This morning, I dropped A and a fellow “wool weeker” at North Noss Public Hall on Yell – before heading out for a rain blasted day attempting to explore some of Yell’s archaeological remains.
I stopped first at Old Haa Museum enjoyed the exhibits and nursed coffee and cake as the rain lashed in from the north east.
Following the gist of tours laid out in Fojut, N. (1993) [see reference below], I punctuated my journey at the road heads for several brochs on the east side of the island. At the first stop the rain was so heavy I declined to leave the car. At the second and third stop I did not feel at all welcome as a tourist. Several strategically placed fences (all at deer fence height) and hugging the road so tightly they prevented me from both parking and accessing the second site without a long walk in from elsewhere in the rain. At the third stop the road ended at a croft and several sheep folds.
Here, there was room to park without obstruction, but I would have felt uncomfortable walking through the small folds. My discomfort was heightened when a Hi Lux pulled in and the driver so obviously letting me know he was “checking me out” before turning around and driving straight back up the road. Bollocks to that, I was clearly unwelcome, the vibe being so uncomfortable I could almost hear the banjos playing on the bitter wind.
I plugged Brechon Sands into the sat-nav and headed north and west. Parking at the road head, the local crofter welcomed me with a cheery hello and relieved I set out on the short walk to the beach.
The archaeological remains in the dunes were extensive, cluttered, and apparently comprising of Viking, Pictish, prehistoric, and more modern remains. The remains completely defied my amateur attempts at distinguishing anything about them other than the more obvious stone clearances of the field systems.
Returning to North Noss I was pleased to see that A and her colleague had had a rather more productive and enjoyable day crafting.
We caught up on each other’s day over a pint or two at The Noost, before heading to Mareel for the excellent Salt House It was a cracking end to the day.
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