In new film The Outrun, Saoirse Ronan finds herself drawn back home to Orkney. The pull of the landscape is irresistible…
Kelly-Anne Taylor - 17 September 2024
I don’t break stride. The cold barely registers as my feet, then knees, then hips submerge. It catches up to me, finally, as the sea water reaches my chest. But still, I move forward. I surrender to the final plunge; my face tingles from the brutal cold, and my hair flails like seaweed. I rise to the surface, busy thoughts stilled, and float in the gentle current – until a quiet splash grabs my attention. I turn. Two sets of hollow eyes peak at me curiously. The selkies are watching.
I’m swimming in the North Sea off the coast of Orkney because, a few weeks earlier, I’d watched Saoirse Ronan’s new film, The Outrun. Based on Amy Liptrot’s bestselling memoir, it follows a woman in her 30s who leaves her tempestuous life in London, marked by addiction and trauma, and returns to her childhood home to heal. Mesmerised by the film’s landscapes, and desperate for a taste of the liberation afforded by cold-water swimming, rich community, folklore and nature, I got on a plane.
I arrive to a typical Orkney summer’s day: the sun shows intermittently between soft downpours of drizzle. My first stop is the RSPB nature reserve of Cottascarth and Rendall Moss. I drive through a working farm, abandon my car in an empty car park and trudge up the muddy path. I walk through thick heath, blanketed with purple heather, to get to the bird hide. Inside, the relentless sound of wind is replaced with silence. I sit and look out of the window – the surrounding hills are a patchwork quilt of vibrant green and post-harvest ochre. It feels as though the island is a boat, and I am its captain. Three small birds take off.
Later, I retreat to the Kirk Gallery and Café in Tankerness (amateur birdwatching is hungry work). Sitting, snug, in a renovated parish church, I order a toastie comprised of four local cheeses. It’s sharp and tangy, and the gooey strings of cheddar are the perfect textural contrast to the buttered-crunch of toasted bread.
Image: Common harbour seals keep their eyes open
The orange sun hangs low in the sky as I arrive at the Orkney Folklore and Storytelling Centre. The room is low-ceilinged with wooden floors that creak. The peripheries are lined with artwork created from objects washed up on shore. A woman with silver, flowing hair, clad in a black net shawl, lights a peat fire and recounts stories of the Isles, her voice shapeshifting to bring characters to life. She tells the legend of the Selkie Wife: a seal – or, in Orkney, a selkie – who can slip her skin and become human (until she has her skin stolen by a man and is made to become his wife).
Next morning, I take the 7am ferry from the mainland to the smaller island of Westray. Men with hard faces and overalls sip coffee in the time-warped cafeteria. I sit on the open deck, watching as the boat cuts through the sea against a backdrop of quiet pink sky.
In The Outrun, there is a beautiful scene where Ronan stands on the edge of a cliff, pelted by ocean spray. Her eyes are closed, hair whipping in the wind, feeling the full force of the elements. As I stand at Aikerness Craigs at the cliff edge, looking out towards the Atlantic Ocean, I hear the roar of the sea, taste its saltiness, smell its brine. Sea spray kisses my lips. I close my eyes. The clouds give way to sun. The grass steams with condensation. The whole island feels alive. I take a small ferry to the nearby island of Papa Westray, home to 82 people. I buy supplies from the community shop, open for just a few hours a day, and hole up with Liptrot’s book for the night.
In the morning, I meet Tim Dodman – an island resident who advised on filming locations for The Outrun. He has offered to take me on his boat to an even smaller, uninhabited islet called Holm of Papa. As we approach, the shoreline comes into focus. Splayed on the rocks are selkies – at least 100 of them – resting. Tim cuts the engine. The seals flop inelegantly towards the water, and once in, swim close to the boat, curious, their little heads bobbing above the surface.
Back on Papa Westray, Tim takes me to Rose Cottage: a light pink, tiny home, where Amy Liptrot wrote the memoir (and which features heavily in the film). There is a tiny wood-burner, a box-bed and a comfy-looking armchair. It is cosy, basic and the perfect place to write. But now it’s time to swim. It’s only me on this sandy stretch with Grecian blue waters and drifting kelp. The selkies watch as I float. My skin is goosepimpled and red. A smile is etched into my face. This is a land of spirit, soul and healing.
The Outrun is in cinemas from Friday 27 Sept. Loganair flies direct to Kirkwall, on Orkney, from six mainland airports (loganair.co.uk). The Foveran near Kirkwall is a four-star hotel with an award-winning restaurant serving local produce (thefoveran.com)
I’m swimming in the North Sea off the coast of Orkney because, a few weeks earlier, I’d watched Saoirse Ronan’s new film, The Outrun. Based on Amy Liptrot’s bestselling memoir, it follows a woman in her 30s who leaves her tempestuous life in London, marked by addiction and trauma, and returns to her childhood home to heal. Mesmerised by the film’s landscapes, and desperate for a taste of the liberation afforded by cold-water swimming, rich community, folklore and nature, I got on a plane.
I arrive to a typical Orkney summer’s day: the sun shows intermittently between soft downpours of drizzle. My first stop is the RSPB nature reserve of Cottascarth and Rendall Moss. I drive through a working farm, abandon my car in an empty car park and trudge up the muddy path. I walk through thick heath, blanketed with purple heather, to get to the bird hide. Inside, the relentless sound of wind is replaced with silence. I sit and look out of the window – the surrounding hills are a patchwork quilt of vibrant green and post-harvest ochre. It feels as though the island is a boat, and I am its captain. Three small birds take off.
Later, I retreat to the Kirk Gallery and Café in Tankerness (amateur birdwatching is hungry work). Sitting, snug, in a renovated parish church, I order a toastie comprised of four local cheeses. It’s sharp and tangy, and the gooey strings of cheddar are the perfect textural contrast to the buttered-crunch of toasted bread.
Image: Common harbour seals keep their eyes open
The orange sun hangs low in the sky as I arrive at the Orkney Folklore and Storytelling Centre. The room is low-ceilinged with wooden floors that creak. The peripheries are lined with artwork created from objects washed up on shore. A woman with silver, flowing hair, clad in a black net shawl, lights a peat fire and recounts stories of the Isles, her voice shapeshifting to bring characters to life. She tells the legend of the Selkie Wife: a seal – or, in Orkney, a selkie – who can slip her skin and become human (until she has her skin stolen by a man and is made to become his wife).
Next morning, I take the 7am ferry from the mainland to the smaller island of Westray. Men with hard faces and overalls sip coffee in the time-warped cafeteria. I sit on the open deck, watching as the boat cuts through the sea against a backdrop of quiet pink sky.
In The Outrun, there is a beautiful scene where Ronan stands on the edge of a cliff, pelted by ocean spray. Her eyes are closed, hair whipping in the wind, feeling the full force of the elements. As I stand at Aikerness Craigs at the cliff edge, looking out towards the Atlantic Ocean, I hear the roar of the sea, taste its saltiness, smell its brine. Sea spray kisses my lips. I close my eyes. The clouds give way to sun. The grass steams with condensation. The whole island feels alive. I take a small ferry to the nearby island of Papa Westray, home to 82 people. I buy supplies from the community shop, open for just a few hours a day, and hole up with Liptrot’s book for the night.
In the morning, I meet Tim Dodman – an island resident who advised on filming locations for The Outrun. He has offered to take me on his boat to an even smaller, uninhabited islet called Holm of Papa. As we approach, the shoreline comes into focus. Splayed on the rocks are selkies – at least 100 of them – resting. Tim cuts the engine. The seals flop inelegantly towards the water, and once in, swim close to the boat, curious, their little heads bobbing above the surface.
Back on Papa Westray, Tim takes me to Rose Cottage: a light pink, tiny home, where Amy Liptrot wrote the memoir (and which features heavily in the film). There is a tiny wood-burner, a box-bed and a comfy-looking armchair. It is cosy, basic and the perfect place to write. But now it’s time to swim. It’s only me on this sandy stretch with Grecian blue waters and drifting kelp. The selkies watch as I float. My skin is goosepimpled and red. A smile is etched into my face. This is a land of spirit, soul and healing.
The Outrun is in cinemas from Friday 27 Sept. Loganair flies direct to Kirkwall, on Orkney, from six mainland airports (loganair.co.uk). The Foveran near Kirkwall is a four-star hotel with an award-winning restaurant serving local produce (thefoveran.com)
Compare travel insurance quotes