OUT AND ABOUT WITH RALPH: Orkney high point is a breeze on e-bike
From Papay to Hoy. The overnight rain was clearing as I pedalled the two miles down to the ferry, but the wind had swung round to the south and was now blowing a good force six.
Incongruously, the short flight to Papay from Westray had just touched down on its way to Kirkwall and a few visitors were wheeling cases along the road to the hostel.
The Westray ferry came in, bouncing through the choppy waves in clouds of spray. The skipper of the little 12-seater simply opened the throttle and we sped back towards the larger island as waves from the side drenched the boat. Safely back at Pierowall, I found a hose to wash the bike down – saltwater is not good for e-bikes.
I had most of the day to spend on Westray before catching a late ferry to Kirkwall, but heavy rain was forecast later. The morning looked fair though for a visit to Fitty Hill, Westray’s highest.
It was uphill straight into the 30mph wind and a fair bit of battery use to help me along for three miles to where a track headed up towards the hilltop. Indeed a signposted path led through fields of cow-churned grass and barley stubble to a short, steep climb up the 600-foot top.
This hill is visible all over Orkney, a characteristic signature of Westray. The views are correspondingly good, past Rousay to Mainland Orkney and the hazy hills of Hoy, my next destination.
There is never enough time. I’d have loved to do the walk along Westray’s spectacular western cliffs or, better still, kayak round the island.
I detoured on south to a quiet beach of sand and slabby rock at Kirk Taing, sanderlings scuttled and curlews called. Then, with the wind behind, a fast ride back to Pierowall, reaching speeds of nearly 40mph on the steep downhill.
Many years ago we had a lovely stay at the Pierowall Hotel and this time enjoyed one of my best fish and chip lunches, only to be surpassed by Inverie on Knoydart.
Well fortified, I set off for the Rapness Ferry terminal, eight miles south across the green island and dead into the howling wind which had of course swung round 180 degrees from when I cycled the other way two days earlier.
But this is when an e-bike really scores! I made it to the waiting room just as the heavy rain came on, giving up my plans to explore the southernmost point on the island.
Kirkwall youth hostel gave a friendly, comfortable stay for the night, things have come on a lot since I first went hostelling in 1969 and wardens were more often like warders.
I had to leave early for the Houton-Lyness ferry – it’s always a nice ride under the rolling hills of south Mainland with fine views over Scapa Flow. Once again, heavy rain was forecast and the the walkers heading across to Lyness for a day on Hoy were well-dressed for it.
It’s hard to imagine what this area must have been like in World War II, now just the detritus of rusting sheds, concrete fortifications and scruffy landscape remains at Lyness like harbour scum when the tide has gone out. Leaving it behind as quickly as possible I headed south, aiming to cycle round South Walls before heading back for north Hoy.
Originally a tidal island, there is now a good road across the Ayre to what has become a peninsular of Hoy. Four miles across this farmed landscape is Cantick Head, a lighthouse I’ve seen thousands of times across the firth but never, to my shame, visited before.
At the end of the rough road is a very plush self-catering cottage under the lighthouse, overlooking the tide-race between here and Switha, an intriguing small isle which I have yet to visit.
South, the view is inverted from our normal one, with Stroma and Caithness beyond Swona. And nobody can visit here without paying their respects at the Longhope memorial to those eight lifeboat crew who lost their lives in 1969 attempting a rescue in appalling conditions.
Pedalling on round South Walls and Longhope then back the way I’d come, I detoured up a track climbing to a mast on the hilltop of Binga Fea with fine views south to Caithness and the distant hills.
Climate changed 5000 years ago, people left, and peat started building up – the platform for the mast is dug from peat 15 feet deep. Huge clouds and showers were starting to build, it looked like the rest of my ride to north Hoy might be wet!