Dameon, we discovered, should not have been allowed beans at Carlisle. He was very good from there to Scrabster, but having suffered for so long, the moment the bus stopped long enough for us to decant at Scrabster, he just had to let go. And go, and go.


Having arrived at 3.30am, with the ferry leaving at 8.45am, we went for a short walk around the dock in order to stretch knees and de-numb bums. Or perhaps that latter part was just me.

Four stayed outside and admired the sunrise whilst five of us tried to catch forty winks inside the bus, with Dameon still loudly suffering.

At around five thirty we woke/gave up pretending to sleep, and began to amuse ourselves any way we could. From the car park where we were, we observed a car arrive and put itself first in the non-existent queue for the ferry, taking bets on how long it would take them to realise they weren’t going anywhere and turn their engine off.

A seagull came and joined the queue, second in line and waiting very patiently. Eventually, the seagull revealed its true colours; it was an undercover Customs officer, which became all too clear as it strutted up to car that was at front of queue and thoroughly inspected it, being sure to check for unauthorised sausages under the wheel arches, up the exhaust pipe and what seemed to be inside the bumper. It failed to find anything, but must have been suspicious as it ordered three of its mates to stand guard on a nearby building, keeping eagle eyed and paranoia inducing watch.

Photos of me in compromising positions had allegedly been taken. As the only girlie in the cast at this point, I was suspecting a conspiracy...

We observed an unmarked lorry entering the port, backing up to another lorry and decanting *stuff*. We speculated on what that stuff might be, but concluded that, whatever it was, the sniper seagulls had it well in hand.

Then it was time for the Chris and Joss Gay Blokes Show. With both Chris and Joss being of the over six foot two and six foot seven well built varieties, this was a show that was somewhat larger than life in a very small bus, with both being worryingly believable. Although Chris managed the body language incredibly well too. Which scared the natives.

Check-in finally open, Chris drove us in and decided to start the day with a joke, politely asking the check in man where the Seafrance ferry was. From the daggers the check-in man glared, he had clearly been born without any sense of humour whatsoever. Oops.

We parked up in our assigned lane and some of us wandered off to find breakfast. Very nice lady at the Fisherman’s Mission whipped up four fried breakfasts and five large mugs of tea faster than the speed of light and for not very much money. She was a diver and recognised us for what we were without us saying a word, rambling on at length in a surprisingly mellow accent about the local diving. She gave us the bad news that there had been some patches of bad visibility and upon enquiring about her definition of bad visibility, we were rather pleased to find that she was referring to just fifteen feet or so. Fifteen feet?! We should be so lucky on a good day in the Channel!

The ferry, MV Hamnavoe was just like a Dover Calais Ro-Ro. However, with porpoises and seals playing in the sea around the ship, the Old Man of Hoy, and a good deal less diesel in the water, it was a much nicer crossing.

I may have been a little optimistic on weather in packing though. It’s cold up here!

Upon arrival, we met one of the managers, Dougie. And we met our cook/cleaners, Marlene and ah, thingy (Di) who is a very flamboyant red head. Our introduction to Marlene began with her opening the front door and crying out ‘Oh, shit!’

Chris and Joss brought out the Gay Blokes Show and managed to scare them too. We retired to the pub, had some lunch and switched off for a couple of hours snoozle. Jon (not to be confused with Little John) and Steff (another girlie, Yay!) arrived to join the cast list, having taken a week to do the same journey we’d just done, but B&B-ing and diving their way up the country. Jealous, much?

Later, some of us headed out for fish and chips, (from chippie van run by Marlene) which involved a half hour queue in light summer rain, and calling out to fellow group members headed in opposite direction only to have them ignore us whilst those all around stared at us like we’d escaped from the local asylum. Marlene expressed delight at seeing a woman on Chris’ arm (me), as she’d got a bit worried earlier. She still wasn’t sure about Joss.

Dried off in pub and retired back to house for early night.

At around 10pm, the final two cast members joined us, Nicola (a bloke) and Daniella (not speaking so good with the English), a couple from Italy.

First impressions of Stromness? Very clean, incredibly friendly, virtually no crime and no one seems to know what a locked door is. Oh yeah, and there are no problems with pedestrians belonging on pavements and cars belonging on roads, as the pavements er, *are* the roads. Or is it the other way around?

It was noted in the evening that several lifeboats were in port. It transpired that a diver had died diving the Dresden.