Next was Yell and Unst, to see more birds, cliffs and beaches. After a night in a wigwam, we scouted around for a good wild camping spot. We found a pretty nice beach on the far north of Unst, but decided to just have a quick look up on the Lamba Ness peninsula, the site of a derelict WWII RAF radar base. With the entire peninsula to ourselves (except for sheep), and the sun shining, it seemed silly not to camp there, so we set up our most northerly camp ever, at nearly 61 degrees north. After a barbecue in the sun at 9pm, we explored the creepy derelict buildings and bunkers. Slightly freaked by one of them being full of perfectly good open boats, but surrounded by cliffs, I stumbled across a dead sheep and jumped out of my skin. At least it wasn't going to go properly dark, so there'd be no fumbling around in the dark amongst all this eerie stuff.
We watched the sun trying very hard to set, and finally at 2237, it slid sideways below the horizon, only to re-emerge at 0337 local time. We settled down to sleep aware that this was the strongest wind our tent had ever been in, and slightly worried about the car being blown off the cliff, but both survived intact. We learned the next day that Britain's highest wind was recorded a few miles away at Saxa Vord in 1962 - 177mph to be precise, though it's an unofficial record because the measuring equipment blew away and couldn't be tested.
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