I remember it was a long long time ago, back in the seventies, when a girl at work called Heather spoke of her holiday in the Orkney islands off the coast of Scotland. Hmmm, I thought who'd want to go there - what could you do in such a remote place? But then I was probably about 19 and didn't know any better. When you get to a certain age, it's totally different.
Fast forward to last winter and my brother Martin comes up with the idea of going there and this time I didn't hesitate and the planning started. After all, during the past five years, we have both been gradually getting into birds, especially photography-wise, following on from our Dad although in his day the optics weren't readily available.
The planning got a bit complicated as May or June seems to be the optimum time with the birds breeding, but then we wanted to avoid bank holidays, but at the same time we wanted to attend an air show in Morocco that only takes place every other year. This was to be a holiday of almost three weeks with the first and last weeks ambling up there in the car stopping off at various places to suit our mutual interests.
So on Sunday May 8th, we were ready to set off with plenty of clean clothes, outdoor wear and a motley selection of hotels and bed and breakfasts booked. We were on our way!
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