It seemed like I'd spent half my life in an airplane when I finally landed at Sumburgh Airport in Shetland Islands. My trip started on a cold, rainy, January morning in Nashville, Tennessee. From there I'd changed planes three times and spent a little more than twenty-four hours in the air or waiting for my next flight. By the time the small plane left Aberdeen airport, I was thinking how I was going to thank my boss for sending me to Lerwick in January. I'd narrowed my choices down to either a hard kick in his fat ass or pissing on his desk.
I knew I'd do neither when I got back. Both were just the rambling of a mind addled by almost no sleep, bad food, and cramped seating. Besides, either would get me fired.
At least the rental car was nice. Half an hour after claiming my bags, I was sitting in an almost new VW Passat and driving up A970 toward Lerwick and the Lerwick Hotel. It wasn't as cold as I'd imagined it would be. The radio said it was four Celcius. My mental calculation told me that was about 40 Fahrenheit. It was only a couple degrees warmer than that when I left Nashville.
It was Monday afternoon about two when I checked in, and I didn't have to be anywhere until Wednesday morning, but I'd traveled enough to know sleeping was the worst thing I could do. If I slept then, I'd be awake half the night, and sleepy again the next afternoon. Instead, I put my clothes away and took a walk down to the beach that was just behind the hotel.
It really wasn't a beach, at least not like any other beach I'd seen before. There was no sand, just gray-black rock that sloped down to the water. There was what appeared to be a walking path, though, so I continued my walk.
It was relaxing, actually. There were the same wave sounds I'd heard at other beaches, and here and there a bird kind of like the seagulls back home screeched as it flew past. There were several around, but they were bigger than seagulls and were brown instead of white. Floating in the gentle waves were ducks of some kind. Every once in a while, one of them would dive down in the water and stay down for what seemed like forever.
I almost didn't see her at first. Her jacket was about the same color as the rocks, and she had her face turned away from me. She sort of blended in to the surrounding rock.
I don't like scaring people, especially women, and this one didn't seem to know I was there. I coughed in order to make some noise that she could hear over the sound of the surf.
She turned and smiled.
"Hello"
She was an older woman, well, some people would have called her older. I thought she looked about my age, at least her face had the character I'd always associated with women my age. The rest of her, what I could see anyway, didn't. Short, light brown hair framed a pretty face, and she was definitely slender.
I smiled back.
"Hi."
She grinned.
"I think you're not from Shetland, are you?"
"No, I'm from Tennessee... in the US."
"I see. You're watching the bonxie's and divers. Are you a birder?"
"I'm not sure what a birder is, but I'm just trying to stay awake after my flight. I thought they were gulls and ducks."
She smiled again.
"Your gulls are skuas. We call them bonxies. The ducks are red throated divers. What brings you to Lerwick In January? Most tourists come in summer."
"My job. My company is bidding on some equipment for one of your wind farms. I have meetings with them on Wednesday and Thursday of this week."
"You'll have some time to look around then."
"I do, but I'm not sure what there is to see. I read about a castle and some old ruins. I don't have to leave until Saturday, so I thought I'd see them."
The woman rose to her feet and dusted off her round, shapely bottom.
"Will you be going to Up Helly Aa? That's why I'm here."
I grinned.
"If I knew what that was I could probably tell you."
She smiled.
"Oh, you simply must go. It's great fun, though it would probably seem a bit odd to you. Up Helly Aa is a celebration that goes back to when the people here were Norse. It's a fun time. I come every year. There are parties after the celebration, and I'm staying here, at the Lerwick, so I don't have to drive afterwards. It's tomorrow night, if you might be interested."
It was one of those things you say that you really hadn't planned on saying, but that seems to pop out of your mouth on it's own.
"I would, but I don't know my way around. I'm staying at the Lerwick too. Could...could you show me?"
She put her hand on her chest.
"My, I haven't been asked out in a very long time. I'll have to think about that."
I grinned.
"I also hate eating alone. Would you have dinner with me tonight and tell me about it?"
She grinned.
"Are you Americans always so forward? You don't even know my name, and you've asked me out...twice."
"No, not usually. I just want some company, and you're the only person in Lerwick I know."
She laughed.
"Ten minutes isn't what I'd say is knowing someone, but yes, I'll have dinner with you. I'm Helen, and you are?"
"Tom, Tom Hastings."
She held out a slender hand with soft, slender fingers.
"I'm pleased to meet you Tom. Where are we dining tonight?"
The restaurant in the hotel seemed to be a nice place. I met Helen there at six. She'd changed into a svelt, black dress, black stockings and low heels. I was right about her being slender, though the hips that made the dress sway were very female. Her bust wasn't very big, but that didn't detract from the pretty woman who smiled and took my arm.
Most of the menu was a complete mystery to me. After looking at it, I chuckled.
"I have no idea what to order. What's a balantine, or a darne, or black pudding?
Helen grinned.
"You being an American, you might just want to order the hot fish platter."
"No, I want to sample the local food. I always do that when I'm traveling. What are you having?
Helen ran her finger down the menu.
"I'm having...I'm having the Darne of Salmon, I believe, and the cullen skink as a starter."