Each month we will be featuring a guest writer and this month is Tom McMahon from Tucson, Arizona He said about this story. The following was written as part of a series of trip reports posted on the AOL Scotland Travel Board. I have now divided them into each of the four days we were in Shetland. Tom and his wife Liz visited Eshaness Lighthouse last week.

Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here

Part Five here Part Six here Part Seven here, Part Eight here

It seems there is no end to the surprises The Shetland Islands hold in store for us. And on this, our last day here, they begin at breakfast.

First, breakfast is served in The Green Room rather than The Library Room. This is especially nice as there are large, large windows here which look out on the spectacular Whiteness Voe. For economy's sake, John MacRae usually keeps this room closed until tourist season is truly upon him, but he appears to have made an exception today. Roger the businessman and his associate, Graham, are a few tables away from ours still deep in some sort of corporate conversation. Liz and I both slide into seats on the same side of the table so we can take in the incredible setting outside.

Second, John appears with a goose's egg he had especially selected for our farewell breakfast. This puppy is enormous! I've never seen, much less eaten, a goose egg before, and being the dyed-in-the-wool stereotypical tourist that I am, I grab my camera to record this monster on film. John dashes back into the kitchen and produces a basket and napkin in which to cradle it.

"Click!"

Okay then, let's scramble that sucker!!!

And he does, delivering it along with some tasty bangers. The one egg is more than ample for the two of us but, as always, we do our best to clean our plates...and are successful. John rushes into the room to tell us that his son, Sandy, will be leaving for school any minute now and would we like to say good-bye. Yes, indeed! We traipse up the stairs to the MacRae living quarters to greet and joke with Sandy for the last time. He is a handsome, fine young lad whose friendliness, intelligence and humor - not to mention his skills as a guide - have made a lasting impression on both Liz and me. And Liz...well, Liz has simply lost her heart to him.

I sort of corral them both outside into the bright morning sunlight and snap a happy, squinting photograph of the two of them. Then it's thank yous, good-byes and hugs as Sandy goes off to school and we return to the breakfast table.

Not much is said for a while. Liz's eyes are damp.

John tells us that there is "some weather" coming in. But it is coming in from the northeast, so our North Sea crossing back to Aberdeen tonight should be okay. The wind and sea will be behind us.

The ferry doesn't leave until 6:00, so a full day remains in which to explore a bit more of Mainland. So far, we have missed seeing Puffins, those wonderful birds with the sad, but brilliantly colored faces and bills. Although there have been few reports of these birds returning to the islands so far this year, John suggests that our best bet for spotting them will be the cliffs at Sumburgh Head.

We settle our account with John, and he helps us lug our luggage out to the car. Now, too, there are hugs and handshakes and good-byes. John remains standing outside waving at us until The Westings has disappeared from sight. Extraordinary. If John MacRae is anything other than a fine human being and a super host, then he has fooled Liz and me completely. We have enjoyed his company and his inn immensely.

We travel into Lerwick mostly in silence. There is one notable exclamation from Liz as we pass a field populated by twenty or so Shetland ponies.

In true Shetland tradition, the weather simply cannot make up its mind as to what it will do today. Our bright, clear morning has already clouded over.

There is a pullout ahead at a viewpoint and we stop here briefly to admire Nature's homage to the Isle of Mousa standing offshore from Mainland. From here, nearly everything in sight appears one shade of gray or another except around the island. The sun has punched a hole in the cloud cover and is bathing Mousa and the waters around it in a shimmering, silvery light. We can just make out the broch standing at the edge of the island. It is almost a shadow on the landscape. The light today only adds to the aura of mystery that already surrounds this ancient stone tower.

Eventually, we find ourselves once again passing the airport and Jarlshof Settlement, and inching our way along a narrow hillside road to the parking lot near the walkway leading up to Sumburgh Head.

I pull the car to a stop and Liz and I step out into a chilly and breezy day. Up the hill ahead of us stands Shetland's first lighthouse. It was built in 1821 by the father of Robert Louis Stevenson. Now, of course, it is automated, and we catch little rainbow-colored glints of light flashing off of the huge crystal-like lens that continues to rotate in its housing day and night.

Sumburgh Head is an RSPB reserve well known for its seabird colonies. It is quite early in the season for Puffins, but John has advised us to look near the bridge on the footpath. Sandy has advised us to keep an eye out for the nasty-tempered Bonxies. That is the local name for the great skua, a bird that can become quite aggressive if bothered and will attack the highest point on the source of aggravation...for humans, the head. Sandy has told us people will carry poles with them to raise above their heads so the Bonxies will attack those rather than their noggins. I have visions of a Monty Python-like procession of people Bonxie-proofing themselves - stooped over, looking fearfully over their shoulders and waving sticks in the air as they trudge across the terrain.

We don't come across any Bonxies. Or Puffins either, for that matter. The cliffs of Sumburgh Head are, however, thick with nesting guillemots and the ever-present gulls.

(To Be Continued)

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