Northmavine

As I write I'm recovering in a second B&B - luxury. The one last night was very nice except its location which was about three unwelcome and hilly miles of town. It overlooked another voe, so after settling in I walked down to the beach and had a moment's peace while the sun set.  Priceless.

Today I explored the north-west mainland, which is called Northmavine.  Not much happens there.  I left my bags in nearby Brae, at the helpful building suppliers - please do use them if you need any building supplies.  Went north 10 miles, west 10 miles to Eshaness where there is a lighthouse to mark the most westerly point, an interesting museum, great views of beaches, sea stacks, rugged cliffs - and a campsite café selling cake!  My first of the trip. Well worth a visit.

Then back 10 miles and north 10 miles, to Isbister, near the furthest north point.  What an anticlimax.  The road just petered out in a farm.  No café,  toilets, nothing.  Toilets were becoming important after the previous café stop.  The roads are very open and there are no bushes to hide behind.
An interesting diversion was nearby.  The farm was surrounded by a crescent of hills and a winding driveway led up to a house halfway up this hill.  In the front garden was parked - an aeroplane.  Not a light aircraft: a small airliner, maybe 40 seats?  How it got up there I can't imagine.  Apparently the owner bought it when it was being scrapped to do up.  Had it transported from Sumburgh airport - at the other end of Shetland. Is bonkers, surely.

Then it was back 10 miles south, with a diversion over a very big hill to see the sea ans visit the shop ( ro be told that the shop was 'at the top of the town' I.e. up another very big hill.  This is taking out of town shopping to new heights (ha ha- geddit? ).

Another smaller diversion to the village of Sullom, where I hoped to catch a view of Sullom Voe, a huge oil processing site, the biggest in Europe. No luck: it is extremely well hidden, probably about good thing. Then - are you following? - another 10 miles south to my starting point at Brae Building Supplies.  Highly recommended.

It had been raining for a while now so I pressed on towards the island of Yell.  Past the airport of Sullom Voe, the road running parallel to the runway about five metres away.   Flashing lights stop traffic while planes take off,  which is a pity as it would have been a great Top Gun moment, though not as good as last year with the fighters at Lossiemouth.  A helicopter landed right next to me as I cycled past.  Nobody returned my friendly wave.

I had low expectations of the town of Mossbank, near the ferry, and they were met.  Another out-of-town shop, a long road over a hill and down to - not much.  There was a pub, but it looked like it hadn't been open for awhile.

Arrived at the ferry in the rain.   Shouted "IS THIS THE YELL FERRY?" to the security man. "No need to shout" he replied.  "But I thought it was the ... oh, never mind"
I had been looking forward to a little something in the ferry's restaurant,  but it wasn't that sort of ferry.

Once on Yell I went the long way round to my B&B, via a lovely single track road and various villages th at might have looked lovely if the sun was shining and I was less tired, but it wasn't and I was and they didn't. I stopped briefly at Britain's Northernmost Pub, in Mid Yell, to enquire about food for tomorrow, but there was none on offer.

I wish someone phoned me just then, so I could say I was interrupted in Mid Yell, but there is no phone reception there. Another dream dashed.  Then cycled to the B&B as fast as possible, which was very slowly, to arrive tired, wet, with filthy panniers, and late for my evening meal.