Day 8: To Orkney!

The students woke up on time this morning, and they are now off to Headington Campus for a tour and rounds of Oxford City with Peter. My parting comment to them was: "Have fun... and make good decisions." We'll see how long that stays with them.

Mom and I got off the bus at Castle Hill to catch the airline shuttle to Heathrow, my 4th ride this week. We stopped in Harvey's at the station for a morning snack or a sandwich, and instead found what might be the most delicious meal yet! Called a breakfast bap, it was 2 strips of bacon (more like American country ham), a fried egg, tomato (grilled or fresh, I chose fresh), all on a dense wheat roll. Very good! And just a little bit messy, but I didn't mind at all.

Now we're sitting in Heathrow waiting to check our bags, so we can make ourselves comfortable on the other side of security until our flight leaves at 3:10pm. I am officially on vacation! That being said, I need to check my HPU email.

An update to the post above...

And that was the last time the blog was updated on the trip. Some people know that I'm now back at home in NC. Got here last night, dinner at Chili's, picked up the pup, and fell into bed.

Internet access in Orkney was nearly non-existent, except for the Orkney Library, which is only open until 5pm. And the time I did have at the computer was spent checking HPU emails and resolving work-related issues. That's ok though. I had did some fun stuff in Oxford, so it's only fair that I do some work stuff on vacation. I digress.

We arrived in Orkney on time, and I felt like I was flying into someone's backyard. On approach, I noticed that the entire Mainland could be seen from the airplane window. All farmland and stone walls, like a handmade patchwork quilt of greens and browns.

The bus system had stopped running, so we loaded our bags into a taxi bound for the Peedie Hostel. Peedie means small in... uh, Norse? Orkney slang?

It's important to note here that the people of Orkney, Orcadians, don't call themselves Scottish or from Scotland. In fact, there are very view obvious signs that Orkney is a part of Scotland. For centuries they have functioned independent of outside influences, yet heavily dependent on one another, and it seems that they pride themselves on that interdependent independence. Kilts are not the typical garb for Orcardians, and the various tartons are not an Orcadian thing.

We arrived on the Orkney mainland to near-solid gray skies. Not storm clouds or imminent rain, just gray skies. I wondered if it looked like that a lot.