Beagling with the Radley College Pack

Well another weekend in the country, another chance to spend time with hounds! I had a treat this week to be invited to join the Radley College Beagles from Oxfordshire as they hunted the territory around Long Clawson (where the Belvoir Hunt opening meet was last weekend-see the last entry). So Jerrilee, the nursing professor, needed no coaxing after witnessing the Belvoir Hunt to get back in the car and drive us to our first day out with beagles.

Now you should know that Radley College is a prestigious boarding school for second form boys who start there when they are 14 and finish by 17 so it's a bit like a private high school. Students then go on to university (as I have now learned, mostly to Oxford, Cambridge, Durham, Bristol, Edinburgh, and Exeter). Radley is also one of three schools that still maintain a beagle pack (Eton being one of the remaining two). Two of the boys are from this village so they were invited to bring the pack and hunt this territory for a day. As you can see from the first picture, we had quite a turn out for noon on a Friday. A couple of young children, some boys in their early teens, and plenty of old timers, all of whom came prepared with some of the most lovely walking sticks you can imagine.

As with all such country pursuits, tradition mandates that a host offer his guests refreshments. So here is John and his wife (she has her back to the camera) offering glasses of port to all and sundry.

A young blonde boy (perhaps their son) followed up with delicious sausages fresh from the oven! Unlike Saturday's meet with the Belvoir, when the port was handed around in plastic cups out of small cardboard boxes, John poured out into proper glasses and offered them to us on a tray. Ahh...civilization! As you can see, there were plenty of bottles of port to go through before we did anything else!

There were the usual hunt formalities of course. The Master (at 15 years old) thanked the farmers and landowners who opened their fields to the pack and followers. He greeted all the guests and of course thanked John and his wife for extending the invitation to come and hunt there. The we were away! The Master and his whips took the hounds across the road and into the pasture. As you can see from the picture. They just do what foxhounds would do except beagle packs are used to hunt hares typically (though no hares were going to be hunted today...this too is illegal under the Hunting ban). And for those of you unfamiliar with this kind of hunting, it is like a foxhunt without the fox and without horses. The field (spectators) follow on foot. So when I was warned to wear running shoes, they weren't kidding. Those beagles took off and after a bit of circling this first pasture, they picked up the scent and headed through and over the hedges at full cry. And when they run, they really go fast!

The followers on foot did our best to keep up but it was a losing battle. The best we could manage was to stay put and see where the hounds would run next and then head in that direction. But then those darned hounds would run right back in the direction we had just come and so back we went. The hounds occasionally startled the herd of cows you can see in the picture and they started a bit of a stampede. But then we figured out what those walking sticks were for! Those old timers just stepped right in front of those cows and held up their sticks and the cows stopped. Jerrilee and I were not so brave in the face of a scared bunch of cattle!

Occasionally we would have a glimpse of the pack in a field but before too long they were way off in the distance. The funny thing was everytime we looked up we saw another hare (and these were big hares!) tearing off in the opposite direction from the hounds. But did those hounds notice? Nope! They just kept barrelling forward! Hares 1 Beagles 0.

After two hours, the Master brought the pack back in but this was just a bit of a break. Despite looking more than a little hot and sweaty trying to keep up with their hounds, the Radley Master and staff headed them off in the opposite direction for the second half of thier day. At this point we decided to head back, having had a brilliant afternoon. If we had held out for another two hours, we would have been invited to a post-hunt tea. I regret not doing that but we did enjoy the day and we met some very great people including John and his wife, the hunt hosts. What a great sport for these boys too! We need more such things in our schools back home!

Belvoir Hunt Opening Meet

This weekend was a classic fall day in Lincolnshire, a misty grey Saturday that gave way to a picture perfect blue-sky Sunday. It was also the weekend for the opening Meet of the Belvoir Hunt which, as you can see from these pictures, took place on the grey Saturday. Jerrilee, a nursing professor from University of Evansville and I borrowed a car and headed to Long Clawson for the Meet. It was a lovely village. The parish church of St. Regimus was perched on a small hill amid falling leaves and an extensive church yard. The color of the stone was a beautiful burnt gold and made a perfect match for the autumn colors of the trees.

We arrived a little early so got to witness the gathering of the community as well as the riders. The Hunt traditionally held their opening meet in front of the Crown and Plough in the village center. For the first time, they had to break tradition due to increased car traffic through the village so met in a small field in front of the village hall. It was a much more suitable location in some ways. As you can see in the picture, there was quite a big turn out of people just to witness the meet. People brought their kids and dogs. There were "Meet Hosts," families from the village who's job it was to bring refreshments. So suddenly there were people wandering by with baskets full of sausage rolls, small pizzas, and lots of other goodies that I couldn't quite see. Port was offered round to riders and spectators alike and was much appreciated as the cool wet breeze picked up. I would guess there may have been as many as 200 people there just as spectators. The mounted field was down a little according to some so that meant there were approximately 75-80 riders out for the day's hunt. Still that's easily three or four times the size of Traders Point Hunt.

The field also included some very adorable new riders. One little girl was amazing. She was two years old and this was her first time out! She put her head down just as I took a picture but trust me, she had rosy cheeks and blue eyes. She was so cute in her hunting kit too...she was the hit of the Meet. I think there were probably at least six or seven kids under ten riding this day including the picture above with the young boy on his horse next to the Master.

I love the picture below. It was a lovely line of the Field sipping their port and chatting away about the day's ride. I really want to know how the woman in the middle of the picture managed to get her horse so white! I can't imagine Bristol ever looking quite that good but I guess I have a goal to achieve now!

Then there were the hounds. Fifteen and a half couple of the most friends foxhounds I have ever met. They were wandering through the crowd. Kids were desperate to try to get close to them to pet them only to be a little scared when the hounds tried to jump on them. I of course loved every minute of it. There I am, port in hand, making friends. And once you started, those hounds were not keen for you to stop! They kept vying for my attention and scratching abilities. I sadly never quite got their names. I heard one called Poacher but that was it.

Shortly after 11 am, the Master stood up in his stirrups and addressed the Field, passing on an overview of the day's ride, where they will change to second horses, and standard instructions like taking care not to disturb livestock, etc. He thanked all the landowners and everyone else for coming out in support that day. It was a neat moment.

With that formality done, Rupert asked for "Hounds, Please!" and the huntsman and whips got the pack moving with the Master taking center stage. The Field followed close behind and they were off for a grand day's ride. Most of the spectators were off as well. They usually follow the hunt in a line of cars and a few on bikes. Apparently the Hunt would be taking a spectacular hedge at one point that was five feet high and five feet wide. I was told to come along and see how many riderless horses were left in the Field after that! We didn't follow as amazing as that would have been to see. The rain started up again so, to honor the past, we went to the Crown and Plough for lunch and to raise our glasses to the Belvoir and the Duke of Rutland's Hounds! Here's to the pack!

Jim's visit to Harlaxton

Well, after two months, I can't express how wonderful it was to have Jim step out of the arrivals gate at Heathrow last Wednesday! It seems like forever since I seen him even though we skype twice a day. He was finally here and everything was once again right with the world. We made our way back into London and on to Kings Cross Station to get him back to Harlaxton. As everyone is, he was more than a bit amazed at the manor in all its glory when he could see it for himself. I didn't subject him to eating in the refectory that night however so we wandered down the lane to the Gregory for a light dinner then back again so he could finally get some sleep.

No rest for the wicked however. The next morning we were up, breakfasted, and then off to Stamford for our tour of Burghley House, the home of the Earls of Exeter since 1587 or so. It is a beautiful Elizabethan manor that I didn't get to see when I was there for the Burghley Horse Trials. Burghley House is something of a model for what Gregory Gregory aspired to build here at Harlaxton but only managed to do in the hints and suggestions of the architecture.

The house itself was exquisite but sadly photography was not allowed inside. We were there on a Thursday just after noon so we basically had the place to ourselves. This included the docents stationed in each room. We heard everything they could tell us and we were able to ask lots of questions. The tour started in the old kitchens. These were unbelieveable. They had a mechanical spit (though it would have been a young boy's job to keep the meat turning once upon a time) operating as it would have done in front of the giant hearth. There were giant copper pots and platters, some of which were easily over a meter long. There were turtle skulls hung along the wall, a copper basin for cooking the sea turtles, and a copper turtle soup tureen for the soup that would have been served regularly at dinner. You can imagine that I was in heaven.

The tour took you through the bell room where the servants could see where they were needed and by whom then up to the chapel and on to a series of rooms, each grander than the last. There were so many paintings that they actually had a very helpful guide book just to tell you what was hanging in each room.
For those of you back in Indianapolis, if you see Jim, he will tell you about the Heaven and Hell rooms. These were done floor-to-ceiling in murals depicting, in one case, the pantheon of Olympus, with so many stories from ancient mythology, that I intend to find a compendium of them so I can remember who all the characters were. In the next room, the murals were those of hell and leviathan. It was a bit like Dante's inferno along with all of the ancient myths related to the underworld. It made us want to just lay on the floor and try to absorb all the individual scenes represented.

Jim and I had a lovely lunch in the orangery before heading out to see a bit of the gardens just outside. The picture of Jim in front of the reflecting pool gives you a sense for the fall beauty of this small garden, made especially dramatic with the red ivy growing up the walls of the great hall.

We headed back to catch the afternoon train back toward Grantham but stopped into the George Hotel in Stamford before we did so. This is a hotel built in 1597 by Lord William Cecil (the builder of Burghley) and is a lovely Elizabethan inn with oak paneling everywhere and as you can see in the picture, a lovely trolley of cakes and sweets for those coming for tea. We both decided that we needed to come back and stay overnight there sometime.

From Stamford back to Lincoln last Friday so Jim could see the Cathedral and the reminents of Roman Britain that pepper the city. I only rushed through the cathedral on my visit last month so I enjoyed being able to take a more leisurely stroll through.

In the photo of the cathedral nave, you can see the mistake in the building design that was only discovered as the walls went up. If you follow the line along the roof (it's spine) toward the rose window, you can see the spot where they must have realized that they were out of alignment and needed to shift the stones over. So it is not perfectly in alignment. Oops!

There was a funeral that was about to take place for an old member of the Cathedral so Jim and I were allowed just a brief moment to duck into the quire to take a picture and to look at the beautiful carvings. By the time we made it back down the nave, the organist started playing a prelude and we heard the choir sing a short motet or psalm. It was just lovely. Sadly evensong doesn't start until 6:30 pm so we weren't able to stay for that.

One last story about the Lincoln trip...in an effort to save some money, we decided to take a bus from Grantham which takes a little longer but it drives you through all the lovely villages along the way. This was all well and good on the way up. On the way home however, our first stop before leaving Lincoln saw 30-40 school kids get on the bus, all on their way home. They went to the Priory Academy which I assume was a prepratory school. Much to our relief, the kids were all very well behaved, respectful, and quiet. They piled off a few at a time as we went out of Lincoln. About half way back to Grantham, we stopped at a high school and another set of students got on. These were mostly boys and they were loud and rather obnoxious, throwing their backpacks around and shouting rude words at each other across the bus. We were in school bus hell and could only pray that they would get off asap. We were never so relieved as when we got back to Grantham and could get back on the Harlaxton shuttle! What an amazing experience of British youth!

The day was redeemed however by the fact that we managed to get dinner reservations at Harry's Place in Great Gonerby, just a mile or so outside of Grantham. This restaurant is run by a husband and wife out of their Georgian house on the high street and has room for ten people at any one time. The husband is the chef and his wife runs the front of the house. They are books ages out but called me out of the blue to say that a table had opened up for this night so Jim and I decided we'd celebrate our 18th anniversary with dinner there. We got there and a table of six was just starting their first course and other table of two was having their order taken. Then Caroline turned her attention to us, bringing us a lovely bottle of St. Aubin white burgundy and then came to get our order. So this is how the place ran. Everyone's reservations were staggered so each table was one course ahead of the next table. As it turned out on this night, everyone was celebrating...birthdays at the other two tables and our anniversaries.

The food was glorious and the best I have had since being here (not such a surprise given the Harlaxton refectory food-moan, moan, moan). There was a choice of two starters, main courses, and puddings. We started with a cream of celeriac soup with sage breadcrumbs sprinkled over the top. My main course was filleted loin of venison in a lovely wine and herb sauce and Jim had wild Scotish halibut. Delicious roasties came in a bowl for both of us. For pudding, we shared a prune and armagnac ice crea with a passion fruit sauce. Wow! I loved every bite of it all! At the end, Harry came out of the kitchen and chatted with each table. I may have to try to go back for lunch one more time before I leave. And on a side note, the family of six that was there also provided some interesting conversation as they were overheard discussing butlers and who they though were they best they had ever had! Ah those wacky Brits.

Saturday, we were heading back to London to stay with Michael and Todd overnight before Jim had to return to the states. We wandered around the grounds of the manor so Jim could see all the terraces and the various views back across the Belvoir Vale on this cool crisp morning as the sun peaked out from under the clouds and hit the land as it sweeps down from the manor. It was lovely.

I couldn't resist taking a picture of my Leo Jim by one of the many lions scattered around the Harlaxton gardens. I think they bear a strong resemblance to each other don't you?

It was a lovely morning to be out wandering the grounds with Jim but we both were sorry that it was to be his last day. Christmas is only two months away and he will be back but it still seems like a lifetime!

A Hunting Interlude

Hello friends! Sorry to be away from the blog for awhile but it is now midterm at Harlaxton and the papers and exams are flowing in now. In addition to that, Jim came for a visit last week and we spent every moment on the go showing him the sights around Lincolnshire. More about that later.

I thought I'd break with talking about life on this side of the pond to include a few pictures that Jim took of this years Blessing of the Hounds and Opening Meet of the Traders Point Hunt back home. Sigh! I wish I could have been there to hear the horns and to hear my own priest, the Reverend Nancy Ferriani conduct the service of blessing and distribution of St. Hubert medals.

It looks like the day was picture perfect for the occasion and the Hunt House looked suitably dressed as well. In the picture below, you can see Nancy blessing the pack while the Hunt staff, Tom, Cindy, and Lu try to keep those hounds all together.

The terrific picture below is of Huntsman Lu Hamilton surrounded by the faithful TPH pack...all in one place for a change! I wish I had been there!

The opening meet of the Belvoir Hunt is this coming Saturday. They expect a field of well over 100 riders and they will have second horses to change to for a full days ride across their hunt territory. I'll be there to raise the stirrup cup and toast horse, hound, and rider, wishing them and my own hunt members many grand days out this season! Tally Ho!

Warwick Castle

"Fetchez la vache!" says the french knight after taunting King Arthur and his silly English Ka-niggets before he catapults a cow over the wall of a castle wall in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Well we weren't too far off from that scene when a spontaneous invitation came along to join three of my colleagues on a road trip to Warwickshire to visit Warwick Castle which rumour has it was the castle in that scene of the film. Well, even if it wasn't, the grand castle, home of the Earls of Warwick for over 800 years, did feel a tad like wandering around that movie with lots of people pretending to be medieval lords, ladies, jesters and the like.

This stately home seemed to have been redone by Disney and clearly trying to appeal to a pre-adolescent audience by milking poor parents 7.50 pounds extra to go through the Dungeon (all done up like a haunted house) and "the Princess Tower" in which young girls could wear princess costumes for while. Sigh! I made the best of it and focused on the more interesting bits, like the state rooms and the private apartments. However, these too were dressed up as tableaux with wax figures in costumes of various periods doing things in various rooms. So there was good old Henry VIII and his six wives in one room. Regency era women in another. And, heaven help us, an awful likeness of HRM Queen Elizabeth II, standing in the state dining room because she came to visit the castle once in 1996! Oy!

The private apartments depicted the edwardian era where the figures were of the past Earl and Countess of Warwick entertaining friends for a country house weekend. Here things got a little more "Upstairs, Downstairs" since we learned about the servants and the exotic goings-on between Lady Daisy and her many male liasons. I'm not sure what we were to make of the Dowager Duchess of Devonshire sipping tea or the Earl's butler eternally pouring water from a copper kettle into his bath (basically a fountain like you'd have in your yard). Ah well, there were still some interesting things to see. There was plenty of armor in the great hall and as you can see in the picture above, there were a couple of men in armor on horseback that drew alot of picture taking from the crowds.

A little further on, there were some splendid rooms with lovely paintings. The ones that you see here are of past Earls and Countesses of Warwick of course. However, there were also several Van Dyck paintings, some of Charles I and Charles II, portraits of Queen Anne, and many others. One room was Queen Anne's and it had her bed and three of the most amazing medieval tapestries I have ever seen. In fact, one covered the full length of the wall behind me as I was focused on the bed and until I heard a tour guide walk past and mention this rarity to his group, I would never have turned around to look at it.

In the picture below, which was taken from on top of the mound that is the last remnant of the original castle build shortly after the Norman Conquest on orders from William the Conquerer. The view of the landscape that follows is the view from the old battlements to the southwest. Although it can't quite be seen here, they had a giant ("the world's biggest") catapult that they apparently flung things with for the benefit of the tourists every two hours or so. Sadly we never got to see if they flung a cow!

I've included a picture of my traveling companions who are pictured gallantly trying to remove a baby sword from a stone, also on top of the old battlements. In the background, you can see the spire of St. Mary's Church, Warwick, founded by the Beauchamp family and later became the burial place for the Grenville family (the Warwicks). There were some rather more interesting things there to be honest. There was a Lady chapel that still had alot of its 14th century stained glass, the base of a dunking stool which had been in the crypt of the church for over 200 years, and the tombs of the Dudley family from the Elizabethan era. If you saw any of the many movies made about Elizabeth I, you may remember that Robert Dudley. Earl of Leicester, was the Queen's favorite, often depicted as her secret lover, despite the fact that he was married.

The last view shows the back side of the castle with the river and the mill wheel which provided the electricity for the castle when it that became possible in the early 1900s. The old mill house, that you can't see to the right of this picture, became the engine house, and there was quite a good exhibit discussing the transition to gas lighting and then to electricity in the castle. The electric lights were such a novelty, the Earl and Countess hosted a "Bal Poudre," or a Powder Ball, where all the guests dressed as if they were at the court of Marie Antionette with great powdered wigs and of course plenty of jewels.

Three days in the Orkneys

Well it is difficult to put into words just how awesome the last few days traveling around the Orkney Islands (just the mainland actually) has been. These islands have been inhabited for over 10,000 years and you can't move far in any direction without stumbling across evidence of that fact. There are over 5000+ Neolithic sites in these Islands and I along with a political science colleague and her husband saw eleven of them. And unlike magestic Stonehenge, these are sitting in farmers' fields, on cliff edges, and along the road where you are free (and encouraged) to explore them, walk in and around them, and to touch them with only the direction to follow common courtesy and not disturb livestock or leave gates open. It was the trip of a lifetime.

It was a trip that began last Wednesay when we headed off by train to London and from there we flew through Edinburgh to the central Island town of Kirkwall. The picture above was taken out on a pier. Moments before this, I had returned from a day of shoping and exploring in town to see a full rainbow arching across the harbour and the sun shining on the next island off to the north. I rushed into our b&b to grab my camera and hustled back to the harbor 9only a block away) to get my picture. At that moment, the wind and rain came down blowing the rain almost horizontal. I was drenched in seconds but I figured I should at least get a picture of the town. The Cathedral of St. Magnus is at the center, a beautiful 12th century church, now a Presbyterian (Church of Scotland) church, though it still contains the relics of St. Magnus in one of its walls.

The first day we were there, we decided to hit the most famous site, Skara Brae, first. But on the way, we discovered the remains of another Neolithic settlement, called Barnhouse. It was situated between to lochs, and connected to the remains of the settlement were the two ceremonial sites: the Stones of Stenness and the Ring of Brodgar. Here they were...every bit as old or older than Stonehenge, just sitting by the road with a small car park to pull into while you wandered the circles. These were incredible. The Stones of Stenness (the first of the two above) are older, being built around 3000 BCE while the more elaborate Ring of Brodgar is estimated to have been build 500 years later. The Ring is encircled with a 3 meter deep and 10 meter wide ditch. It was also surrounded by barrows. Amazingly, in the 12th century, a Norse vistor carved him name (Bjorn) in runes on one of the stones...early graffiti on something already more that 3000 years old! You can see me standing next to one of these stones to get some sense for their size.

Already overwhelmed, we headed on to Skara Brae, which was a Neolithic settlement on the west coast of the island, uncovered by a massive storm in 1850. It is one of Orkney's most famous sites and was thought to be unique until farmers started finding similar settlements all over the place.

You can see the beauty of it despite a typical Orkney day where the weather changed every few minutes. Below is a picture taken over the top of the settlement if you will. You can see the individual "houses" that were all connected through a partially subterranean corridor that linked all the family dwellings together. There are six surviving houses here that was home to between 50-100 people and was in use for over 600 years. In the close up of the most elaborate of the houses, you can see how people lived. The stone shelfs are thought to be just that...a place to store and display the families prized posessions, some of which were found there. You can see a central hearth and around the exterior walls were beds. Imagine each of those stone areas piled with soft grasses and them animal pelts. You could imagine being quite warm snuggled in one of those with the fire going. There is also a smaller square of stones in front of the dresser to the right. This was lined with clay and was used to keep fish and shellfish alive until they were ready to be cleaned and eaten.

After we wandered around this site for awhile, I wandered down to the beach. It was covered in small pink jelly fish so I was glad to have my wellies on. As you can see in the picture, all of this put me in a pensive mood. Since I was on the west side of the Island, I promised Jim I would wave to him across the sea though that just made me wish he was there to see all of these things with me.

From Skara Brae, we drove on to yet another site: the Brough (pronounced "brock") of Birsay. This was a combination of Pict (9th C) and Norse (11-12th C) settlements. It is on an island only accessible by a causeway at low tide. We were lucky to be there just at the right time though we were also not so fortunate as the rain and wind picked up just as we got out of the car. But we soldiered on! If you follow the line of the causeway out, you will see a small white dote that is actually a marker right in the center of this settlement. While there are many ruins here, Birsay had a monastic community here and was the cathedral in the 11th century. The other picture showa a view looking into thenave of this small Romanesque church.

Once you let your eye pass through the nave, there is another small opening that would have been the entry to the apse and the altar. Surrounding all of this were the remains of Norse houses, an underground drainage system covered in stone, and assorted other buildings. As you can imagine, this was built on an excellent promentory where you were protected (at least during high tide) and could see for miles.

We packed it in after that and found our way back to Kirkwall and the B&B.

The next day, we went off again. This time getting a tour of Maeshowe, a Neolithic tomb out in the middle of yet another sheep pasture. It was such a fine example of it's kind, it has given it's name to the tomb structure itself...built as a set of stones all graduated so that they finally met toward the top and were covered by larger stones and the the whole thing was covered in earth. There were as many as 400 people buried there and like plenty of treasure. A group of Norsemen sheltered there and used their axes to write graffiti in runes all over the stones. There were animals and sea serpents, as well as Viking bravado ("I'm Thor and I wrote these excellent runes high up with my ax") or more adolescent messages ("That woman in the next village is hot"). But there it all is.

Later that day, we went to find two other cairns, smaller than Maeshowe but close by. By now it was raining and the wind was beginning to pick up and approach the predicted 60-70 mile an hour gales. Finding Widesford Hill Cairn was not easy. We drove behind a herd of cows, fresh from their milking, on their way back to pasture. Needless to say we couldn't get by until the farmer had prodded them along and reopened the gate to let us drive through his property and up this massive hill to the car park...such as it was. Well, we thought, we've been through alot, how bad can this be? We got out into the rain and trudged off around the upper shoulder of this hill. Once we were out of sight of the car, the path (a small footpath through the heather) started heading back down and around this hill. My comrades gave up and worried about getting back up the hill again. I thought: "I'm cold and wet...this better be worth it" and continued on alone...scaring the grouse out of the heather. You can just see me going out of site here in my red rain coat. The trail went on and on until suddenly there it was! Dug into the hillside was this burial mound. Always thoughtful and polite, the Scots leave a flashlight in a small wooden box for vistors, reminding them to turn it off when they put it back. So armed with this torch, I climbed up on top of the cairn to find a trapdoor on rollers. You push this open and climb into a 2x2-foot hole into this tomb! It was wild though I was just glad to be out of the wet. All I could think of was the opening to Lord of the Rings when the hobbits are captured by a barrow-wight...sort of an evil ghost that lives in these tombs. It was fantastic but I didn't linger and headed back up and out into the rain and wind and up that darned hill! Oh my goodness were my colleagues right to turn back! I thought to myself..."now Bill, take it easy, stop and catch your breath and whatever you do, don't have a heart attack (this was a STEEP slope going back)...while I was wearing a red coat, no one could get to me even if I needed help!" So...slowly but surely, I made my way back up to the car, totally breathless, where my companions were cozy and warm and asked "so how was it?" in an overly perky way...I was not amused. They then wanted to go find the second cairn...I wanted to go back to my room and collapse...but I went along with it. Fiddle-dee-dee...another farmers field...another 5000 year old burial mound. This was called the Cuween Hill Cairn. Yes, another hill though much less steep and a relatively short climb. But this Cairn had no trap door...so the only way in was on hands and knees...carefully crawling along a 2-3 meter tunnel to the central chamber. That's me (looking none the worse for wear wouldn't you say?) in the next picture.

Okay, one last story. We drove out to the west side of the island south of Skara Brae to see the Brough of Borwick. Nothing more than ruins on a cliff side. But the cliffs themselves and the sea were the things I'll conclude with. One wanders along a path that runs across the top of these sandstone cliffs. Layer after layer of an ancient sea bed chock full of fossilized algae, cracked mud, wavey sand dunes like in the shallow water at the beach, and other difficult to name prehistoric sea life.

The brough itself as you can see is mostly ruins but finding this set in this position on the coast was remarkable. The picture below shows the trek there and back. The weather held for us so it was a glorious hike.

Further on you can see me being my usual daring self around rocks and the sea...I have to see it all up close. But this wasn't the Atlantic coast in New Jersey. So on this one occasion I decided to lay down and take a peak over the edge from a slightly more secure position. The last two pictures however were worth a little risk don't you think?

The views from the edge (it was the edge but not quite as scary as that sounds...I was back against a wall of sandstone and probably two or three feet from the actual edges most of the time. But I couldn't help myself. As you can see from these views, one can only remain in silent, reverent awe when you see such things.

The earth and sea in all their splendor and power!