If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know how excited I was when I headed off on the Spill the Ink tour with HarperCollins, visiting eight cities in five days, and talking to huge numbers of kids all across the country. Well, I’m just back from another tour, and between you and I, I was looking forward to that one even more.
I’d never been to Orkney before, but all that changed last Sunday, when I hopped on a plane at Inverness and flew to Kirkwall, the largest town on the Orkney mainland, ready to begin my three day tour of Orkney’s North Isles. The plane I got on at Inverness was the smallest I had ever been on in my life. But it held onto that title for under 24 hours, because next morning I got on this…
The plane carried a total of eight passengers, plus the pilot. I was very excited when I got on board, but became slightly concerned when everyone else on board donned a pair of noise cancelling headphones prior to take-off. Sure enough, as the aircraft lifted off my eardrums almost imploded, and I was forced to spend the first 30 seconds of the flight with a finger jammed tightly in each ear.
After that, though, things quietened down a bit, and I was able to enjoy the stunning views from around 500 feet. I wasn’t able to relax fully on that first flight, though, as a terrible realisation struck me just after I took this photograph.
The realisation was this: If the pilot suffers a massive heart attack and dies, I’m the only one who can reach the controls. I would become auto-pilot my default, with the lives of everyone on board (aside from the pilot, who’d already be a gonner by that stage) in my hands.
Fortunately for all involved – especially him – the pilot didn’t drop dead, and the flight was over all too soon. Still, I was made to feel very welcome on Sanday, the first island I visited, and the event went really well, with the kids creating some really terrifying characters based on their deepest, darkest fears.
Next day, I headed to the airport, ready to zoom off to another island adventure. Unfortunately, fog had crept in, meaning the flight was delayed for almost an hour and a half. Luckily I made it to the next island – Westray – with a few minutes to spare, and the airport’s fireman/taxi driver whisked me off to another event at the school.
Before going to Westray, though, the plane touched down to drop off some passengers at a smaller island just beside it. This island is called Papa Westray, and the route between the two is officially the shortest plane journey in the world at just 1.7 miles. From the point the plane starts its engines in Papa Westray, to the point it switches them off in Westray, is almost exactly 2 minutes.
Here’s the view from my window as I was landing in Papa Westray (or Papay, as the locals call it).
And yes, the big shape up the top right of the picture is the propellor.
So, after flying to Papa Westray, then over to Westray, I did my event and hopped on a boat back to Papay again. I spent the afternoon running a workshop with four brilliantly creative pupils at the local primary school, then headed back to the airport, ready to fly back to Kirkwall.
Uh-oh.
The fog from the morning, it seemed, had returned. And it had brought its friends. Rather than just facing another delay, I was confronted by the worst case scenario. The plane was cancelled. And with no other boats due that day, I was stranded on the island without so much as my toothbrush, let alone a change of clothes. What’s worse, I didn’t have my laptop, and I’d finished the only book I’d brought with me while waiting for the flight that morning. I was also due to appear at another school on a different island in the morning, and I’d have to do it wearing the clothes I would have to sleep in.
With the only B&B on the island full, I was driven to the local hostel, where a shared room with a couple of other fellas awaited. Dinner, it seemed would be a packet of crisps from the shop. Still, it couldn’t be helped, and if I was going to be stranded anywhere, then at least it was somewhere with some spectacular scenery. And some puffins.
But then something spectacular happened. Louise – lovely, wonderful, spectacular Louise – from the Orkney Library Service, who had organised the tour, chartered a fast boat to come and collect me from the island! It arrived quickly and got me back to Kirkwall well before dark, and it was flippin’ exciting to boot.
Look, here’s me climbing aboard.
If I had one concern about the trip it’s that one of the blokes piloting the boat looked a bit too much like Richard Dreyfuss in the movie JAWS for my liking. They were both great guys, and it’s not really a criticism, but if you’re going to make a living ferrying people around in small boats, it’s probably not wise to bear a striking resemblance to a famous movie character whose small boat gets attacked by a massive killer shark. I’m just saying.
Next day I set off at stupid o’clock on a much bigger boat to do my final event for the kids at the primary school on Stronsay. In the time it took the boat to get there and back, and in the few hours I had to kill before the event and waiting for my delayed flight back to Inverness later that evening, I got 6,600 words of INVISIBLE FIENDS book 4 written. A result all round, I feel.
So that was that. My trip to Orkney. It was great fun, and I’d love to go back. Which is handy, as I’m going back to do some more events in September. Hooray!
Many, many, many thanks to Louise Graham at Orkney Library for all her hard work getting me to and from events (including picking me up one morning at 6:30 a.m.) and to everyone else on Orkney and at Scottish Book Trust, who made the visit possible.
