shewhomust | The Tomb of the Eagles

On our first full day in the islands, we headed down to the very tip of South Ronaldsay, to the Tomb of the Eagles. When we were first in Orkney, over twenty years ago, I remember seeing an exhibition at the museum about the finds from the Tomb of the Eagles (it was excavated in 1976, and I think this must have been not long after), from which I gained the impression that since the site was privately owned, it could not be visited. I don't know if that was true then, or if it was simply the tone of voice in which the professional archaeologists discuss the efforts of amateurs.

The next time we were in Orkney, we discovered that it was now possible to visit the Tomb, thanks to the "private enterprise" of the owners. This phrasing suggested exploitation, slickness and mercenary values, but we decided to risk it anyway, and discovered that nothing could have been further from the truth. You parked outside a farmhouse, and went into a conservatory leaning against the side of the house, in which a young woman was encouraging a group of visitors to pass round stone axeheads. We joined the group, and were handed a skull, and told the story of how, in 1958, Ronnie Simister went out into his field to look for stones to use as fenceposts, and found the tomb. After this introduction, we were shown the path to follow, and told "Ronnie will be waiting for you in the Bronze Age house." And he was, and told us about this second archaeological site on his land, before directing us down to the cliff top and the Tomb of the Eagles.

These days, things are a little more professional - there's a sizeable car park, and a purpose built museum, and visitors are no longer allowed to handle the skulls. Ronnie probably won't be waiting for you by the burnt mound (we're no longer confident that it's a house), either. But the welcome is still as personal and enthusiastic, the stone implements are still passed from hand to hand. There's a photo on display of Ronnie with Dick the eagle (taken during the filming of a wildlife programme) and you are invited to speculate about what the two of them are saying to each other. The Tomb of the Eagles web site captures the tone of the operation: the multicoloured text and scrolling strapline are not the most professional design, but it's full of helpful information not only about the tomb itself, but about where to stay and where else to visit.

And it's still as beautiful a walk as ever down the farm lane to the burnt mound, and beyond to the cliff and the tomb. There's a helpful trolley on wheels ("Granny's skateboard", apparently) to help you through the low passage into the tomb, and if you don't fancy that, there's a box of rubber patches (bits of car tyre) you can tie on to protect your knees. Inside, there's a dim light, and a high enough roof to stand comfortably, and the quiet stones and the peaceful sense of somewhere that was important to people for a long time, a long time ago, and the sea visible through the entrance.

We walked back along the cliffs, and round the inlet, and Gail saw a seal. Then we drove off and followed the signs to the Skerries Bistro, where we had lunch - and a very pleasant lunch, too, though I do [oops: ETA "not"] feel that "skerries" and "bistro" are words that fit comfortably together.