October, 2025 --- Day 10
✨ Scottish Fantazy
🌊 🛳️ Day 10 — Sailing Into the North & Walking Among Ancient Winds
“Cabins, cliffs, and courage.”
By noon we were aboard Hjaltland, gliding into the middle of the sea — and at last, toward Shetland.
Our dream was coming true. It was our first cabin trip ever, and we had landed a premium lounge cabin, tartan patterns and all, facing the open ocean. Only one problem: two single beds instead of one. Aho 😔
After warm showers (of course), we curled up together, cozy and small against the rolling sea. I recommended a movie from the cabin TV — Dune.
Classic me. Sci-Fi !
Charlie had never seen Dune 1, and Northlink, being a modern cultural hub, only had Dune 2. The dialogue became alien poetry to him. I tried to watch the beginning, but sleep swooped in like a quiet bird. Charlie warmed my blankets, then slipped back to his own bed. We fell asleep far sooner than planned.
But the night was not peaceful for long. I woke to the ship rising and dropping like a stone in the dark, the sea heaving beneath us. I reached over — and Charlie wasn’t in the same bed.
Fear wrapped around me. I called him; he opened his blankets with sleepy arms. I leapt in immediately, the bed far too tiny for us both. Wrapped together, I felt safe… until his hug grew so tight I couldn’t breathe. Back to my own bed I went — and peace finally settled.
We awoke to an announcement:
Breakfast is now served. Arrival in Shetland at 7 a.m.
Excitement jolted us upright. We threw on our warm layers and hurried to the deck to chase the sunrise. The ship had everything — cinema, lounges, a canteen serving hot meals. Even How to Train Your Dragon, the live-action adaptation, was playing.
Outside, wind and rain hit us instantly — the storm still clung to the isles. But through the mist, Shetland slowly took shape:
Lerwick, with its red-roofed houses, glass-fronted buildings catching the early light, stone walls hugging the harbor, and boats bobbing like quiet thoughts. A modern village with ancient bones.
Morning Lerwick.
We were finally here.
Rain fell like a fine mist on our faces as we walked to our new home — Eddlewood House, nestled between the ferry terminal and downtown. A perfect little base for Shetland days.
Our stomachs called next — loudly.
But on a Monday morning, Shetlanders don’t rush breakfast.
We wandered the small but perfectly stocked town, realizing we’d wasted time worrying about food; the island had everything.
At last, a coastal café opened.
I had a ham-and-cheese panini; Charlie assembled his protein feast: potato salad, smoked salmon, tomatoes. We dripped water onto the chairs, warmed up slowly, and set off again — this time to rent bikes for tomorrow.
The bike shop was excellent… except for the weather. The shop lady politely declared:
“No, you cannot cycle from Lerwick to Ulsta tomorrow. You’ll need ferries — and better weather.”
Fair enough.
And finally — the adventure began.
We caught Bus 6 to the southern tip of the island: Sumburgh Head, home of dramatic cliffs and ancient echoes. Our target: Jarlshof, a prehistoric and Viking settlement tracing back nearly 5,000 years, layers of stone revealing Bronze Age homes, Norse farmsteads, medieval halls — a time machine carved by wind and sea.
The ride south felt like drifting into another world. Outside of Lerwick, there were no towns, just empty land, sea grass, stone, and soon our best friends — the sheep. The bus rocked gently, the rain tapping a lullaby on the windows. I curled into Charlie, my favorite pillow, and fell asleep for almost the entire hour.
Jarlshof appeared suddenly out of nowhere — a low cluster of ancient ruins beside Sumburgh Hotel, facing the wild sea. I wasn’t fully awake yet, so Charlie led me straight toward the beach — West Voe, one of the most beautiful surprises of the trip.
The water glowed apple green, turquoise, sapphire — translucent waves rolling like glass. Wind whipped around us, but we stood there 30 minutes, mesmerized, helicopters cutting across the sky like something from an unreal, perfect film.
Then — Jarlshof.
Or… an unexpected twist.
Closed on Monday.
But where there is a will, there is a way.
We pushed open the wooden gate with bare hands, slipping into 5000 BC like sneaky archaeologists.
Fine stone walls curved around us; the ocean roared in the background.
We shouted into the wind — only the storm answered.
The whole world felt like it belonged to us alone.
Fog rolled in. Rain thickened into drama.
Perfect conditions for Charlie’s favorite genre: thriller.
He invented stories about us wandering alone on abandoned land near the airport, and I couldn’t help but laugh through the wind.
We had a 20-minute walk to catch our return bus — or wait forever.
Sheep bleated at us (“miiieee!”), cows joined with deep “moooos”. Two Chinese travellers walking across Shetland’s no-man’s-land — I’m sure people wondered!
At the tiny Sumburgh Airport, exhausted and thirsty, we grabbed drinks: my suspicious matcha-apple juice (wild lands demand wild choices), and Charlie’s comforting hot chocolate.
He took one sip of mine:
“Yuck — horse pee!”
Fair. 😡
His hot chocolate was heavenly. I stayed awake this time; Charlie napped on my shoulder.
When the bus passed our house, I pressed the stop button like a pro — and we were home!
I collapsed on the bed while Charlie soaked in a warm bath. OOXX.
After some miraculous rest, we headed downtown for a proper look.
Shopping time! Charlie needed a hat to survive the Shetland winds. Shetland, famous for its wool and knitting traditions, had just hosted Shetland Wool Week, so the shops overflowed with handmade treasures. Charlie chose a gorgeous turquoise-and-blue wool hat — elegant and perfectly “Shetland boi.”
We found a handmade hairband for me too, stitched with a tiny lobster pattern, matching his hat like a winter couple set. I loved it immediately.
Evening arrived and the sky turned unexpectedly blue. The sea shone brighter, the waves softened.
Our stomachs roared again. Instant noodles for dinner! A perfect comfort for Mid-Autumn Festival, which, hilariously, we had forgotten until that moment.
We watched our first cooking competition show together, staying up late for the first time on the trip.
Outside, the wind still howled — but inside, we held onto warmth and hope for a peaceful Shetland night.