Viking Graffiti

Also did I tell you I'm drinking tea at a bar listening to a group of Scottish musicians rehearse because the ferry leaves at midnight and I can't go back to the hostel?

After I sent that text I reread it and laughed; it pretty much sums up the quirkiness of my two days in Orkney. I arrived on a ferry at 2300, walked outside, looked somewhat skeptically at the dark, empty bus before locating the driver, let myself into an honor code hostel, and fell asleep. The next day I made my way to the bus station to figure out when the "infrequent, useless for seeing the ruins" bus ran across the island this week and accidentally wandered into the winding main street of Kirkwall.

I took an impromptu trip out to Maes Howe on the next bus and was sent off down a footpath towards an earth mound to catch the last tour. If I'd done my research better, I would've known what I was looking at. Instead, my jaw dropped when I was led inside the mound through a stone tunnel. Perhaps it was just as well I didn't know, I was suitably impressed this way. Maes Howe is a burial chamber that is nearly 5000 years old. It has a main central room built around four standing stones (they're in the walls, but apparently useless for support), three small side chambers with ingenious roofing (the stones in the wall of the main chamber extend backwards to cover the side chambers, and the tunnel leading back outside. This tunnel became even more impressive when I learned that the two sides are each made of a single stone. Even knowing that they were building with a rock that conveniently splits into long slabs, I was blown away by the effort that went into collecting and placing all the stones. What I find particularly cool about Maes Howe, though, is that it juxtaposes two eras of history: the Neolithic and the Viking. Because the tomb is covered with Viking runes. The tour guide described it as Viking graffiti. And indeed, it would appear that people haven't changed all that much in hundreds of years. Many of the inscriptions read things like "so and so was here", there are a number related to searching for treasure, and my favorite, up near the top, boasts that the carver could write higher than anyone else. There is also a gorgeous carving of a lion, with a back so smooth you wouldn't think it could be shaped in stone.

Within sight of Maes Howe are two sets of standing stones and a Neolithic village (Of course, in this windy land of no trees, within sight can still mean several miles). I made my way out that direction, basking in the sunlight but still wearing two coats against the wind. When I visited Callanish a few weeks ago I was struck by how tall the stones were, which surprised me because you have no comparison from far away (#notrees). I swear the Stones of Stenness are taller. There are only a few left, but they are a very impressive sight.

This patch of ground is riddled with ancient work. There are single stones in other places (including someone's yard?), the Barnhouse Village, the Ness of Brodgar, and the Ring of Brodgar. Enough that I wasn't surprised when I learned the next day that the population of Orkney at this point was actually higher than it is today. The Ring of Brodgar is huge. It is a single large ring which consisted of 60 standing stones originally, of which 36 are standing today. And, even more exciting, there weren't many visitors when I arrived. It even had two convenient mounds that we could climb up to take pictures of the whole circle. I'm sure if I visit again in a few years these will have been excavated as tombs with tour guides bemoaning how the previous idiots weakened the roof by running up the sides.

The day's adventures, however, did not end with my return to the bus stop. Because there was a fire that had closed the road. And I was on a bus with all the schoolchildren who were trying to get home. The bus proceeded to take an alternate route (first passing the "road closed" sign and continuing towards the smoke), which involved driving in circles to get the kids home, and backing down a one lane road to find a place to let a string of cars go by. Scottish bus drivers will never cease to amaze me. They're fearless.

Once I got back to Kirkwall, I paid a visit to Annie Glue, a knitter I had met in Edinburgh who had kindly offered to show me her studio! She showed me the knitting machine, the linker, the boxes of patterns for the machine, and many examples of her work. All interspersed with visits from her lively puppy (in contrast to the happily sleeping ferrets). There are two big things that I didn't know about knitting machines. 1) they have a lot of resistance! The piece that runs across the teeth has roughly the size and shape of an iron, so I expected it to be as easy to move. False. It requires a very deliberate motion, and l suspect that many of these knitters have the finger and wrist strength that some climbers work hard to acquire! 2) the patterns are all repeats of 24 stitches. This means that designing a pattern for a knitting machine requires a whole different form of ingenuity than handknitting. Each pattern needs to match seamlessly at both sides, and the designs must lend themselves to repetition. Also, curved shapes require careful thought in order to create smooth lines. This was very enlightening to me, because I had previously thought of knitting machines as able to recreate any and all color patterns I could imagine in half the time.

I had more time to think about the challenges of designing repetitious patterns when I visited a shop the next day selling knitwear and wool. They had a large selection of knits with Celtic knotworkdesigns. Naturally, this caught my eye. These were an intriguing challenge. The plait work, after all, lends itself to repetition, but creating smooth curves is a challenge in only 24 stitches. If I get the chance, I would like to try adapting some of my knots from last year into knitting patterns (they're already pixelated after all!).

After a quick tour of the beautiful red sandstone cathedral, and an even quicker walk through the Orkney museum, I caught the bus to Skara Brae. This is a special place. Wandering around, looking into the ruins, I found it difficult to believe they could be 5000 years old. The stonework looked so stable. The shelves so normal. The rooms so comfortably sized. And everything is so well preserved. Almost as difficult for me to believe is that it's thought that 50-100 people lived in this village. And that they had a sustainable lifestyle and could spend time creating artwork. Thanks to a friendly and lively staff member, I learned more than I expected about the complexities of this group of people. They had a rich diet, an extensive trade network, and skilled builders. The houses were connected by roofed tunnels (I assume it was windy then too) and I was very surprised to hear that the houses in Skara Brae had locking doors. He even showed me the drainage system running underneath the village! Apparently persistent inquisitiveness is a welcome trait here, because people keep answering my questions with a friendliness and an extensive knowledge that exceeds my expectations.

Also, apparently I'm shorter than the average Neolithic Scot.

And then I wound up back in Kirkwall, waiting for the ferry, sipping tea and listening to music, before catching the bus back out to the ferry port to catch the next sailing north to Shetland, curling up to sleep on a bench in the ferry bar.