Scottish television producer
Fi Cotter Craig shares her memories of an
enlightening trip to Shetland and Orkney
Island
Exploration
I
f you haven't ever seen the
midnight sun, what have
you been doing every July
and August? It's the visual
equivalent of being in St. Paul's
Cathedral with the best choir in the
world performing Bach's Mass in
B Minor, or at La Scala watching
multiple Pavarottis out-tenoring
each other belting out Puccini's
Greatest Hits. Really, it's that good.
Any Viking cruise brings
anticipation and excitement even
before you've set foot on board, but
there was one destination on our
Into the Midnight Sun itinerary I
wasn't entirely sure about: Shetland.
In general, I love an island, but
thanks to two emotionally scarring
childhood experiences, I've never
really had any warm feelings
towards those forbidding and
far-flung stepping stones in the seas
between Scotland and Norway.
In the 1960s there was no global
warming, and therefore no summer
in Scotland. Winter clothes were
mandatory all year round and until
I could choose my own clothes I
was trapped inside itchy-scratchy
Shetland sweaters. e itchy
scratching was bad enough, but
there was a far, far worse design
flaw – the size of the neck opening.
Always way too small. Putting
them on was a struggle, but taking
them off was torture, and I'm as
sure as I can be that my ears are
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