It’s five years since we moved to Orkney and Sunday will be the anniversary of us actually moving into the house that we hope will be our home for many a year to come. We arrived a couple of weeks after our furniture, not really knowing whether we were here to stay or not as no contracts had been exchanged. Maybe that was crazy, but there had been three leaving parties for us and we really did think that it was time to get on and leave our former life. It all worked out fine in the end. Our first meal in Bendigo was a shop pizza and a bottle of red, sitting on the stairs as we had no furniture until the following day. Maybe we should do that again on Sunday? Maybe not.
Leaving party No 1: Nick with our neighbour Sue and an Orkney flag made for us
We had to buy a lot of furniture for our new home - having previously lived in a tiny cottage our worldly goods only filled a third of a van for the journey north. Each time we ordered something new, a few weeks later the shop would phone and say “Your sofa has come home” or “the bed has come home”. A very Orkney expression and one that we love. And now, just five short years later, it is hard to imagine that anywhere else could ever be home. Perhaps we are still in the honeymoon period? They say you have to do two winters to be a Stayer, so we’ve passed that test for sure.
A polytunnel is an essential for growing anything other than root veg and tatties at home.
Are you a fan of Simon Reeve’s travel shows on TV? We are, and also of his books. We have recently been most taken with his account of a meeting at a death hotel in India, where he was asked if he had yet decided where he wanted to die? It’s a good question indeed and, even as such island newbies, we both acknowledge that when one of us does die the other will still want to be here. That, without doubt, makes this home.
We have been off-island twice together this year. Returning, my heart almost skips a beat as we arrive at Gill’s Bay for the ferry and there, laid out before us just a few miles away, is Orkney. I point and, ET-like (well, maybe not quite as wizened) say “Home!” These islands have come to mean so much to us.
Home is where your sofa is. He’s not spoilt!