{"id":3066,"date":"2010-09-29T18:10:52","date_gmt":"2010-09-29T22:10:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.philpaine.com\/?p=3066"},"modified":"2018-08-05T22:15:52","modified_gmt":"2018-08-06T02:15:52","slug":"3066","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.philpaine.com\/?p=3066","title":{"rendered":"Wednesday, September 29, 2010 \u2015 Kirkwall, Orkney"},"content":{"rendered":"

Upon my word, my jour\u00adnal goes charm\u00ading\u00adly on at present.\u2026 How eas\u00adi\u00adly and clev\u00ader\u00adly do I write just now! I am real\u00adly pleased with myself; words come skip\u00adping to me like lambs upon Mof\u00adfat Hill; and I turn my peri\u00adods smooth\u00adly and imper\u00adcep\u00adti\u00adbly like a skil\u00adfull wheel\u00adwright turn\u00ading tops in a turn\u00ading-loom. There\u2019s fan\u00adcy! There\u2019s sim\u00adi\u00adle! In short, I am at present a genius: in that does my opu\u00adlence con\u00adsist, and not in base metal.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2015<\/span> James Boswell, <\/span>Boswell\u2019s Lon\u00addon Jour\u00adnal, 1762\u20131763<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I wish I could have Boswell\u2019s inno\u00adcent con\u00adfi\u00addence in the qual\u00adi\u00adty of my prose. Today, he would be the world\u2019s most tire\u00adless blogger. <\/span><\/p>\n

Sig\u00adurd Hlodvirsson\u2019s moth\u00ader, a sor\u00adcer\u00adess, responds when he asks her for advice when he\u2019s chal\u00adlenged to fight by the Scot\u00adtish Jarl Finnleik: <\/em><\/span>\u201cEk myn\u00adda \u00feik hafa len\u00adgi upp f\u00e6tt \u00ed ull\u00adlaupi m\u00ednum, ef ek vis\u00adsa, at \u00fe\u00fa myn\u00addir eirnart lifa<\/em><\/span>,<\/em><\/span> ok r\u00e6\u00f0r au\u00f0\u00adna l\u00edfi, en eigi, hvar ma\u00f0r er kominn; betra er at dey\u00adja me\u00f0 s\u0153m\u00f0 en lifa me\u00f0 sk\u00f6mm.\u201d [<\/em><\/span>\u201c<\/em><\/span>Had I thought you\u2019d live for ever<\/em><\/span>,\u201d<\/em><\/span> she said, <\/em><\/span>\u201c<\/em><\/span>I\u2019d have reared you in my wool-bas\u00adket<\/em><\/span>.\u201d<\/em><\/span>]<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2015<\/span> The <\/span>Orkneyin\u00adga Saga, <\/em><\/span>1230 AD<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Hav\u00ading slept well enough for the con\u00addi\u00adtions, I pro\u00adceed\u00aded to walk across Main\u00adland to Kirk\u00adness. This gave me ample time to savour the coun\u00adtry, but my cam\u00adera bat\u00adter\u00adies were low, and I took no pho\u00adtographs on the jour\u00adney. I was begin\u00adning to get a feel\u00ading for the farm life of Orkney. The warm North Atlantic cur\u00adrent assures that it sel\u00addom expe\u00adri\u00adences frost, and equal\u00adly cools it in sum\u00admer. The soils are noth\u00ading spe\u00adcial: the moor\u00adlands are pret\u00adty much use\u00adless for agri\u00adcul\u00adture; on the remain\u00ading high ground, the soil is lit\u00adtle more than crum\u00adbled sand\u00adstone; the low ground looks like a clay- rich sandy till, which must get water\u00adlogged in such a wet cli\u00admate. But five mil\u00adlen\u00adnia of adding sea\u00adweed, manure and crushed shell have made it remark\u00adably fer\u00adtile. The beef raised here is superb. The poor\u00ader land is dot\u00adted with sheep, all of a white-faced breed that I did\u00adn\u2019t rec\u00adog\u00adnize. A farmer told me they were \u201cLane\u201d [this is what the word sound\u00aded like to me, but this was fil\u00adtered through my still awk\u00adward grasp of Orca\u00addi\u00adan dialect]. He also informed me that there\u2019s brown-wooled breed unique to the island of North Ronald\u00adsay that lives exclu\u00adsive\u00adly on seaweed.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Orca\u00addi\u00adans don\u2019t seem to be great talk\u00aders, but they will chat with a stranger walk\u00ading by. None prod\u00added me for any infor\u00adma\u00adtion about myself. I was just anoth\u00ader \u201cfer\u00adry-loop\u00ader,\u201d a sta\u00adtus that made me one in the same with any\u00adone from Caith\u00adness to Kathmandu. <\/span><\/p>\n

With the sky over\u00adcast, the hills and fields that had glowed the pre\u00advi\u00adous day now took on a picuresque gloom. Most peo\u00adple in the North Atlantic like to paint their hous\u00ades bright\u00adly, to con\u00adtrast with the grays that dom\u00adi\u00adnat\u00aded the land\u00adscape much of the time. But the Orca\u00addi\u00adans pre\u00adfer to blend in with the back\u00adground colours. Almost all their hous\u00ades are grey stone, but even the stuc\u00adcoed walls are usu\u00adal\u00adly paint\u00aded gray, dull blue, or off-white.<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked through the vil\u00adlage of Fin\u00adstown. Refresh\u00adments at Baikie\u2019s Store. I won\u00addered why, among all the greys and blues, one house had a bright red door. The tiny hotel is called Pomona Inn<\/em>, a curi\u00adous name that recurs now and then. Most place names in Orkney are derived from Norn, the vari\u00adant of Old Norse that was spo\u00adken in the islands until the sev\u00aden\u00adteenth cen\u00adtu\u00adry. But sure\u00adly \u201cPomona\u201d is nei\u00adther Norse nor Celtic. Fin\u00adstown, <\/em>how\u00adev\u00ader is no mys\u00adtery. The term \u201cfinn\u201d was used in Old Norse to des\u00adig\u00adnate the abo\u00adrig\u00adi\u00adnal inhab\u00adi\u00adtants of Scan\u00addi\u00adnavia, before the arrival of the Indo-Euro\u00adpean Norse. Clas\u00adsi\u00adcal authors referred to the Fen\u00adni <\/em>of the far north. It was applied, in the Mid\u00addle Ages, to the peo\u00adple we now know as Sami, or Lap\u00adp\u00adlan\u00adders, and this may be whom the Romans meant. Sub\u00adse\u00adquent\u00adly, the name was trans\u00adferred to the Suo\u00admi, the Finns of Fin\u00adland. Orkney was set\u00adtled by the Norse in the ninth cen\u00adtu\u00adry. What hap\u00adpened to the ear\u00adli\u00ader Pic\u00adtish inhab\u00adi\u00adtants is not known; dri\u00adven out, exter\u00admi\u00adnat\u00aded, or absorbed. It\u2019s quite prob\u00ada\u00adble that, among the Norse set\u00adtlers there were Sami, or descen\u00addants of Sami, per\u00adhaps brought as slaves. They would have been regard\u00aded as hav\u00ading spe\u00adcial access to the super\u00adnat\u00adur\u00adal. The arrival of Chris\u00adtian\u00adi\u00adty would have trans\u00adformed them into witch\u00ades and war\u00adlocks. The only puz\u00adzle is why this par\u00adtic\u00adu\u00adlar vil\u00adlage would be actu\u00adal\u00adly des\u00adig\u00adnat\u00aded as the abode of witch\u00ades \u2015 \u201cFin\u00adstown\u201d. Maybe witch\u00adcraft was not always seen in a neg\u00ada\u00adtive light, and Fin\u00adstown had a going com\u00admer\u00adcial con\u00adcern in magic.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rather than take the main road along the coast, I chose to walk to Kirk\u00adwall by the small\u00ader Old Fin\u00adstown Road, and this pro\u00advid\u00aded some excel\u00adlent views from high\u00ader ground. I passed what appeared to be a ghost vil\u00adlage. One house was whole and sealed up, two were in ruins and deeply buried in brush and tall grass, and there were some sub\u00adstan\u00adtial, well-built walls fronting the road. When the vil\u00adlage was aban\u00addoned, I could not guess. The road ducked south of a high hill that bris\u00adtled with telecom\u00admu\u00adni\u00adca\u00adtion tow\u00aders, then entered Kirk\u00adwall in the gen\u00ader\u00adal neigh\u00adbour\u00adhood of the hos\u00adtel where I hoped to bed down for the night. Not that I mind\u00aded sleep\u00ading out of doors again, but I need\u00aded a con\u00adve\u00adnient base for explor\u00ading the town.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/a>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Kirk\u00adwell is the largest set\u00adtle\u00adment in Orkney, and in essence the cap\u00adi\u00adtal of a small nation. The mere 19,000 Orca\u00addi\u00adans pos\u00adsess every\u00adthing that goes with nation\u00adhood except the polit\u00adi\u00adcal stamp of it. They have a his\u00adto\u00adry, immense\u00adly long, with five and half thou\u00adsand years of it pre\u00adserved in stone struc\u00adtures. Only Egypt can boast a rival pedi\u00adgree. They have a lit\u00ader\u00ada\u00adture, rang\u00ading from a medieval epic (the Orkneyin\u00adga Saga<\/em>) to well-regard\u00aded mod\u00adern nov\u00adel\u00adists. They had their own lan\u00adguage, Norn, replaced only in recent times by a dialect of Scots that dif\u00adfers sig\u00adnif\u00adi\u00adcant\u00adly from any\u00adthing on the main\u00adland. They have an entire mytho\u00adlog\u00adi\u00adcal uni\u00adverse of their own, with, among oth\u00ader things, the folk hero Assi\u00adpat\u00adtle, who defeats the Stour Worm, or World Snake. Kirk\u00adwall boasts a fine library and superb pub\u00adlic archives, as well as a col\u00adlege host\u00ading aca\u00add\u00ade\u00adm\u00adic and sci\u00aden\u00adtif\u00adic insti\u00adtutes that do work of glob\u00adal impor\u00adtance. With a pop\u00adu\u00adla\u00adtion of less than 9,000, it nev\u00ader\u00adthe\u00adless boasts one Britain\u2019s old\u00adest cathe\u00addrals, and it is no mean struc\u00adture. St. Mag\u00adnus looms over the town with\u00adout com\u00adpe\u00adti\u00adtion from any mod\u00adern buildings. <\/span><\/p>\n

Around the cathe\u00addral there are old streets of gray slate and sand\u00adstone hous\u00ades and shops. These, as in Strom\u00adness, are nar\u00adrow and paved with the same stone. Fur\u00adther from the cen\u00adtre, there are more mod\u00adern streets paved with asphalt and boast\u00ading the usu\u00adal bunch of Tescos, park\u00ading lots and petrol sta\u00adtions. But even the new\u00adly built hous\u00ades are cov\u00adered with stuc\u00adco only a shade paler than the ancient stones.<\/span><\/p>\n

The effect for the vis\u00adi\u00adtor is of being a land<\/em>, a place which is def\u00adi\u00adnite\u00adly not Eng\u00adland, and not even Scot\u00adland, but entire\u00adly its own thing. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Upon my word, my jour\u00adnal goes charm\u00ading\u00adly on at present.\u2026 How eas\u00adi\u00adly and clev\u00ader\u00adly do I write just now! I am real\u00adly pleased with myself; words come skip\u00adping to me like lambs upon Mof\u00adfat Hill; and I turn my periods \u2026<\/p>\n

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