In November 2021 we flew to Shetland for ten days and drove it from top to bottom. Winter meant short days and nearly empty roads. It also meant we had the islands almost to ourselves, and the people we stayed with made the trip.
Getting there
Shetland is not a quick hop from Devon. We took the morning train from Exeter to Paddington, the Heathrow Express to Terminal 3, and an afternoon flight north. We landed at Sumburgh, right at the southern tip, a little after seven in the evening.
It was dark, of course. In November it is dark a lot.
Our first base was a small self-contained flat in Lerwick, the main town. Two nights there gave us time to find our feet before heading north.
North to Unst
The plan was simple. Start at the top and work our way down.
Getting to Unst, the most northerly inhabited island in the UK, takes two ferries and a drive across Yell in between. The ferries are small, frequent and need booking ahead. Everything else just needs patience and a full tank.
We spent a night near Baltasound in a bungalow by the old airfield. The directions we were sent read like a treasure hunt: turn right past the church, take the third right, look for the only house with a fence round the garden. It worked. No postcode could have done better.
Hermaness
The walk I remember most is Hermaness, at the very northern tip of Unst.
It was raining. The wind was the kind that pushes you sideways. Then the fog came in, thick enough that the path disappeared a few metres ahead. For a while we were not sure we were still on it.
We almost got lost. On a clear day that sounds silly. In fog, on an exposed headland at the end of the country, it does not.
We kept going, found our way, and sat down with our sandwiches looking out at the end of the isles. Cliffs, sea, rock and weather. Nothing beyond it but the North Atlantic.
It was wet, cold and very dramatic. I would not swap it for a sunny day.
The next day we drove back down through Yell, taking our time.
Empty roads
This was the best part of the trip, and the part I did not expect.
Shetland in winter is quiet. Single-track roads with passing places, and often no one to pass. We drove for long stretches without seeing another car. Just water on one side, hills on the other, and weather changing every twenty minutes.
With only a few hours of proper daylight, you plan around the light. Drive in the morning, stop when something catches your eye, be indoors by late afternoon. It sounds limiting. In practice it made each day feel deliberate.
From Yell we went to Northmavine and stayed two nights in Brae. Then west to Culswick and its broch, about an hour away, before turning back towards Lerwick.
The people
What stays with me most is the people.
We stayed in a mix of places, and the house stays were the best. Hosts who sent detailed directions, gave tips on where to go, and checked we had got back safely after a long day out. Small things, but they add up when you are a long way from home in the dark.
One evening we ended up cooking an Indian meal with one of our hosts. She opened her cupboard and there was a whole range of Indian spices.
Not a jar of curry powder. A proper collection.
I would never, in my wildest dreams, have guessed I would find that in a kitchen in Shetland. We cooked, we ate, we talked for hours. It is still one of my favourite memories of the trip.
We ended in the South Mainland near Sumburgh, after a day around Scalloway and Burra. Our last host could not have been warmer. It felt less like checking out of a B&B and more like leaving friends.
Would I go in winter again?
Yes, with one caveat. If you want long walks, puffins and endless light, go in summer. Winter is a different trip: shorter days, rougher weather and things that are closed for the season.
But if you want the place mostly to yourself, winter is hard to beat.
Ten days. Two islands to the north, one long road south.
And a lot of kindness along the way.
