My last day in Orkney and I kicked it off in dear old Kirkwall again - though Kirkwall on a Sunday is completely shut and my favourite bannock shop was closed too so it's going to have to be oatcakes for tea tonight.

I decided to have a look at the Earl's Palace, another interesting slice of Orkney history taking in the medieval Earl's - people who aren't too popular in Orkney because they forced the farmers off their land, forced them to build the Earl's palaces when they should have been farming the land and feeding their families etc. From what remains of the palace/castle though, it was a very impressive building albeit clearly designed to keep out rebellious Earl wannabes and riotous local peasants.

The ticket woman (with the typical Orkney 40 something look) was a laugh. She asked about my stay and how I Iiked Island life, and I played my 'I'm Manx' card. She immediately proclaimed 'ooh you'll know all about it then!' and then we had a good natter about the trials and tribulations of shopping on an island. I asked her where an Orcadian buys large white goods and she said that you plan 'Shopping Expeditions' to the mainland. A group of you fly over to Inverness with purses full of cash and a detailed plan of the shopping centre, plus order of shops to visit, maximum time slots allowable for each shop etc - pretty much planned to the same degree as a trip to Everest. Then you spend as much money as you are able and get the last flight home (on certain flights/days there are no weight retrictions and you can get the rest delivered). I bowed humbly to her skill. I told her in the Isle of Man we do much the same thing at Liverpool, though we do at least have the 'man and a van' concept and the 'Manx Electric' shop that will sell you a washing machine at +20% the mainland asking price. 'And there's always catalogues' she added sagely though I asked about that little clause you see in all delivery details '...except to Isle of Man, Orkney and the Shetland Isles'. She had a lovely rant about this, how they always charge you extra just to get something delivered by the Royal Mail who should cover the area anyway and it was fraud, so it was, fraud. I shook my head and sighed sympathetically, but I saw this as a lost cause. I admired her passion though. I bade her a fond farewell as a group of tourists formed a queue behind me for tickets, and waved to her again on the way out.

There was some sort of bell ringing practise as I wandered round the castle too. The Cathedral is only just next door and I listened as a group warmed up with a slow bong bong bong then slowly mixed in more and more bells and finished with a long peal that went horribly wrong in a couple of places - but bell ringers have to practise somewhere I guess.

Then I rounded the highest turrent and a bloke said hello to me. Blow me, if it wasn't the bloke who took my photo on Hoy. He was just killing time until the boat back to Shetland (he was Scottish but he lived in Shetland). Turned out that he was a professional photographer (I knew it! It was the expensive camera that was the give away) presently on an assignment for Northlink Ferries. When he was on Hoy he was trying to catch the ferry as it went past but the weather was so bad he settled for some shots of me instead.

Quite a fascinating guy actually. In his 50s is my guess, grown up daughter sometimes referenced, he'd moved to Shetland originally because he worked in the oil business, but then he became an ecologist and finally ended up in photography a couple of years ago. He reckoned the design company in Lerwick was having trouble finding stock photos of local areas so he sent in a portfolio and he's been in work ever since. I asked him if he'd been sent anywhere exotic and he went erm, well he got sent as far as Edinburgh once - and got his fare paid to Iceland, only it was from Copenhagen so he had to get ther first. But he does a lot of portfolio photos for local artists, local news etc. He's happy enough with his new career.

Then we chatted about Shetland - he reckoned I was going to find it very different from Orkney. Orkney is very round, he said. Shetland is much more hilly with deep fjords, and the people have a different attitude too. I asked whether they were more insular and he said no, it was more that there was a lot of 'oil money' (in the same way you could say in the Isle of Man there is a lot of Offshore banking money and Orkney has, erm, farming and tourism). He says the island is going through generation number two who have got used to the affluence and mod cons of working with the big Oil firms and this is dangerous because one day its going to end and then they will be back to sheep farming. I drew parallels with the Isle of Man and it's tax haven status. Also, because he was Scot he was able to be disparaging about the locals and he said that they'd all like to think they were Vikings but actually they were probably all Scots. Again, I drew parallels with the Isle of Man.

Then I drew him onto wind farms. I got the predictable response - he hates them and he's presently violently protesting against a huge wind farm proposed for the middle of Shetland. 600 million in tax payers money, he reckons and it won't be able to pay for itself for years to come, if at all. From his old employment he's seen it all before - cost wise, wind farms don't make the money back and (certainly in Shetland anyway) the peat that they'd remove to set up the farm would absorb more C02 from the atmosphere than the windfarm would save in fuel consumption.

He favours a more small scale local approach - each village should be given money to create their own off grid system for their community, something they'd care for and maintain, and dole out the power from to its members. By seeing what they consume and being accountable to their peers for it, this would motivate them to consume far less than just seeing a huge wind farm on a hill and thinking 'oh its alright now'. I liked the sense in that. And he reckoned that though the population of the Shetlands hasn't increased that significantly, power consumption has gone up 5 fold. This is because people aren't caring what they consume. A couple he knew that went 'off grid' though with a wind unit and a little hydro unit on a nearby stream + batteries to store charge during dry/calm spells (cost 8 grand) - they were horrified to see how much e.g. a dishwasher impacted electricity they had worked hard to make, and so instantly stopped using it. All he's proposing is this on a slightly wider scale. Goodness knows how you make something like this happen though.

He also wasn't keen on Greenpeace. Says during that big oil spill they had years back when a large tanker broke up on Shetland shores - he reckoned Greenpeace was there kicking up a huge stink but all they were after was publicity and they didn't actually do a great deal. In the end, they closed off a fishing area for 10 years and the rest just cleared itself up, storms broke up the spill and took it away. Greenpeace are also very pro-Wind farms which he didn't like.

Then we drifted onto art. I think it was back to the fact he took photos of artists paintings for prints and portfolios. I mentioned my Mum's links with a gallery in IoM and that islands did seem to draw more of an art community than e.g. Manchester. He reckon he knew this fella once who worked in a music shop and collected guitars. When he got up to 10 of them he was persuaded to hand them over to the local artists to decorate and there was a display of them for a while that he did the publicity photos for. He thought that the guitars were no longer on display anymore but I should go into the shop anyway for a laugh and ask about them, mentioning him. I'm almost tempted.

Anyway, we talked for ages about stuff, and when we parted we joked we'd probably meet each other again on a Shetland cliff, such being the size of things and the way things work in small places.

Www.billyfoxphotography.com apparently. I'll definately drop him a mail when I get back, could end up being a useful contact.

Anyhow, all that chatting killed the morning, time for a bit of antisocialness again. Rennibister earth house was first and if you cross refer to my picture of it, you see that I took one look at it and thought, 'Are you taking the p*ss here?'. Basically it was just a fenced off piece of concrete with a lid in the centre of it that you lifted up, then crawled inside. Actually it was quite cosy when you got down there, but there cairns were getting more wierd and wonderful by the second. At least it was free.

Next was Cuween chambered cairn. This was like a slightly smaller and less expensive version of Maeshowe. You picked up a torch from a box outside, then got in via a short passage way you had to crawl down. Inside, it was nice and cool and sheltered, with three little nooks coming off the central section where presumably bodies were placed. The spookiest bit though was tucked into the wall of one nook was a little posy of dried grass, tied with another stalk of grass. It was very deliberate and looked like an offering or something someone would put on a grave. Probably being extremely blasphemous to the local pagan, I couldn't resist and made a second posy and put this next to the next nook along. Wonder how much this will freak out the next visitor. Must also learn how to carve runes so I can leave an 'Elly carved these runes' graffiti somewhere too. Yet again, just as with Rennibister and all the free cairns on Rousay - not a soul around but me. People really don't bother if there isn't an 'interpretation centre' do they?

Case in point - next stop was the Broch of Gurness. Has an entrance fee, a warden, and promise of lots of boards and video displays. Suddenly the carpark had cars in it again. Tent living is strange because you can look at the outline of tiny little Viking huts and think to yourself hmm, roomy. Like the cubbyhole there, looks useful. Quite warm and in a sheltered spot too. Nice bed space and firepit. Perhaps I've been too long without a proper bed and now suddenly even neolithic remains are starting to look comfortable...

Continuing my theme for today which was chattiness I had a little natter to the Warden at Gurness. He was a Orkney local and wouldn't be drawn on what Shetlanders were like, only that I would find it 'different' and he looked like he was holding his tongue about something. I wonder if there is some sort of inter-island antipathy going on here? Must dig further on this one. I asked if it was going to be significantly worse weather up their and he just blew out his cheeks and said it was all a bit pot luck really. He had a point, the microclimates around the island meant all weather forecasts were more or less meaningless and the best you can do is pack lots of jumpers and hope. He lived just over Burgar Hill a mile or two from the Broch and reckoned sometimes he could leave home in sun and discover and storm and gale at Gurness so...I saw his point.

Click mill next, a Viking vertical shaft mill like an automated quern stone. Again, free, in the middle of nowhere, had to hike across a field and let myself in, and no soul there. I liked it though - clever little system. The vikings were way more advanced than the picts, no wonder they kicked their asses.

Finally, as it was closing time at all the pay-for stuff and I'd done all the important free stuff, I went back to the Brough of Birdsay (low tide) to look at the broch, and finished off playing at Yesneby again, getting some nice sunset shots.

And now I'm sitting at Hatston
Terminal waiting for the ferry - no point going to Kirkwall as everything will be shut except the pubs and drinking would be a bad thing right now when I need to load a car onto a ferry. Indeed I think the thing may now be in port but my car is so crusted with salt and muck it's difficult to see.

Is it wrong to be excited about getting a proper bed tonight? (even if it is only for 7 hours). As to the Shetlands themselves? I really don't know what to expect any more so I guess I'll just have to turn up and see...wish me luck (especially with my phone signal - if it all goes wrong this may be the last you here from me until the 22nd...nah surely it's not THAT much of a backwater...)

By the way, what are the symptoms for having fluid build-up in the lung. I have a tightness in my chest on the left side and I want to work out if I've got tuberculosis/pseumonia or whether I just slept wrong last night.

It was another chilly night, though when I woke up in the middle of it for a pee I opened the tent to a beautiful full moon landscape not unlike that which might have greeted neolithic man at the door of his smoky roundhouse thousands of years ago. I sat for a while, watching the clouds move across the moon and strike halloweenesque poses - then went to the toilet block like neolithic man definately wouldn't have.

I'd booked myself on the first Rousay ferry out, expecting it to be heaving with tourists like the Hoy one was. Not so though, in the end there was only me and a couple of cyclists there which was unfortunate as I normally work out what to do by copying the guy in front. So I didn't know that with these tiny 9 car ferries you had to reverse into the boat until one of the crew told me. Going down a wet slipway backwards in a car, then up a clanky and slightly shifting gangway onto the boat - that was something I had to work out on the fly myself. I wouldn't fancy doing THAT with a caravan.

The journey was lovely. A tad shorter than the Hoy one and slightly more sheltered. I didn't have my destination Island looming over me muttering 'Feck off ye bastards' under its breath all the time either, Rousay seemed quite fluffy and welcoming. And I could smell something nice cooking in the ships cab, and the person collecting money offered me a student discount - everything seemed to be boding well for this trip.

Mind you, I say that but I didn't get what he was saying at first. 'Schtood-ah!' he growled at me and I looked blank. 'Schtood-ah!' he demanded of me again and I considered bursting into tears. This is the one thing that really bugs me about Orcadians, if you don't undertand, they don't help you at all by adding a little context round the word like 'Are ye a schtood-ah?', they just keep barking said random word at you until you work it out. Like the woman in the Co-op the other day who kept saying 'Kishba!' at me and expecting me to reply. I was almost tempted to reply in French or make up a similarly nonsensical word and say this back at her but she wouldn't proceed until she got the correct reponse, and kept saying this word at me - kishba. I looked around me for possible context...she was processing my card payment. 'Oh! Cash back?' I finally guessed and she nodded frantically. All sorted but a simple 'Di ye woan't kishba?' would have helped. Bah.

Oh and this is one of only three places in the world where I sound posh. The other two are America ('gee is that an Ingerlish accent? Ain't that so cute') and Wigan.

Anyway, back to the Rousay ferry. Another great thing about the journey was - and I can barely believe I was lucky enough to see this but - half way during the crossing I saw a Sea Eagle attack a gull! Some sort of bird type fracas caught my eye, and then it became clear that this big brown bird with white wing tips was trying to pull a gull out of mid air. When the gull managed to out run it, it gave up and did a low swoop over the sea, trailing its claws in the water. Then it flew off a short distance, met another eagle, and they did a little dance together in the air before flying off together. Like, wow man! I saw another couple of eagles of a cliff edge a bit later so clearly Rousay and her straits are eagle central.

I half hoped I would get to see locals waiting at the Rousay ferry terminal ready for a day's commute to the mainland, but there wasn't anyone there. Feasibly one van on it's way down as I drove away (looked like a local) but otherwise, nothing. How come big unfriendly Hoy gets all the visitors and friendly rural Rousay does not? I don't get it. From the hill at the top of the ferry stop, I watched the ferry back out of the tiny little harbour, do an 180 degree turn then go straight across a much shorter strait to Egilsay, a 5 min journey with likely as not no waiting passengers at that jetty either. Rousay was already feeling like the back of beyond and I hadn't even strayed from the harbour yet.

Midhowe cairn was first on the agenda. The carpark was completely empty so I feared that it might be shut because it was too early in the morning, but that's not how things work on Rousay. On this island, all its precious cairns have been enclosed in hefty protective buildings but none of them are locked, so you can pad around these structures quietly at whatever time of the day, and shut up after yourself when you are done. It feels a bit like letting yourself into a church and looking around, or like you have just broken into a museum after hours and are having a look around on your own. It's quite nice, if a little spooky.

Midhowe is protected by a subtancial stone barn with big thick doors - but you let yourself in and find this marvellous chambered cairn inside with gangways over the top of it so you can look in. And there are no screaming kids running around or anyone else getting in the way, it's just the sound of your footsteps and the wind howling over the roof of the barn. Its a very sublime experience - you can really concentrate on what it must have been like to be there at the time.

Midhowe broch is just next door. Brochs are huge hyper fortified Viking stone huts - walls which are feet thick with steps in them so you can run up the interior to the top, where presumably you can stand and shout rude names down at your aggressors until they decide to go away and pillage elsewhere. It was okay. I wouldn't say no to a Broch at the bottom of the garden to skulk in but only if they were on sale or something. Otherside a shed would do fine.

And on the shore just below the broch, tourists had been doing ad hoc henges as I've seen all around Orkney (I first saw a knee high henge on the beach next to Scara Brae and thought 'oh that's clever' and I've been seeing them all over the place since). I had to join in so I built myself a little mini chambered cairn and even put a couple of bones in it (gull probably). I'm wondering if people will be excavating again in another millenium and trying to work out why all sorts of ancient Orkney stone age sites are surrounded by lots of tiny little replica henges. 'Offering to the Gods' they'll probaby say. 'Ceremonial'.

After Midhowe, I drove to a beach which was meant to have a 'sandy sheltered bay with nearby seal haul out area'. The beach was sandy and sheltered only by Orkney standards (it was a mere two jumperer). I was dying to see a seal haul out area, but walked a few hundred metres down the beach and saw nothing except a group of testy oyster catchers and a bit of washed up boat.

Just as I was about to give up though, I spotted a grey head sticking up out of the sea, and them soon after, a seal dragged itself up out of the water only a short distance away from me and proceeded to bask in the sun. Another beached its self a distance further out to sea on some exposed rock, and another couple of grey heads remained bobbing up and down in the water as the sunbathers watched. It was really nice to watch. I stayed until my fingers started to turn white, then moved on.

The Knowe of Yarso is another cairn sheltered away from the weather by a big concrete dome which has then been grassed over to not wreck the landscape. This chambered cairn felt small and personal. Because I was the only one there it almost felt like I was intruding and should be apologising to someone so I did, just in case. Then I stood around for a reasonable length of time soaking up the atmosphere - there was definately a vibe to this cairn, but a good one, I liked it.

Blackhammer cairn - much the same again only you enter from the roof and a sliding metal door, then go down some steels steps to get to the long low chambered cairn. This one felt less personal though it was bigger that Yarso.

Finally, Taversoe Tuick - much the same again only it is on two levels and you decend down into the second level via some wobbly metal steps. Then you can sit in a dark hole where bodies and bones were once piled up, and hope that the door doesn't blow shut and trap you in because the next tourist to come along could be quite a while and I imagine it can get very creepy there at night.

Yep, I spent a full day on Rousay and never saw a soul. It was wierd and unexpected - I guess cairns just aren't a big enough draw for your average tourist, they need guides and interpretive centres and tea shops before they'll consider the ferry journey. And I thought that the tourists round here were tougher than that. I'd been looking at all the names in the museum visitors books yesterday and the majority were Scottish or Shetlandic, hardly any poofy Unglish. They should have been crawling over the cairns in droves.

On the ferry journey back, I finally had some companions. There were two other cars (so at no point had this tiny weeny ferry been full to capacity yet, or even half full) and one elderly lady, quite genteel looking, who was waved off at the pier and had a huge suitcase with her. It crossed my mind she might be going on holiday somewhere, and how troublesome that would be if e.g. you wanted to go to America and you were a Rousay resident. Ferry to mainland Orkney, taxi to Kirkwall airport, plane to mainland UK, flight to America. I can see why you can get into the Island mentality that anything beyond your immediate borders isn't worth knowing about. Indeed if there are only three ferries per day from your 20km Island to the mainland it makes things a bit of a fag and you'll start minimising the amount of times you do it, even if that's just for bread, milk and petrol. Before you know it, the last time you ventured more than 5 miles from your doorstep was 23 years ago and you weren't aware the Falklands war had ended. It's easy done.

I finished off the day with Stromness museum. It's a lovely little place, more of a reference library than a museum with hoary handed fishermen in there looking up their ancestors side by side with bored tourists killing time before the ferry home. It had a stuffed animal section so I revised my knowledge of seabirds. Have to admit I was confusing my snipes with rails, but my plovers, oyster catchers, curlews, shags, guillemots, skewers and shearwaters are still in order. I've always had trouble telling different species of gull apart, but I think that's forgivable.

There was one particular bird I was after but they didn't have any in the museum - I have been seeing something around which looks like a really big gull, I mean a REALLY big gull with wings out straight like someone had glued a plank on its back and painted it black. And I saw one trying to take off from the water - it was at it ages, running along the water surface and flapping like crazy, it had the takeoff profile of a jumbo jet. All I can think of is albatross but that feels wrong somehow - I thought they were mid ocean birds not cliff/loch birds. I can't think of anything else that big and cumbersome though but I'm sure I'll find the answer out eventually.

Alas it will be time to pack up and leave Evie tomorrow. I've been here so long, nature has started to integrate with my tent - grass is growing round it, beetles are living in it, I have small mushrooms in my vestibule and lichen will soon be forming on the lee side of it. There is a tiny bit of relief I'm going because yesterday someone erected one of those 20ft tents that are meant to sleep 18 people, and in it they have hoards of 2 year olds who run around screaming and falling over your guy ropes, then wailing about it. And having no phone reception at Evie has been a pain, but I suspect that's only going to get worse in Shetland so I may as well get used to it

Otherwise though, it's been a grand little place. Next stop - an overnight cabin on the ferry to Shetland (oh bliss) and as I am running short of socks, I think I'll spend the first night someplace with a washing machine, then head off into the true wilds of Unst and Eshaness. Wouldn't mind having a crack at getting to Foula and/or Fair Isle too but this could be ambitious with the time I have available. With any luck though, all the Shetlanders are in Orkney on holiday so things should be nice and quiet.

Of course as the ferry doesn't set off til quarter to midnight though, so I guess I better line up some entertainment for tomorrow as well. But should I do cliffs or should I do brochs and museums again. Tough choice...we'll have to see which way the wind blows me...