very long and particularly rough sea journey
will hit home. We can provide some things for
ourselves, but it pays to be prepared.
NORTHERN NIGHTS
Hogmanay is a big deal on mainland Scotland,
and the habits of black bun, mincemeat pies and
first-footing (see page 121) have caught on to
some extent in Shetland. But they’re not treated
with great enthusiasm. The old Julian calendar
was still followed here right into the late 19th
century, which gives you Yule, a season of
winter feasting lasting up to a month, and Old
Yule on 5 January. So, basically in Shetland we
go on celebrating Yule like crazy until we get to
Up Helly Aa, on the last Tuesday in January
- the first glimmerings of the year and a great
shout of anger at the darkness.
No one rails against darkness better than the
Vikings and there’s no question that there’s a
great deal of Scandic-DNA in the native
population. Shetland was part of Scandinavia
until the Scots took it over in the 15th century
(see opposite). The process of Britification was
inexorable. It was only following the First
World War, that great trauma of national
identity, that some young war veterans took an
interest in the history, rituals and iconography
of Viking times and applied them to Shetland.
S
hetland is dark. Darker than dark,
for a good portion of the year.
That’s the time for lighting the
fire, for visiting, for telling tales
over a dram and a bowl of tattie
soup. Despite the darkness, we are
happy. This is perhaps because there are more
jobs than people, and partly because we do all
the best things in life so well. Music. History.
Art. Community. Food. Drink. Jumpers.
There is one aspect of our culture that we do
particularly well: celebration. Shetlanders enjoy
a bit of revelry. They make you feel welcome,
like you can only say the right thing and it’s
never getting late. We call this concept ‘foy’, an
old Scots word that’s still in frequent use on the
isles today. Make no mistake: we don’t have any
Michelin-starred restaurants. We don’t even
have a strong restaurant scene. Shetland’s food
stems from survival. Even today, the realities of
living in a place cut off from the mainland by a
