 Looking down Whalefirth, Yell. Shetland is peppered with beautiful old buildings, and none are more evocative and thought-provoking than some of our old church buildings that are found dotted around the islands. Once seats of spiritual worship and ecclesiastical power, many are now privately owned and have undergone refurbishment. Varda self-catering, situated on the island of Yell, is one of these. 
Varda self-catering, former church for the Herra community, lovingly restored into self-catering accommodation in Yell. Varda lies at the end of the Herra road in West Yell. A quiet part of Shetland’s second largest island, the Herra is a place often forgotten, with many people, myself included, having never been in the road to explore this beautiful spot of solitude, steeped in history and lore. Arriving in the Herra, the valley’s steep sides dominate the skyline in all directions, and it certainly feels ‘off-the-beaten-track’.
I am guilty of dismissing Yell and rushing through the vast peat moorland that forms the greater part of the island’s interior, hurrying to catch the ferry across to neighbouring Unst. So I was really excited when we were invited to stay at Varda and explore this peaceful haven, tucked away under the hills in a place which promised hours of fun and adventure.  Some of Yell's rich, peat moorland. Despite being in the centre of Yell, the Herra is a great place to get-away-from-it-all and enjoy a well-earned break. Follow the main A968 through Yell and turn off just before Mid Yell and Windhouse at the road marked the Herra. Follow the single track almost to the end; you can’t miss the distinctive silhouette of the early 20th-century church looming on the skyline.  The road to the Herra and Varda self-catering, Yell. Varda self-catering
There has been a place of worship in the Herra since Medieval times, with chapels at both Windhouse and Gremister, and the kirk, now Varda, was built in 1912. Calls for a church were made in 1911 (see photo above) when the population of the Herra stood at 140, and they had nowhere except the schoolhouse (that could only hold 30) to hold services. The old school is currently on the market, and every day when we passed it, I tried to think of ways to raise the money to buy it, and justify why I should have a summer house in Yell. A girl can dream, right? In this new kirk, each family had their own pew, and these have been beautifully woven back into the fabric of the building at Varda. I was astonished to discover the population change over 100 years; today, the population of the Herra is only 27.  The old Herra school, currently for sale. A girl can dream, surely? There were very few marriages that took place in the kirk, most couples choosing to marry in Mid Yell, and one pair were forced to marry on the beach, in the ebb-stanes, by an impatient minister keen to get to Fetlar. Information on those that did marry in the kirk can be found in the Old Haa Museum in Burravoe.  Looking across to Grimister in the Herra. Can you spot Varda self-catering on top of the hill? Approaching the house, the outside gives away no clue to its current use. The austere church exterior masks its present-day function well. The door, original to the building, opens into the porch, a bright and open space with one of the original pews. Pews have been further incorporated back into the fabric of the building in the hand-crafted kitchen which is just off the porch.
Original pews have been worked back into the building at Varda self-catering. A nod towards its ecclesiastical past. From the kitchen-diner and continuing into the ‘body of the kirk’, so to speak, there are two bedrooms – a twin and a double – and a generously sized family shower room. The spacious hallway leads upstairs through a wide, airy staircase onto another hallway with Velux windows that stop you in your tracks as you reach the top and admire views over the surrounding hills. Upstairs is a large king-size bedroom and a fantastic living room, tucked away under the eaves – a perfect retreat after a busy day exploring the area. And with floor level windows and another Velux skylight enjoying spectacular views out across Whalefirth which,at night, commands attention as the sun sets in the western sky. One of the comments in the visitor’s book from a younger guest sums up Varda perfectly. Grace said, “It reminds me of the Tardis from Dr Who – it looks smaller from the outside, but on the inside, it is BIG!” This comment really is a testament to the careful thought and consideration that has gone into renovating Varda into a comfortable and spacious home. Churches by their nature, are not easy buildings to repurpose; let alone repurpose and get right. The Hunters have achieved this perfectly, and what Varda offers is a spacious, welcoming, well-thought-out home.  Comments from the Visitor's Book at Varda self-catering. Varda is well-equipped; the kitchen is fully stocked, and there’s a Thermos in the cupboard for picnics! The house has a washing machine, TVs, CD player, high-chair and Z-beds for any extra visitors. The linen cupboard is bursting with fresh bedding all helpfully labelled according to bed size, and there are plenty of leaflets with information on things to do in Yell, including several fantastic circular walks in the area. The whole house was clean and well-presented, and the pulley in the porch was a welcome place to dry out our water-logged clothes on more than one occasion during our stay!  Fantastic views from the Herra and Gremister, out across Whalefirth beyond. Getting to and from Yell
The holiday begins on the ferry to Yell. It’s very easy to get to Yell; it’s just a short hop across Yell Sound on the modern inter-island ferry. The crossing takes about 15 minutes, and passengers can stand on the upper deck and enjoy views across the sound, passing the uninhabited islands of Bigga and Samphrey on the way. It is advisable to book ferries, although not always necessary. Timetables and bookings are available here.  Beautiful scenery in Yell, note the wildflowers that thrive here. Yell Yell is the largest of Shetland’s northern isles; and at 17 miles long and seven miles wide, there are plenty of places to discover and enjoy. Yell is also a relatively quiet place to visit. With most visitors passing through and heading on to the neighbouring island of Unst to the north, the hills and beaches are generally free to enjoy at leisure – alone. Yell is also one of the best places to see skuas, red-throated divers and otters.  Great Skua, there are plenty of these impressive (albeit aggresive) birds to see in Yell. A weekend in Varda self-catering (some ideas for your stay)  Happiness in the wilds o' Yell. We chose a weekend in mid-May for our break at Varda; arriving on Friday evening on the 18.55 ferry from Toft we had two days to explore the tantalising Herra and beyond. Driving through the centre of Yell from the ferry at Ulsta, much of the landscape is blanket peat moor, bleak and moody, yet rich in texture and colour.  The road into the Herra, vast peatland which unfolds into the sea at Gremister. Turning off the main road the peatland gives way to the green coastal fringes, and stunning views down Whalefirth and out to the Stacks of Stuis which sit on the horizon, guarding the approaches to the voe like sentries on watch.  Whalefirth views.With only an hour before tea, we took the bikes and headed down to the beach where the Burn of Bouster terminates into the sea. With Arctic terns calling overhead, trout jumping in the burn and dunlins darting around the tide line, it was a special place to while away a little time – that is until Lena decided to wade through the burn without boots on. So with soggy tights, and full hearts, we made our way back up the steep incline to the road to bed down for the night in Varda. As we cosied in for the evening, the sunset from the upstairs living room took our breath away, no photo could ever do justice to the colours in that May sky with all the accompanying sounds of the night.  A beautiful sunset from Varda self-catering, Yell. The Herra is a beautiful little community which unfolds from the valley like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon. Consisting of the settlements of Grimister, Efstigarth, Raga and Bouster, these Old Norse names are an echo from the past. And there’s a fascinating history here; the Herra is an ancient community, Laurence Tulloch of Mid Yell describes the people of the Herra, he says: “The Herra, in Yell, is one of the districts in Shetland most worthy of careful study by anyone truly interested in Shetland matters in their wide range. Among its inhabitants the unusual prevalence of dark eyes and dark hair infer that their fathers dwelt here long before the colonisation of the islands by the Northmen.” The steep-sided approaches of Whalefirth certainly make it feel like the land that time forgot.  As well as being cloaked in history, the Herra boasts the smallest community hall in Yell – now disused – once famous for its celebrations of Old New Year (January 12th) it sits next door to Varda and was built in 1931. Exciting plans are now in motion to give the hall a new lease of life. A committee of local men are hoping to establish a ‘Men’s Shed’ in this former community hall. On the Sunday that we were staying, a meeting was taking place to move the project forward with the aim of gaining charitable status for the proposal. You can find out more about men’s sheds here.  The former community hall which is set to get a new lease of life as a 'Men's Shed'. Saturday Saturday morning arrived with a fresher, colder wind and grey skies promising rain. Despite being well-equipped Varda had few toys to entertain the three and almost-seven-year old on a rainy Saturday morning, so the first thing on the agenda was a trip to the Aywick shop – an Aladdin’s cave, with everything from electrician’s wire to hair dye and hosiery. As we approached the shop, I was reminded that I was to buy essentials only. Eighty-seven pound later we left with the picnic we had gone in for, a few things to keep the bairns amused, and a few other things that we probably didn’t need, including a trout wand and a book on graveyards in Shetland.  Aywick Shop, Yell, an Aladdin's cave of goods. Exploring Grommond & Graveland The planned walk for Saturday morning was to the Stuis of Graveland; which is a coastal walk nearby, skirting the coast of Whalefirth exploring some of the abandoned settlements along the way. I wanted to get to the Ern Stack; believed to be one of the last places that the sea eagle nested at in Shetland in 1910. The Old Norse word for an eagle is ern, hence the name, Ern Stack.  Abandoned houses of Grommond, Yell. We made our way down the steep track to the beach before walking up to the ruined houses at Grommond. Once a populus place, this area is now characterised by the ruins of those who once made the unforgiving slopes their home. The derelict houses, reminders of the lives once lived here, and evidence of spade and plough can still be seen as scars on the land that you can read like a palm. Laurence Williamson of Mid Yell said that:
 Remains of ruined houses in Grommond, Yell.
Hansi was desperate to try his new trout wand from the Aywick shop, so we stopped and tried for a bite. One thing I do know is that trouts scare easily and silence is key to successful trouting. So with our little herd of elephants, no trout were caught. There were plenty of birds to be seen though – and the three rain gus (red-throated divers) on the loch seemed entirely unaware of our peace-shattering presence in their quiet corner of West Yell. The tirricks (Arctic terns) provided a shrieking and noisy cacophony overhead, while the bonxies (skuas) swooped silently above, circling us like vultures around prey. (A fishing permit for the lochs in Shetland can be purchased from the Anglers Association for £30 annually, here.)
As we left trow country and headed back to the coast the rain eased, and by the time we got back to the beach there was a great spoot ebb to explore – spoots are razor clams that can be caught on sandy beaches in low tide. Attracted to vibrations in the sand, I was sure the herd of elephants would bring home the supper this time. Unfortunately not. We can add that to the list of unsuccessful foraging attempts. Nevermind, there was still the patch of nettles at the foot of the road. While at the beach, I watched a raft of dunters (eider ducks) floating in the bay, the distinctive males stood out in their bold colours against the grey sky and steely sea, their sarcastic call echoing across the bay. These always remind me of my dad; for some reason, he is obsessed with these birds, and the sight of them never fails to excite him. Perhaps his love has brushed off on me, although we won't tell him that.  Eider ducks on the water. We never made it to the Stuis of Graveland, but Elizabeth Atia did, and she documented her walk, and fell in love with Yell here. And I believe that I too have fallen in love. Afterwards we went to LJs Diner & Pizzeria in Mid Yell. A friendly family restaurant in the old school. The menu is extensive, offering something for everyone, all served with a smile from the bubbly waitress. Windhouse  Windhouse, Yell. Shetland's most haunted house. Saturday night was a full moon, so it seemed inevitable that we would end up at Windhouse – arguably the most haunted house in Shetland, if you believe in that kind of thing. So with the ghost stories ringing in our ears, and clammy paws clinging to tired legs, we made our way up the short track to the ruined house which sits on the crest of the hill on the approach into Mid Yell. Its foreboding silhouette, dominating the skyline.  Windhouse, Yell.
Windhouse, commanding views in all directions, is the site of an ancient settlement. The house itself has its foundations in an Iron Age broch, and recent excavations have revealed a burial site within the gardens of the house. Steeped in mystery and legend, Windhouse attracts both historian and ghost-hunter, keen to unpick the magic of this iconic house. The list of ghosts alone is impressive – if not a little spine-tinglingly scary. In no particular order, there is the: Lady in Silk – thought to be the skeleton of a woman with a broken neck discovered under the floorboards at the foot of the staircase. A tall, cloaked man who passes through the wall in the kitchen. A child – a baby’s skeleton was found in the walls during alterations at one stage. A black dog who prowls the bedrooms – although the first floor and roof have now fallen in, so there is no telling where the dog may now roam. There’s the taxman – obviously – and finally, a pedlar who was found under flagstones at the door. I’m sure this list is not exhaustive, but it does make for bone-chilling reading. 
Whatever the truth, this once majestic building with the armorial crest of the Neven family above the door, was once a grand home – however oppressive the Nevens’ may have been – and whatever the truth, it makes for an eerie and thought-provoking walk. Sunday Sunday was a bit of a washout, the rain was pretty heavy, the kind that gets right to the skin. But it fell vertically, from a silent sky – no accompanying wind – so that was a novelty to be marvelled at alone.  Easy like Sunday morning. We managed to have a relaxing morning puttering about Varda until the cries from the three and almost-seven-year-old drove us out the door in waterproofs. Hansi was desperate to try for a trout in the burn down at the beach, so we all trooped back down in the pouring rain. Lena made sandcastles that disintegrated faster than her peerie hands could build, and Hansi persevered, despite catching no fish. It was such a quiet, reflective air on the beach compared to Friday night when the horizons stretched further and the night air was punctuated with the thrum of a lawnmower, and the tirricks (Arctic terns) called noisily overhead. The quiet Sunday morning felt more encompassing, the birds closer, darting the shoreline in a frenzy, and there was no definition between sea and sky, the hills shrouded in low mist, cloaked the valley and all within it.  Peerie Willie Johnson
At the Peerie Willie Memorial. In the road to the Herra, and forking left towards Efstigarth, is the memorial to guitar legend Peerie Willie Johnson. Born in Bouster, Peerie Willie is one of Shetland’s best-loved musical exports. Since 2005, an annual guitar festival – The Peerie Willie Guitar Festival dedicated to his work, and now his memory has taken place. The memorial sits alone, with breathtaking views across the moors and north-west down Whalefirth. (*note: peerie is the Shetland dialect word for small.) Sands of Breckon After drying off (again) in the busy cafe at Gutcher, we went to the northernmost point of Yell to explore the Sands of Breckon. The rain was on, and we got soaked (again).  Sands of Breckon, Yell. Sands of Breckon are fascinating. Not only does it boast an expanse of white sand and almost guaranteed solitude, but it also has an exciting and rich archaeological past that is still visible today.
Despite being soaked through, there was plenty to inspire the mind at Breckon. Gloup Memorial  Gloup Memorial to fishermen lost in the fishing diasaster of 1881. We stopped at the Gloup Memorial which is a reminder of harder times when men fished from small open boats called sixerns in offshore waters. The memorial commemorates the lives of 58 fishermen who were lost to a storm in 1881. They left 34 widows and 85 orphans behind; in this small community, an unimaginable loss. Old Haa Museum, Burravoe  The Old Haa Museum, Burravoe Yell has fantastic displays documenting life in Yell over the years. Eventually, the lure of the Old Haa Museum in Burravoe was too much, the cakes were calling. For anyone who does not know about Yell’s best kept culinary secret, get along to the Old Haa Museum and sample some, or all, of their cakes. Between the four of us, we got through most of the selection on the menu that afternoon.
And almost as quickly as we had arrived, it was time to wave goodbye and make our way back to the mainland, back to reality, leaving the mysteries of the Herra behind for another day.  Lost in the rabbit-holes of history I found in reviewing Varda that I would end up distracted; falling down rabbit-holes of history. The school opened in 1896 and educated pupils until 1954 when they were then bussed three miles up the road to Mid Yell. Think of how the community felt when the school closed. Then there was the couple who were married on the beach by a reluctant minister. This event inspired a poem at his expense that I would love to share, but that’s another rabbit hole. And there’s the folklore; tales of dogs that haunt the derelict houses, of ghosts and visions, all of these stories that were once part of the very fabric of the community. The Herra seems a faraway place, not in terms of getting there, that’s easy enough, but in terms of its very deep-rooted history. It feels like a place on the periphery, almost as though one facet of it is buried in another world altogether. Maybe I’ve read too many stories. I’ll let you decide. But it has certainly got under my skin; I want to go back, to trace the walls of the derelict houses, chase the stories and imagine what life in the Herra was like in days gone by. Some places do that to you, and I felt a real connection here.  Mortimer Manson writing in 1942 said that Yell had been “sadly neglected by writers”, despite being “an island possessed by several beauty spots.” The Herra is undoubtedly one of these neglected beauty-spots. It feels set apart, on the fringes of society, along an empty road, off the fast main artery that passes between Ulsta and Gutcher. A route I always meant to ‘take a run down’, but never had, and one that I’m now immensely glad I have. And with 83 square-miles to explore, we will certainly be back in Yell soon. And as for Varda, I can't wait to go back, what a perfect place to escape to.  The world is yours to explore. Go discover!
With love, Laurie x I would like to add a special thank you to Charlie Inkster from Yell for his help in finding me the information I craved as I fell down all the rabbit holes the Herra could throw at me, thank you.
0 Comments
 All photos courtesy of James Irvine.With summer just around the corner, many of us are dusting off our bikes and hitting the roads (or pavements). I spoke to James Irvine about his experiences cycling in Shetland. Many people ask me about cycling here, and as I’m more of the cycle-around-taking-Instagram-videos kinda cyclist, I thought I’d better consult an expert on this one.  If you are thinking to come to Shetland on two wheels rather than four, then this is for you. Or, if you are a Shetlander who has a bike, or is thinking to get a bike, then this is also for you. And, for all the dedicated four-wheelers out there, this is your chance to sit back and enjoy the ride! There are plenty of options when it comes to a cycling holiday in Shetland. You can bring a bike with you, or hire locally. Either way, once you arrive there are plenty of places to explore. And with fantastic road surfaces, and over 1,000 miles of road to cover, there is something for everyone, from the experienced hardened-cyclist right down to the novice who is simply along for the ride.
Following James on Instagram (@jamesirvine_), I’m in awe of his adventures. His hobbies include hiking, kayaking, surfing, camping, coasteering, wild-swimming and rock climbing. A real thrill seeker, I immediately feel for his mother and wonder how she copes with his antics? I imagine a certain sense of resignation as he heads out the door with his wetsuit and go-pro camera.  A quick chat with James: Off-road cycling or road cycling? James tells me that for him, he enjoys “a bit of everything. When I was younger, I did a lot more mountain biking and BMXing but recently I’ve started doing a lot more road-cycling, more for the fitness side of things, that and you can go out alone without having to gather friends”. How many bikes do you have? “Five. Well, five and a half if you include the unicycle."  What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done a bike? “Broken a few bones. “There are a few things. I jumped [on a bike] off the bus shelter at the Thule [public bar] impressing the drunks. “I tore my AC joint in my shoulder [The AC joint is where the collarbone meets the highest point of the shoulder blade] on holiday in Austria. I was riding my mountain bike over some bigger jumps which was not very clever in the gusty winds. This ended my trip prematurely, and I had to come home. "Then I had to wire up Aaron’s shed for him" he says, nodding towards my husband.  Is Shetland good for those in search of a thrill? “It definitely lacks good mountain biking trails. There are lots of decent tracks, old peat roads and access tracks but there are no designated trails. To create these, a lot of time and money would need to be invested, and that’s one of the reasons why I started road cycling."  The road between Voe and Aith, known as the Alps, or the B9071.What are the top cycle routes? “The best road is the Alps [a term locally used for the stretch of road, B9071, between Voe on the east side and Aith on the west side]. “We’re lucky to have a lot of single-track roads so you can cycle all day and not have to face the traffic on the main roads.” Considering the question a bit more – “The south end is good too – around the Spiggie loop as it’s relatively flat and all single-track”.   100 miles I’ve come to believe that James is in fact mad. As mentioned, he embarked on a gruelling 100-mile cycle, on one of the windiest days we had seen since the previous winter – all in the name of ‘fun’. The route he took included some of Shetland’s stunning scenery and ever-changing landscapes – from the peatland heart of Shetland, and the furthest point from the sea (three miles), to the coastal edges and cliffs at Eshaness in Shetland’s north-west corner. Travelling from our main town, Lerwick, the route incorporates the parishes of Nesting, Northmavine, Aithsting, Whiteness, Weisdale and Tingwall. Who needs the North Coast 500?  Looking down the Kames across Pettawater, on the A970.James describes this route as one of his ‘bucket list goals’. Choosing a cold, windy day in September to embark on this challenge he explains that he had meant to cycle a 100-mile route all summer and that time was running out (I spoke to him in November), so he says that he just "just went for it." Describing the route, he says that it’s quite difficult to accumulate a lot of miles [in Shetland] as the island’s size governs you. The mainland is about 60 miles long from north to south, and at some points is only a few hundred yards wide – it’s said you can throw a stone between the North Sea and the North Atlantic at Mavis Grind – or the Narrow Gateway – which sits on the border between Delting and Northmavine. To get the miles in (and ensure a scenic cycle), James took in the Nesting loop on the way north and the Alps (B9071) on the way south. “It was quite a challenging cycle”, he explains. “There was a strong headwind on the way there. “It was stupid really, once you get there [Eshaness], you realise that you have to get back! “Thankfully the café at Breiwick was open, so I got a coffee and cake. Luckily the wind blew me back. “It was four hours to get to Eshaness and two hours to get home again!” An indication of the wind conditions here. Since completing this, James has added many more challenges to his tally. Over the Christmas period he completed the Festive 500 which he finished on the 30th December with a 60 km ride “through the wind and rain, accompanied by a mild hangover.”  More recently he has taken part in his first serious competitive road-race, under the watchful eye of local coach and cyclist, Robin Atkinson. Competing in Peebles earlier this month, James completed the 55-mile circuit, finishing up in a respectable position mid-pack in a group of about 60 other experienced competitors. For a first go at serious cycling, James describes the experience as tougher than he had anticipated, and a great experience for his next big challenge. The following day he competed in a time-trial competition nearby, the opportunity to take part in two events made the cost of travelling to the mainland worthwhile and an invaluable experinece. Representing the islands James is now preparing for his toughest challenge to date – the Island Games in Gibraltar. Held every two years, this event sees some of the toughest competition attending from islands all over the world. James and Robin Atkinson will be flying the flag for Shetland at the event which is set to kick-off in seven weeks. I know that these serious cyclists do everything, including leg-shaving to streamline their bodies. When I asked James whether he would be shaving his legs for the event, he said we would have to "wait and see". But, whether he shaves them or not, I would like to wish both James and the wider Shetland team every success at the Games. Training at the moment is quite tough, and James is currently getting between 100 - 180 miles a week around Shetland's roads, so if you see him out training, remember to give him a wave! James’ Shetland bucket list cycling-goals Pondering this question he says that he would love to complete “the four corners [of Shetland] – Sumburgh, Sandness, Fethaland and Nesting, basically the four compass points of the island [mainland]. That route is about 180 miles.” James' advice for cycling in Shetland:
What do I need to bring?
Any other tips? “Yes, bananas are a great way to refuel, the wrappers are compostable, and you can make your pals slip on the skins!” Should you have a bell on your bike? “Absolutely not.”  Useful info: It's easy to bring a bike on the Northlink ferry, to book a passage visit here. You can hire and repair bikes in Shetland from here and here. Hire is also available in the island of Unst from Unst Cycle Hire (T: +44 (0)1957 711254). You can follow James' adventures on Instagram herewww.instagram.com/jamesirvine_/.
|
AuthorHello, and welcome to my blog. I hope that you find what you're looking for, whether you are planning that perfect holiday or maybe you're from Shetland and looking for some inspiration. Hopefully, there is something here for everyone. Archives
October 2019
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed