Sunday, 11 December 2011

Out west to Bousta

It's 2 years today since we drove off the North Boat and into a new life in Shetland. My wife's new job brought us up here, to live in Firth for 16 months and since then in Scalloway. We've seen a fair bit of the place, made friends and had a pretty good time of it. People have asked me if we like it and will stay. Well yes, we both love it. Will we stay? My response is usually 'Well, I'm not planning on leaving' and certainly if we were in a position to buy a property here we would, but probably 'nort' and certainly some where out of the way.

Today we had a late start. Clare had been out at a colleagues Hamefairin until the early hours and was suffering from the hours of dancing and the odd drink too. Beren and I were up, baking bread, but generally lounging about. We could only lounge so long though and once the bread was made we made a joint effort to get Clare up and headed out for a bracing picnic out west while there was still some light.

We headed out to Bousta a little spot just east of Sandness and a lovely natural harbour surrounded by a rough coast to explore. The sea had obviously been bad the last week with debris covering the shore and banks, but was pretty quiet now and seals were hauled out enjoying the recent current in the weather.

From the harbour we headed south over Muckle Bousta towards Corn Head and The Bay of Brenwell. Just a little stroll to blow the cobwebs away.

In a little cove, under the shelter of a cliff we sat for a while to savour our freshly made buns and look out over the voe.

The area is covered in humpy rocky hills giving views over the surrounding bays, round each corner is a new and lovely scene unfolds.

And it gives Beren the chance to play his favourite game of 'King of the castle', over and over again! It does give us a way to get him to run up the hills though...


Beren racing up Corn Head to be King...

To the north of the headland, across the voe

To the south of the headland, a low sun shines overThe Bay of Brenwell.

And on the hill top, you know who...

Beren racing down a head of Clare to be King of the next castle.

We pottered around about for a bit saying what a great place it would be to spend some time in the summer, but it was pretty cold and we discovered Beren had a hole in his welly and so sopping wet feet, so we headed back to the car. Beren wore my gloves on his feet as we headed back towards Sandness with a brief stop at Melby Beach for Clare to have a nosey.

Then out to the end of the road at Huxter to watch the clouds coming over the sea and releasing their rain and hail on Papa Stour. Thankfully we were spared much more than a spattering today.

The sea was a lot calmer than it has been but there were still some big waves breaking over the skerries out there.

Looking north-east across St Magnus Bay was surely Eshaness and a snow speckled Ronas Hill in the far distance.

The infamous Forvik with it's lonely 'house' with what I can only  assume to be Hillswick and the Drongs (far left) in the mid-ground and Ronas Hill in the background. I didn't see it when I took the photo.

The day was pretty grey, but not dull and as we were looking to go, after more than enough fresh air and a lack of tea, the setting sun added a bit of colour and the promise of  fine night...

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