Update 1: Kirkwall to Clythness Lighthouse

Spoilers: Jay fell in a river.

We can’t believe that only six days ago we were in Newcastle preparing for this pilgrimage. To get to Kirkwall, we had to get the ferry from Aberdeen, so we spent the Friday night in Newcastle with some of Jay’s friends. On Saturday morning we went to the local parish church where the vicar very kindly offered a Eucharist and blessed us and our kit. We then set out on the long journey up to Kirkwall.

Unfortunately, the trains in Scotland are just as bad as they are in England, and we found ourselves on a train to Aberdeen that was cancelled, while we were on it. This meant that we were certain to miss the ferry. Anna phoned the ferry company to appraise them of our situation, and a while later a man rang us back to say that he'd phoned the bridge and we MIGHT make the ferry… if we ran! When the train pulled in to Aberdeen at 4.29pm (the ferry was due to leave at 4.30) we were stood at the doors like sprinters at the starting blocks (but with bags bigger than our torsos). We ran through the train station-cum-shopping centre and upon exiting, as we sprinted across five lanes of traffic, we spotted two girls (with much smaller bags) also running for the ferry. All four of us collapsed onto the check in counter, desperate to know if we’d missed the ferry whose engine we could hear starting up. Thankfully, we had JUST made it, and as soon as we were handed our tickets we sprinted up the gangway, yelled at by irate sailors ready to leave without us.

On the ferry, we discovered that Jay gets sea sick, despite the crossing being relatively smooth. He wasn’t actually sick, but felt better sitting outside, so we prayed evening prayer on the top deck, out of sight of land, with nothing but the swirling dark ocean surrounding us.

When we arrived in Kirkwall it was still twilight despite being 11pm. We met our first host Ceri (and Bet the dog) and got our first glimpse of St Magnus Cathedral as we walked past it to her house.

After a decent night’s sleep, we went to the cathedral for the morning Eucharist. It was much smaller than their main service, but was welcoming and intimate. It felt like a very special way to start our journey proper, sat in a circle around a table laid with bread and wine.

The generous Orcadian hospitality continued as Rosemary, who had given a wonderful reflection at the Eucharist, offered to drive our bags to St Margaret’s Hope. For a moment, we considered declining with the desire to be “hardcore pilgrims” floating in our minds, but eventually (and thankfully) accepted.

With light day bags on our backs, we began our walk through Orkney. Unfortunately, it turns out that most people don’t walk THOUGH Orkney, but around it via the beautiful costal trails that litter the islands. This meant that the first day of our pilgrimage, despite being in one of the most beautiful places on earth, was mostly on main roads (without a footpath). Luckily, we were accompanied by Ceri, who pointed out many of the beautiful things the island had to offer, even from the main road, and told us about the wildlife and lore of the island. (Much to Anna’s dismay, we missed Whale sightings on Orkney by one day.)

As we arrived in St Margaret’s Hope our next host, Marjory, was waiting for us on the street corner. When we asked how she knew we were about to arrive, she smiled and said “every islander has a pair of binoculars — they are rarely trained on the wildlife, and more usually on the neighbours or the road.” We were shown to our rooms, and Marjory offered to do our laundry while we showered and got ready for dinner. We didn’t have much but thought it would be worth it (three days later, reflecting on this, Jay believes he owes the Blesséd Marjory MacLean his life and sanity for that extra pair of clean pants.) Over a lovely meal, we talked with Ceri and Marjory about queer faith on the Orkney island. All of the hospitality we received on Orkney was thanks to the organizing power of the LGBT+ faith Whatsapp group.

On Monday we had to get another early ferry off the island (vowing to return another time and see the islands properly). Marjory had not only made us breakfast but also lunch, and saw us off with a blessing outside her door. We caught the second ferry without having to run. Despite reading about all the incredible wildlife you can see in the Pentland Firth, Anna only saw two jellyfish and a seagull. Jay was seasick again, so only saw the seagull.

There was a beautiful blue sky in Gill’s Bay as we began our last stretch of road walking for a while on our way to John O’Groats, where we would begin the John O’Groats trail to Inverness. Weirdly enough, we bumped into two men who were responsible for developing the John O’Groats trail. After a quick chat about what we were doing and why, they pointed us in the direction of a new pathway that got us off the road and to John O’Groats. Once there, Anna discovered she’d left her toothpaste in Orkney (all the more distressing because Jay had left his toothpaste at home because Anna had promised they could share toothpaste). We discovered that while you can buy a lot of strange things at the tourist hotspot that is the coast of John O’Groats, none of those things are toothpaste.

After lingering for a while at what is allegedly the mainlands most Northern point, we headed North, to the UK mainlands actual most Northern point. We didn't get a photo of this because we were too busy watching six to eight members of the coastguard saving a stranded sheep. If you’ve never seen a sheep on a quad bike, please refer to the video below.

We ate lunch overlooking the Duncansby stacks, and said midday prayer. The beauty of this place was a good indication of what was to come.

After we passed the Duncansby stacks we only saw one other walker, and for long stretches there was nothing but heathery marshes to our right and the sea to our left. We completed the day walking 14 miles to Nybster and saw many more beautiful views and spotted lots of Oystercatchers, Cormorants and Curlews near the stacks.

The weather the next day was absolute bliss. We awoke to a perfect blue sky and sun glittering on the ocean. The trail took us past 2000 year old brochs, the ruins of Old Keiss Castle and down to Sinclair’s Bay.

For most of the day we were walking through dunes or on the beach itself, where we had lunch in glorious weather while Jay treated Anna to a 40 minute rant about how much he “f****** hates sand”.

The weather was a particular blessing, because later on that day, Jay fell into a river. The river in question cut across the beach, and to go around it would have added just over a mile, so following the example of some Swedes walking in the opposite direction, we decided to take our shoes off and walk through knee high (thigh high on Jay) waters. Anna glided across effortlessly like an angelic swan. Jay followed suit, and halfway across shouted “Anna, take a picture”. No sooner had the words left his mouth, he fell sideways into the water. Unfortunately, Anna wasn't quick enough to take a picture, and while the Swedish man she had been discussing the route with expressed much concern, she just laughed. Once we dried off and put our boots back on, and Jay hung his wet pants and trousers off the back of his backpack (photo attached) we set off towards Wick, veering onto the main road in order to get to The Big Tesco.

With this pilgrimage being about reaching sites of spiritual significance, we cannot express how significant to our spirits that Big Tesco was. Upon seeing the sign after a long day of walking, and at that point with empty stomachs and full bladders, we almost wept with joy. Jay bought a single packet of fruit pastels and ate all of them barefoot on the bench outside like a feral animal, while Anna bought food and water for the next day (and toothpaste).

We stopped again in Wick Harbour where we ate fish and chips for tea, and then walked on a couple of miles, past the Castle of Old Wick, until we found a spot by a sea stack where we could pitch our tent. As we put up the tent, we paused to watch Starlings trace their murmurations across the pink and orange streaked evening sky.

The fine weather lured us into a false sense of security, and that evening a strong wind was a portent of what was to come. Overnight it started raining, and didn’t stop for a little over 24 hours. The terrain was difficult - hilly, close to the cliff edge, with regular scrambles over or under barbed wire where styles had collapsed. We decided to cut through Sarclet, and as Jay paused to lie down and elevate his feet, a local walking her dog came over, concerned that he had collapsed. Anna assured her he was just resting, and chatted to her for a while. The dog walker, called Wendy, invited us in for tea and a chance to warm up by the fire, which we gladly accepted.

After spending some time chatting with Wendy and her partner, David, drinking hot drinks and fussing over Pip the dog, we set off again in the now very heavy rain. Later on that day, the wind off the sea forced the rain through our waterproofs and soon we were soaked to the skin.

Rain makes everything worse, and walking along a cliff edge is no acception. It also made it hard to pause or rest because stopping simply meant getting cold. We had hoped to get to Lysbter that day, however we realized the cold and wet was becoming dangerous and set the nearby lighthouse as our goal. We arrived at the lighthouse, quicky set up the tent, got into some dry clothes and heated up some water for our dinner.

It was an extremely challenging day, but we learnt a lot about accepting hospitality from strangers (we would have reached out limits a lot earlier had it not been for Wendy and David), noticing how our behaviour towards one another changes under pressure, and the power of a timely hug to get you through the day.