departure, unnecessarily, I now waltzed into the station and retrieved my luggage a mere 20 minutes prior. I could have come aboard even later, but I had discovered that though my ticket reservation had an assigned seat, thus far all but one train played by the “grab the best seat while you can” rule. I obtained a window seat at a table, claiming the four spaces as my own. Stretching my legs, I anticipated the train route ahead, described as one of the most beautiful in the world.
As the train pulled out and began its journey north, I discovered I was on the “wrong” side. Across the aisle, a 20-something Asian man enjoyed his close proximity to the picture window overlooking the “water side” of shoreline we weaved our way through. Since he was clad in flip flops and athletic shorts, I was certain he was American. That is until the wonderful tea trolley rolled through, and he ordered a black tea in a decidedly British accent. The good news is that after about 30 minutes, this young man departed at Ardgay, and I hopped up to claim his space.
From this vantage point, I whiled away the next 3 1/2 hours intermittently writing of my adventures and gaping at the amazing scenery outside. Mountains and lochs, sometimes at the same time, created my view. These were interspersed with villages and a distillery along the way.
Before I expected, the train came to a halt at the Thurso station at the northern tip of “mainland” Scotland. Richard from Ormlie taxis had sent a lovely woman to escort me to the Northlink ferry. In a mere matter of 90 minutes, I would disembark and set foot on what the Orcadians referred to as “The Mainland” – the largest island in the Orkney family.
The crossing on the HV Hamnovoe was only mildly turbulent – my acupuncture wristbands did their job well enough for me to enjoy this half portion of fish and chips (note: no matter how quickly I douse a “chip” with vinegar and bring it to my mouth, the darned flavor evaporates. This Yankee will stick with ketchup).
We cruised past a number of islands en route and finally arrived in the port town of Stromness.
Awaiting me was the proprietress of Brinkies Guesthouse, Yvonne.
Curving through cobbled streets and then up zigzagging hills, we pulled up to the lonely stone family home tucked into the side of Brinkies Brae (hill).
After a quick tour and several logistical island tips, I collapsed upon my wonderful bed. After a wee 1/2 hour break, I roused myself to explore the exterior of my surroundings.
Absolutely breathtaking.
Plus, I even made a new friend.
I think this Orkney is going to suit me.