Islands in the Sun
Created | Updated Jul 11, 2003
An Introduction to Orkney
Orkney can be found on your map either above mainland Scotland, or occupying its habitual place in the bottom right corner of your map, lurking in a mysterious box. Either way, there it is, a tiny little arcipeligo of 72 islands, smaller than the city of London. That's all you need to know about it.
Prejudice. Bigotry. Narrow-mindedness. Racism.
It's all as true as the tourist-view, that blind view of green, rolling fields, silver beaches and peaceful life. A tourist will see all that, all the beauty, but they will miss the inhabitants' attitudes. Behind those peaceful lives and faces dwell unpleasant beliefs and inbuilt hatred.
It's all true of Orkney, my home for 11 of my 14 years. A cramped little archipelago, barely showing up as a speck of dust on any world map, settled above mainland Britain. No motorways, no cities, no department stores - to many it seems idyllic.
But my personal belief is that Orkney suffers from the swelled self-importance and localised patriotism Great Britain cultivates. Not only should incomers beware, but also so should a family moving from island to island there, or even from East to West. I feel that Orcadians think one should stay put and be happy with it. There is rivalry between the two main towns, Kirkwall and Stromness, rivalry between larger islands such as Westray and Sanday and rivalry between North and South.
Drink culture is also rife. With little to do on long dark winter nights one resorts to alcoholic pleasures. The highlight of many residents' lives is the weekend binge. Drugs seem to have given Orkney a wide berth, although in recent years 'the habit' has grown.
These beliefs of mine are almost certainly unfounded. They are based on the pure hell I endured as an English incomer in one of the islands. The main problem, I would say, was being treated like something unpleasant scraped from the sole of a shoe. I'm not just talking about bullying, that was bad enough, but it was the indignity of excluded from the social life, the feeling of being totally unwanted by the island, and the unwillingness of many of the staff of the local school to help.
That is why I formed those almost certainly biased and grossly generalised views. I shouldn't, because, I know there to be to sides to everything and I know Orkney to be a beautiful area of scenic vistas and coastal wonders - it is fantastic.
There are 72 islands in the archipelago, mostly uninhabited. Although there are only 20,000 inhabitants, most populated islands have schools - the largest with 900 pupils, the smallest with 5. The largest town has 7000 inhabitants, and yet there are islands hosting a family of two.
Most of the action takes place on the Mainland, occasionally and much to the locals' displeasure known as Hrossay, but here the pace is still slow and docile. There are no traffic jams, save the occasional flock of sheep or herd of cattle moving fields. The highlight of a family's year may be a day trip to Inverness for five hours of shopping, yet many people have never left Orkney, or even their own island. An extravagant holiday is to take a week on another island, say Westray, Rousay or Hoy.
Orkney also, as guidebooks so readily quote, has much historical interest. During both World Wars the body of water south of Scapa Flow was an important naval base. There was a prisoner-of-war camp here - Italians mainly, and they built the beautiful catholic 'Italian Chapel' from two bomb shelters, bully beef tins and paint. Another war construction was the 'Churchill barriers', linking most of the southern isles.
Farther back in time there is the prehistoric village of Scara Brae, uncovered by wind in late Victorian times, and neolithic monuments such as the stone circle at Brodgar and the (possible) tomb of Maes Howe.
Here in Orkney there is so much we take for granted. From taking a boat to go to school (there are only two full Secondary schools, one of which you must leave at age 16), to almost total countryside, the way of life here is incomprehensible and unexplainable to others.
With hindsight, I have been far too harsh on the place. It can be a lovely place to visit and a pleasant place to live.
