My usual archaeological zone is quite a long time ago. I’m happiest immersing myself in the world as it was in the millennia immediately after the last ice age. But, given my overwhelming curiosity about how life was lived in the past, I’m also interested in other periods. One of the fascinating things about archaeology is the way in which the commonplace and familiar can become heritage. You could argue that the archaeological resource is always accumulating.

So it was that I found myself on a sunny autumnal afternoon surrounded by neatly clipped grass and a range of concrete and brick remains. Orkney has an interesting twentieth century history, one significant part of which was taken up by the strategic role of the archipelago during the two world wars. The use of Scapa Flow as the main British naval base is well known. This brought a considerable number of forces personnel to the islands and, of course, there were many wartime buildings. Four airfields were operational here during the second world war: one lies under the present airport; one is now an industrial estate. The other two lie on agricultural land and one of them is particularly well-preserved. Step forward HMS Tern. It was common practice to use local parish, or post office names, hence Royal Naval Air Station Twatt; the parish kirk of Twatt may be seen on the hillside not far away.

The operational history of the airfields is fascinating and has been well researched. Accounts from those who served here help to bring the remains to life. But it is the buildings that grab me. Archaeology in the making. Some comprise little more than a floor plan, simple foundations equivalent to the footings of a Bronze Age roundhouse, or a Viking drinking hall. Others are upstanding, a few have roofs. All bear mute testimony to the people who once played out their lives here. You can hear the applause in the cinema and dance hall, catch operational details in the control tower and imagine the buzz of the generators in the power houses.

HMS Tern is slowly being conserved and brought to life by the Birsay Heritage Trust. It is a brilliant project. It is possible to walk around the site, but so much better to take one of the guided tours they offer. On a tour it is possible to enter the Control Tower and other buildings, see original photographs, hear the stories, and really get a grasp of the place.

Wartime archaeology is nothing new, though you could argue that the heritage of the wars of the twentieth century is a recent addition to the archaeological repertoire. Perhaps we are only starting to give it its proper place up here in the north. Perhaps it is more a recognition of my own shortcomings that I’ve only just visited the site. Orkney has a fantastic range of well-preserved remains, many of which can be visited very easily. Some like the Italian Chapel are well-trodden tourist sites, others such as Ness Battery are getting more popular, a few like HMS Tern are just starting out. Many are to be found off the beaten track.

The islands are known for their prehistoric remains. And I love them. But it is nice to realise that the archaeology here is not static. There is a great wartime story to be told as you drive around, there are sites to be visited. It is a great reminder that heritage is truly for everyone.

I’m troubled by tourists. I like them, and I like to be a tourist myself, but, somehow, tourism has become a problem.

There are lots of reasons to appreciate tourism. It has always had a close relationship to archaeology and that continues today. Archaeology has a magnetic draw for tourists: sites are often in picturesque locations; ruins can be romantic; some hold the allure of ancestral homelands; others provide interest for the intellectual; many are exotic. There is something comforting about reminding ourselves just how deep rooted our past can be.

Orkney typifies the ideal location for the archaeological tourist. We have a good variety of sites for people to visit, from stone age remains that predate the pyramids, to wartime gun emplacements, and everything between. Those who wish to can experience these sites in a range of ways. There are organised tours, accessible managed sites, and remote sites that are off the beaten track and can take a bit of finding. You can get the full ‘explorer’ vibe, or you can opt for a more comfortable day out.

Tourists have been coming to Orkney to see the ancient sites for the last few centuries. I’m not sure what the earlier inhabitants of these islands thought of those who were able to make the trip north. I’d guess they were proud of the remains, though some might well have been puzzled that folk would be interested enough to go to the trouble of making the journey. Travel has not always been easy, though that has never stopped people from undertaking it. In general, from the records that survive, it does not seem as if visitors posed a problem.

Today, however, travel is easier and (hopefully) quicker. I can’t say cheaper as anyone who has visited Orkney will know, but that does not put people off. Visitors arrive in Orkney in their thousands (over 170,000 arrived in 2017, plus another 125,000 who came in on the cruise ships). 62%% of them want to see the history and culture, 40% the archaeology (according to the 2017 visitor survey). And this has had an impact on the sites. Some of our sites have become ‘honeypots’ and the pressure is such that the wellbeing of a site can be threatened. The most popular sites need careful management.

Of course, the problem is exacerbated when visitors all arrive in one large group. For that reason people often focus on those who visit from a cruise ship as the cause of the problems of overcrowding. It is not all about the ships, however. Cruise vessels make an important contribution to visitor numbers in Orkney, but many people arrive under their own steam, while others come on visits that have been organised by the plethora of companies offering holidays to Orkney. All, unwittingly, help to wear down a site, but all deserve a quality experience.

Where a site is overcrowded it behoves us to find alternative venues to visit, for both the wellbeing of the site and the quality of the visitor trip.  Spreading the visitor footfall a little wider across the islands makes sense as it also spreads the benefits in terms of local income. This is not hard in a place like Orkney where there is a tremendous variety of attractions (though it is sad to hear rumours of Council cuts to Museum Services that may remove one of our fantastic country-life museums from the mix. I regularly visit with groups and it is a very popular trip).

The problems lie not only in finding places for people to visit, however. They also cover infrastructure. Food venues; car parks; toilets; transport; information: all need to be able to cope with the numbers. Right now there are some shortcomings. Some sites are poorly advertised, some take a bit more travel (particularly those on the smaller islands), people do not always know what to expect, and they are not always sure where an attraction fits in, chronologically, to the great scheme of things. The information can sometimes be over technical and it is rarely in languages other than English. Perhaps we just need to publicise our lesser-known sites a little more. And provide some quickly assimilated overviews: I have noticed that some countries have very successful short films to provide an overview of their past and these allow the visitor to orientate themselves and their interests.

The impacts of tourism also fall upon the locals. While many benefit from tangible income, it can be hard to get around town on a ‘cruise ship day’, while visiting sites like Skara Brae when the coach parties are up from Inverness in the summer afternoons is not to be recommended. Driving can be difficult on crowded roads, even hire cars hard to find for visiting family (also tourists in their own way of course). I’m curious that there does not seem to be a coordinated overview of tourism impacts and requirements. On one hand, we have Orkney Harbours keen to increase the number of visiting cruise vessels. On the other hand, we have vociferous complaints about visitor pressures, too many coaches on the roads, or the problems of running a ‘normal’ life.

In general, I am glad that people want to visit Orkney and learn about the past here. We have plenty to show them, and most people have gone to some effort to arrive. I’ve just been taking a small group around some of the sites. It is a lot of fun to spend a week in the company of those whose enthusiasm and excitement rubs off on one no matter how many times you have visited a place. I do hope we can take a step back to think about what we have to offer, how best to manage it, and how to maintain a top-class experience. We may need to undertake a bit of self-reflection and identify things we could do better, even invest in improvements. But it will be worth it in the long run.

Tourists do bring problems, but they are not insurmountable, and they also bring benefits. Not only are we opening the gates to interest and excitement, but only if people care about our monuments will they take steps to look after them.

There is always great interest in any excavation that takes place in Orkney. There will be coverage on local radio and in the papers, and it is likely that any Open Day will be popular, together with a steady stream of visitors at other times. Nevertheless, there is, it seems, often a disjuncture between the public idea of the likely outcomes of excavation and the archaeologically desired outcomes of a dig.

As archaeologists we usually dig for two, sometimes interrelated, reasons. We dig when a significant site is about to be destroyed by development or unavoidable erosion. And we dig when we have serious research questions about a site that can only be answered by excavation. The ideal outcome for the archaeologist will be information, presented perhaps in the form of a book, academic report or internet paper. This might, hopefully, be supplemented in the popular media. It makes its way into received wisdom and student lectures. Job Done.

Yet, if you talk to the public about any site, you will often find an assumption that the site is being excavated with a view to laying it out and creating a new visitor experience. This is particularly the case for projects with a higher public profile, and in areas such as Orkney where archaeology is an important part of the local economy.

The sad reality is that the costs and exigencies of laying out a site as a heritage attraction today mean that it is less likely to be undertaken now than it was in the heady days of the early twentieth century when the old Ministry of Works was newly formed and enthusiastically building up its estates. New sites are still created on occasion, but while they provide excellent additions to the local repertoire of visitor experiences, in all too many cases the problems of annual maintenance and/or upkeep of infrastructure become all too visible after a few years. The wonderful Archaeolink Centre outside Aberdeen closed a few years ago now, leaving its recreations of Iron Age roundhouses and Roman earthworks to form a new type of 21^st century archaeology. In Shetland, the restoration of Old Scatness broch and associated structures (some built from new), has demanded constant maintenance against the fracturing of stonework once more exposed to the harsh northern climate and the onset of thriving weed colonies.

Even where there is both finance and expertise, the paperwork necessary to complete planning and health and safety regulations (among the many necessary constraints), make the process of opening a new attraction painfully slow. In many cases the very interest of an archaeological site means, ironically, that there are additional constraints in order to preserve the heritage value and setting of any particular site, as in a World Heritage Area.

Those who visit sites like the Ness of Brodgar or The Cairns in Orkney may imagine themselves returning at some future date to a manicured heritage site not unlike the Historic Environment Scotland sites that form such an important feature of any visit to Orkney. In truth this is unlikely to happen. It is not something that has previously bothered me much because the Mesolithic sites that I have always worked on are never going to provide significant visitor attractions (though I do occasionally dream of museums such as The Vedbæk Finds Museum in the vicinity of the Vedbæk site in the north of Copenhagen). But now I am left with a slight feeling of unease that while we are working hard to build an audience for archaeological fieldwork, we are not working to meet their aspirations.

I’m not sure what the answer is. More information certainly. More openness. A shift in our information away from the joys of uncovering material to some of the more practical aspects of studying and presenting it, of long-term maintenance. In general, I find that people are interested in the issues that surround the future of any archaeological site. Where not dictated by the situation (destruction in advance of a supermarket, road, or housing development for example), discussion of the problems of car parks, staffing, display decisions, and long-term welfare provide a fascinating insight into heritage management that many people are keen to obtain.

As an archaeologist I have always focused on the generation of academic knowledge from excavations. I have come to realise recently that this might not be the sole goal. I’ve had to broaden my horizons to consider other outputs, fulfilling the needs of a wider audience.

Attention has been drawn recently to the lack of toilet facilities at the Ring of Brodgar. It is a difficult problem and encapsulates precisely the dilemma of managing a World Heritage Site in the twenty-first century. As guardians of The Heart of Neolithic Orkney we want people to visit the sites and love them in the way that we, who live in Orkney, love them. Indeed, helped by some canny marketing and promotion, people now come from around the world to visit Orkney and many of those who come are attracted by the lure of our archaeology. As an archaeologist, I’m heartened by that; I never imagined when I embarked on my career over forty years ago, that archaeology might become quite so popular.

It is not an undiluted pleasure, however. With increased visitor footfall, we see all sorts of problems arising. Sadly, litter can be an issue, and there are even people who still see fit to leave graffiti. Over the last couple of years, we have watched an intensive programme of works by Historic Environment Scotland to improve drainage at the site and get rid of conditions that could, at times, verge on ankle-deep mud – not good for either the welfare of the site nor for visitor safety. Arriving at the site requires vehicular access, and a car park was built some years ago. This year there has been increasing pressure on the narrow, single-track, road leading to the car park with both vehicles and pedestrians jostling for position in a way that can be, at times, quite scary.

Nevertheless, in general, it works, and many people appreciate the relatively ‘wild’ atmosphere of the site in contrast to more managed attractions like Stonehenge. But, people continue to arrive in increasing numbers.

Which brings me to the toilets. Some correspondents write as if this were a simple matter: install toilets. Portaloos or a septic tank perhaps, given the distance from mains drainage. There is certainly room at the side of the car park. But it is not as easy as that. There are two problems: overground and underground. Overground, considerable care is taken (and the planning process requires), that the setting of the World Heritage Site is not compromised by modern development. It is not an insurmountable issue, one could, for example, widen the bank around the car park on the lochside and build in an earthfast suite of cubicles. But it would cost money. Underground the issue may be more difficult because, as you will be aware, archaeological sites are like icebergs, anything that survives is likely to lie below the visible bits. Though the car park is set away from the Ring itself, the whole isthmus, at least from Maeshowe to Bookan, was made use of in the Neolithic and the remains of sites dot the landscape. As the excavations at Ness of Brodgar show, the isthmus can still surprise us. So, any work has to be undertaken with requisite archaeological input and that is slow and expensive. There was, of course, excavation in advance of the construction of the car park, but it is likely that the construction of toilets would require more work.

Once, when visiting a rock art site in a remote part of Sweden, I came across a cardboard toilet. You can buy them from a well-known online retailer. But they require frequent emptying and they would still need a superstructure.

I’m not sure what the answer is. Signage, to make people aware that there are no toilet facilities due to the fragile nature of the site and explaining exactly how to get to the public toilets in Dounby and Stenness (and how long it will take)? Increased awareness and a discrete information cue from tour guides and bus drivers? I visit Brodgar with coach parties from time to time, and I do make sure that I warn people in advance of the lack of toilets at both stone circles. Perhaps we should be thinking of enlarging the facilities in the nearby villages: a coach with forty guests can take a while at the public convenience in Stenness. One thing I do know is that I’m keen to keep access to our World Heritage Sites as open and inviting as possible. As you get older and stiffer, perhaps more infirm, you don’t lose your interest in heritage. But it is a difficult one. The Ring of Brodgar was undoubtedly built for communal visits and activities, but, of course, visitor numbers were different, people were (probably) not restricted to one narrow path of access, and the modern requirement for ‘facilities’, was solved in other ways.

It is a conundrum, some of our best sites are just too fragile and remote to cope with the demands of the twenty-first century. There has been a lot of debate recently about the benefits, and otherwise, of the tourist numbers that Orkney now attracts. We are told by OIC that the introduction of cheaper ferry fares is likely to bring tourists ‘in even greater numbers’ and that this is something they wish to encourage. We can’t put a halt to the tourism bandwagon, and I’m not sure we  want to; many of us benefit from the tourist economy, and most of us enjoy being tourists ourselves.

Perhaps the time has come to take control and plan for the future. What sort of visitor numbers do we, as a community, want? What attractions do we want to promote? How will people get there? What do we want them to ‘take away’? How do we want to manage it? Should there be days every week that are managed to be less congested? To date, tourism here has grown and developed in a very ad hoc fashion, but I think we want to control it, rather than let it control us.

I’ve been working with a well-established travel company who want to develop a tour of Orkney for their guests. It is a fun thing to do, but it is more complex than you might think. To be honest, once the tour is up and running, being a guide-lecturer is pretty much of a doddle. You are paid to visit first-rate sites with which you are familiar and chat about them with a bunch of interesting people. The conversation usually ranges widely and friendships are formed. It is always an intense experience, but it is one that I enjoy.

There are, however, several different elements necessary to build a tour from scratch and it is important not to leave any of them unexplored. First of all, of course, it is necessary to select the sites. In a place like Orkney that is not as easy as it may seem. There are so many interesting sites here that it can be more a matter of which visits to leave out. Some don’t have adequate parking. Others don’t lend themselves to coach tours (locations where only two or three people can enter at a time for example).

Then you need to group those sites into meaningful days, and decide in which order the days should come. First time visitors to Orkney are always keen to see the World Heritage sites so I tend to suggest that they come first. It also makes sense to visit Skara Brae before the other Neolithic sites because that is where you get a glimpse of the everyday life of the average Neolithic islander. Wherever they came from in Orkney, the people who knew the stone circles, buried their dead in the tombs, and experienced Ness of Brodgar, their lives were rooted in the domestic routine that was played out in communities of houses similar to those at Skara Brae. Similarly, it is hard to understand the significance of the Renaissance vision of Earl Patrick Stewart as expressed in the Earl’s Palace in Kirkwall, if you have not explored the northern foundations of life in Orkney in preceding centuries under the Norse Earldom at sites like the Brough of Birsay or Quoygrew.

Finally, it is, of course, important to combine outdoor sites with the museums. But we have more museums than many people think – which to include? The Orkney Museum in Kirkwall holds the artefact collections that provide colour to the framework set by the archaeological sites. The two farm museums offer an atmospheric background to more recent times, Stromness museum has an eclectic collection that ranges widely with something for all interests, the Scapa Flow visitor Centre at Lyness holds fascinating material related to the two World Wars and in particular the scuttling of the German Fleet, and the Pier Arts Centre houses an important collection of art, not to mention local and traveling exhibitions. And that is not all of them.

There is an order to things.

But that is not all. With the basic framework comes the nitty-gritty. How long should we spend at each site? Where should we have lunch? Where should we stay? What about evening meals? Lectures? Free time? It is like doing some sort of immersive jigsaw puzzle. Luckily, I don’t have to work it all out myself, there are those much more experienced than I in the logistical detail. My job is mainly to advise on presenting 10,000 years of island culture at its best. It is not all archaeology – it is also about helping people to understand Orkney today, and the way in which the past has contributed to the present. It is nice to try to sneak in little things that others might miss, or off-the-beaten-track sites that you might not access if you were not in an organised group. Visiting remote and small places like Orkney can be quite daunting for people who are not sure of the infrastructure up here which is why it can be easier to come on a tour.

And all of this is without consideration of the current debates as to whether, or not, tourism is ‘a good thing’. That, I think, would be a whole new blog post and I’m not going to get drawn into it here.

In this case, anyway, I think we have done a good job. I’ve enjoyed thinking about how to present Orkney so that people really have a fun, and interesting holiday. They are not going to see everything, but hopefully they will leave feeling fulfilled and with the knowledge to return one day should they wish to explore other parts of the islands.