In 48 hours from now I will be heading south on the north link ferry. At about this time of the evening (7.00) we will have passed Sumburgh Head at the southern tip of Shetland mainland and be approaching Fair Isle. The most individually famous of the northern islands, thanks to the shipping forecast, it is one of the few I have never visited. One day perhaps.

Around midnight we will be stopping at Orkney. By that time I will be in bed in my cabin, but will no doubt be woken by the banging and clattering that always accompanies an Orkney stop-over. Orkney, according to the latest archaeology, was once, seemingly, the most advanced civilisation in Europe. Neolothic remains are being discovered which suggest that, way before the pyramids were built in Egypt, Orkney was home to a sophisticated community of builders in stone..

I know there will be friends on board the ship and I will probably indulge in a glass of Orkney beer, but I always have a sinking feeling when I leave Shetland. I can only compare it to that feeling I used to get as a schoolboy when having to return to boarding school after the holidays. I knew I was heading back to see familiar faces and would soon be settled again into a well-worn routine, but I really didn’t want to go.

Having only been off Unst twice all summer, and on one of those trips only to the next island, I am expecting culture shock. I remember once travelling back to England from Shetland by plane in a journey time of little more than three hours. As I was driving along, having landed at Heathrow, I suddenly realised that I was waving a friendly hand at on-coming cars. On Unst we always acknowledge a passing motorist. I had arrived in England, but discovered I hadn’t yet adjusted to the norms and manners of the south. On the M25, folk rarely gesture at each other and then only in anger, scorn or annoyance.