Fife Pilgrim Way

Many people come from miles around to walk the Fife Coastal Path - a 117 mile route running from Kincardine to Newburgh. In 2019, a new long-distance route was unveiled in the Kingdom. The Fife Pilgrim Way plots a 64-mile course inland and ends at the ancient town of St Andrews. There are two starting points - the old ports of Culross and North Queensferry. They are equidistant from Dunfermline Abbey, after which a single trail approximates the route taken by medieval pilgrims on the way to worship at the shrine of our national Patron Saint. My sister and I decided we would do the various stages together but lockdown disrupted our schedule and I ended up doing the two legs to Dunfermline on my own once the restrictions were gradually eased. Linda has since walked these two stretches and we now await the better weather to tackle the rest of the Pilgrim Way.

The Royal Burgh of Culross is a place I know well. I've done a lot of exploring around the historic settlement and the place is a day trip in itself. Many properties are in the care of the National Trust and tourist numbers have been boosted in recent years with the international success of the fantasy TV series Outlander - parts of which were filmed in the vicinity. The village is the best surviving example of a burgh from the 17th and 18th centuries. Culross grew around the coal mining industry in an age when a sea connection was vital for exporting goods. The world's first underwater coal mine was constructed here in the late 1500s by George Bruce. Salt panning was another major activity and Robert Preston upped the ante by integrating mining and salt production on his own man-made island! Things took a downward turn with the coming of the railways as the iron road didn't initially serve Culross. A link was belatedly established in 1906 but passenger services only lasted 25 years as faster trains to Stirling, Edinburgh and Glasgow were available via the Dunfermline Upper line. By 1930, the motor bus was hoovering up local traffic and Culross Station was closed. The railway itself continued as a vital freight link and is still in existence today, although trains are few and far between following the demolition of Longannet Power Station - the last coal-fired behemoth in Scotland. Regular buses run between Dunfermline and Culross and I hopped aboard on a fine Sunday morning, alighting at the village green to begin my assault on the Fife Pilgrim Way. I noted the recently installed plaque dedicated to the falsely accused witches of Scotland and made my way across to the best known building. Painted in bright yellow, Culross Palace is run by the National Trust for Scotland. It was built around 1600 as the home for George Bruce and visitors can marvel at the original painted woodwork and beautifully restored 17th and 18th-century interiors. Although never actually a royal residence, King James VI paid a visit in 1617 and also toured the undersea coal mine - an industrial marvel of its time. The palace was closed today but it was easy enough to hold my iPhone above the boundary wall for a sunlit photo. The Pilgrim Way basically starts in the centre of Culross before winding its way steeply uphill to the abbey. Close to the palace is a bust of Admiral Thomas Cochrane - a renowned figure in the British Navy. Born in Lanarkshire, he grew up in Culross on the family estate. Cochrane distinguished himself during the Napoleonic Wars and was nicknamed Le Loup des Mers by the French - The Sea Wolf. He was dismissed from his position in 1814 following a controversial conviction for fraud. His next move was to organise and lead the rebel forces of Chile and Brazil during their respective successful wars of independence through the 1820s. While in charge of the Chilean marine forces, Cochrane also contributed to Peruvian independence. Clearly a guy who got around!

In 1832, he was pardoned by the Crown and reinstated in the Royal Navy. After several promotions, he died in 1860 with the rank of Admiral of the Red, and the honorary title of Rear-Admiral of the United Kingdom. His tomb is on the floor of Westminster Abbey directly in front of the choir. Cochrane's life and exploits inspired several examples of naval fiction, particularly the figures of C. S. Forester's Horatio Hornblower and Patrick O'Brian's protagonist Jack Aubrey. I wandered past the historic Town House - once the legal and commercial centre of the burgh - before making my way up the narrow cobbled streets towards the Mercat Cross - a common feature in a Royal Burgh, usually at the junction of several roads. It was pleasing to have the opportunity to snap this Scheduled Ancient Monument without parked cars intruding in the background. An A-listed structure, the shaft and unicorn head are replacements dating from 1902 but the octagonal base is the 16th-century original. Culross truly is a fascinating place that has somehow remained frozen in time. It's so interesting to poke around and discover all the little nooks and crannies. There are a few cafés and a traditional pub where you can rest your legs and wet your thrapple afterwards. I hiked up to the site of the abbey, which contains a mixture of ruins and the modern functioning church (itself incorporating far older parts). Again, places I know well, but I wanted to gain the full pilgrim experience. The Cistercian abbey was formally established in 1217 and experienced many changes during its existence. Following the Reformation of 1560, monastic life came to an end and the domestic buildings were largely left to fall into disrepair. The A-listed manse was built upon the site of the old west range in 1637 and the square tower is even older, dating from around 1500. The present parish church has been in continuous use since 1633 but underwent modernisation in 1824 and further renovations at the start of the 20th century. A real mish-mash of the ancient and not so old but reflective of shifting times and religious preferences. I strolled around the graveyard and poked my head through the open doorway carved into the wall for a look at the adjacent mansion house, another building that has seen several alterations since it's initial construction in 1604. A grassy path led me back to sea level and I passed the foundations of Mungo's Chapel next to the main road before cutting along past the site of the vanished railway station and over the tracks towards the water's edge.

It was then a case of walking parallel to the railway line that once hugged the shoreline at this point, but now has the bulwark of "Preston Island" in between. The brainchild of industrial baron Robert Preston (he did actually have the aristocratic title too) now sits amid a wider land reclamation project with the upshot that the original coal and salt production centre is now part of a peninsula. The area is however still referred to as Preston Island and forms part of a popular circular walk. The remains of the mines and salt pans can be viewed from behind a chicken-wire fence. This loop isn't included on the FPW and I battered on in a straight line. I passed through the neighbouring coastal villages of Newmills and Torryburn that ring the mudflats of Torry Bay. Local "witch" Lilias Adie is interred on the foreshore below a large slab and her tragic life story has attracted national media attention over the last few years. I have written extensively about this on other blog posts. Nicole and I often come down this way to watch the wading birds go about their business. Curlews, redshank, shelduck, widgeon and oystercatchers are regular visitors. I took a minor detour by Craigflower House, which seemed preferable to simply following the pavement alongside the B9037. Once the centrepiece of an extensive estate, the mansion house is now a block of modern apartments. It had stood empty for a couple of decades since Craigflower School closed its doors in 1979. BBC political anchor-man Andrew Marr was a "Craigie boy" and the building dates from 1860. The grounds have partly reverted to wilderness and a couple of core paths thread their way through. New housing developments have sprung up on parts of the old estate. Rather than re-join the main road and make the unappetising trek up to Cairneyhill, I followed a woodland path that shadows the Torry Burn. I was aware the route suffers from erosion but it was fine on a dry morning. I normally make it a rule not to deviate from the prescribed path by anything more than a trivial amount but on this occasion I granted myself special dispensation. Besides, Susan Beech who runs the excellent Fife Walking website had recommended it! I saw a couple voluntarily trimming back some of the encroaching vegetation. Nice that people make this kind of effort. On my phone, I noticed an argument was brewing about the shooting of wildfowl. I had posted on this very topic half an hour beforehand after spotting a sign at Torry Bay confirming the practice is permitted, but under certain conditions. I don't understand why people feel the need to roam around with a gun in this day and age, killing wildlife for nothing more than amusement. No doubt it makes them feel masculine. Never heard of a woman blasting away with a shooter. Maybe a few birds get eaten but I bet most die needlessly. Silly boys with dangerous toys. Hitting back with statements about countless farm animals being slaughtered every year is beside the point. Ah, nothing like a good social media flare-up!

I paused mid-walk for a cup of tea at my own gaff in Cairneyhill before resuming the trek to Dunfermline. Nicky's Garage in our village used to serve a great range of hot and cold takeaway food and Nicky herself always gave customers a friendly welcome. She has moved on to pastures new and the garage still operates in an unmanned capacity. Pay at the pump with your card. Handy to have fuel available on your doorstep but not the same as the old business. I turned off the main road to follow a network of farm tracks and footpaths that would take me to the edge of Dunfermline. I passed a cottage where several ancient rusting cars sit in the garden, slowly being consumed by vegetation. Interesting for me as among them are Rover and Triumph models driven by my dad back when I was a lad. I haven't quite worked if the vehicles are there for ornamental purposes or are simply old junk. I remember I once found a seriously corroded Ford Anglia (none were made after 1968) in the long grass on the fringes of an old estate just a handful of miles distant. It certainly makes you aware of your advancing years when cars you remember being common sights of your childhood are now regarded as vintage or classic. I had to navigate a few residential streets in Crossford before reverting to a farm road and then a lovely grassy right of way towards Dunfermline. I could see the top of the abbey church in the distance and I finally felt like a true pilgrim. Pittencrieff Park is situated on the western fringe of the town and I was soon within its extensive boundaries. Known to locals as Dunfermline Glen (or simply The Glen), the park was gifted to the people in 1903 after being purchased by former resident Andrew Carnegie. Formerly a private estate with the historic Pittencrieff House at its centre, the transfer to the folk of Dunfermline was enabled by Carnegie donating part of his enormous fortune to his place of birth. The son of a weaver, he had left for America with his family at the age of 12 - only the second time he had ever left his hometown (the first occasion being a trip to Edinburgh to see Queen Victoria on tour). Settling in Pennsylvania, Carnegie began his new life in the States as a bobbin boy in a cotton mill, working alongside his father. Young Andrew subsequently became a telegraph messenger in Pittsburgh and had the ability to memorise all the locations of the city's businesses and the faces of important men. His reputation as diligent worker gained him promotion and his passion for reading was boosted by Colonel James Anderson, who opened his personal library of 400 volumes to working boys each Saturday night. He was so grateful of this free educational opportunity that he resolved - if wealth ever came his way - to provide similar learning facilities for other children from humble backgrounds.

At the age of 18, Carnegie began working for the railway and through a series of (initially small) investments, he gradually accumulated capital. He eventually moved into the iron and steel trade and earned a vast fortune. At one time he was reckoned to be the wealthiest man in America - possibly the world. Carnegie always maintained "the man who dies rich, thus dies disgraced" and when he reached retirement age, he sold many of his assets for huge sums of money and embarked upon a programme of philanthropy. The foundation stones of the world's first Carnegie Library had already been laid in the centre of Dunfermline when Andrew and his mother visited their hometown in 1881. It stands in the same spot today and I have just renewed a couple of book loans as I type. I've been a enthusiastic user of public libraries ever since my folks took me to the children's section of the Lochgelly lending facility at the age of six. To the best of my knowledge, I've had a borrowing card with the Fife Library Service ever since. In the days before Google, you had to go to a physical library to look up facts and figures. While it's fantastic that we now have a previously unimaginable amount of material at our fingertips, it's pleasing to note that traditional libraries are still well patronised. The internet didn't kill them off. That was never going to happen. TV didn't destroy radio either. The library adapted to the technology as it always has done. You can now search the entire catalogue online and make reservations at leisure. An email or text message alerts you when your book is ready for collection. I remember the days when you wrote a request on one side of a blank postcard and your address on the other. You paid for the stamp and the card would be mailed to you when your requested volume arrived. Even at university in the mid-90s, this system was still partially in operation. I was able to browse the titles on a computer but I was informed by mail when they became available. Eventually, around 2500 free Carnegie Libraries were established around the globe. The Dunfermline branch opened in 1883 and was recently extended to include the new town museum. Andrew believed passionately in the value of education and also donated many millions to colleges and universities across the USA and UK. On a more local level, the trust fund he established for Dunfermline financed public amenities such as the theatre, swimming pool and of course Pittencrieff Park. When he died 1919, Andrew Carnegie had given away an estimated 350 million dollars.

The Pilgrim Way took me through the Glen and I finished up for the day at the entrance to Dunfermline Abbey. The modern church on the site has "King Robert The Bruce" carved into the balustrade around the square tower. I had another eight miles ahead of me a week later when I took a bus out to North Queensferry to begin the alternative leg from the Firth of Forth to Dunfermline. As the name suggests, the port has a royal heritage and the regular sailing to and from the West Lothian side was established by Queen (also Saint) Margaret of Scotland, wife of Malcolm the Third. After spending her childhood in Hungary, Margaret returned to England and married into the Scottish Royal Family in 1070. She is said to have used the ferry service on a regular basis for travelling between Edinburgh Castle and the capital Dunfermline. She died in 1093 and was canonised in 1250. After many centuries of service, the importance of the Queen's Ferry began to diminish after the opening of the Forth Bridge in 1890. A few decades beforehand, the traditional crossing had been threatened by the new Granton to Burntisland link which had a rail terminus on each bank. This venture was superseded by the grand bridge but the original ferry route clung on and gained a new lease of life as motor transport became increasingly popular and was floated across the firth on large vessels. By the 1960s, this arrangement had turned into a major bottleneck and a road bridge was duly constructed, thereby consigning the ferry to history.

I alighted next to the Old Town Pier, which was supplanted in 1920 by a larger facility on the western side of the town. A tiny lighthouse stands on the quayside and is open to the public during daytime hours. The lamp is fully functional and was lit by the Princess Royal in a 2010 re-opening ceremony. Access was denied today for obvious reasons but normally you can climb the narrow staircase into the control room and learn about the technical aspects of safely guiding ships through treacherous waters. The Pilgrim Way and the Fife Coastal Path share the same route to Inverkeithing and as I climbed up to the clifftops, I enjoyed tremendous views of the Forth Bridge. I never get tired of viewing this spectacular piece of Victorian engineering and to many it is the eighth wonder of the world.

The trail took me around Carlingnose point and the elevation allowed me to look across to Dalgety Bay and further downstream. I traversed the obscure sandy beach at Port Laing and approached Inner Bay at Inverkeithing. This is still an area of heavy industry and shipbreaking was once the dominant activity here. Some of the most iconic navy vessels and ocean-going liners were dismantled in this corner of Fife, including HMS Dreadnought and RMS Olympic - sister ship of the doomed Titanic. I trekked uphill to Inverkeithing town centre and paused for a rest in the gardens behind the old Franciscan Friary (pictured above). This A-listed building is one of the finest examples of its kind in the country and has parts dating from the 14th century. It mainly functions as a community facility nowadays and I have been fortunate enough to take a tour of the place on Doors Open Day. Inverkeithing was granted Royal Burgh status in the 12th century and there are several historical sights dotted around the High Street area. Sadly, it doesn't feature too heavily on the tourist trail and many people will simply motor on down the M90 completely oblivious to the existence of this old port town. It does have a principal railway station on the East Coast Main Line though, and passengers can change here for local Fife services. There is also a major bus hub within easy walking distance. It's not a difficult place to reach. The Pilgrim Way is well signposted but you have to keep your eyes peeled in busy streets where the markers are often placed on lamp-posts. A sharp left uphill turn is required in the middle of Inverkeithing and you cross the M90 on a footbridge before descending into Rosyth. There is a rather boring stretch of pavement walking alongside the A985 but you are then rewarded with the most peaceful rural section on this leg. The former agricultural hamlet of Pattiesmuir has a cemetery with over 300 graves (from several countries) and the path skirts the boundary. Now a designated conservation area, Pattiesmuir sits back from the main road and offers a welcome relief from the thundering traffic. The settlement was also a centre for handweaving but this cottage industry ceased around 1870 due to the increasing dominance of the power loom. The Douglas Bank Cemetery borders the conservation area to the northwest. The site was chosen during the First World War and intended to serve Dunfermline new town, the civil boundaries of which had been extended to include Rosyth and Pattiesmuir. Tours are conducted for Doors Open Day.

For the first time, the walk takes on a genuine rural feel as you wander along pleasant paths through the countryside. Dunfermline can be seen in the distance. I passed a farmhouse before joining the pavement alongside the B9156 - a quiet road leading into the bottom end of Dunfermline. I crossed over the Longannet railway branch and reached McKane Park - home of Dunfermline Rugby Club for the past 100 years. A goods rail depot was once situated here and this was the rendezvous point for the three trains that brought the spectacular Buffalo Bill Wild West Show to Dunfermline in 1904. As I approached the town, I could see Pittencrieff House sitting in a nicely elevated position among the trees in the Glen. A long-term purpose is being sought for the building after the museum within was considered redundant following the opening of the new facility as part of the Carnegie Library extension. I entered the bottom gates to the Glen and took the path that tracks the Tower Burn. Wagtail can often be spotted here, not to mention innumerable grey squirrels. The stream runs through a steep gully and an attractive man-made waterfall feature is passed. A more genuine historical site is Wallace's Well, once used by the townsfolk as a source of pure water. Legendary freedom fighter William Wallace is said to have visited Dunfermline on two occasions and he allegedly drank his fill at the well. Lady Margaret Crawford - the mother of Wallace - is buried in the nearby abbey churchyard beneath a thorn tree. She too was on a pilgrimage, to the shrine of Saint Margaret. Such exalted footsteps I was following! As you might expect, Pittencrieff Park has seen many changes in its 120-year history as a public amenity. It still regularly wins awards and attracts visitors from far and wide. I passed below the curious bridge-built-on-a bridge. A very similar example can be found at Rumbling Bridge on the boundary of Perthshire and Kinross-Shire. The double bridge in the Glen dates from 1788 when estate owner Captain Phin raised the viaduct to a convenient height by building two storeys – arch above arch. Above the upper tier is a shield cut out in stone showing the Captain’s arms, featuring two pelicans. One standing erect and another picking at its breast. The structure carries the road leading in from the abbey towards Pittencrieff House, past the remains of Malcolm's Tower.

I climbed up the steps to inspect the remains of the tower base. It would have occupied a good defensive position, looking over the deep ravine carrying the burn. Dunfermline became the seat of Scottish royalty in the mid-11th century and the first written reference to the tower was in 1070 when Malcolm III married Princess Margaret. All that survives today are foundational fragments of wall but an image of the structure was adopted at an early date on the town's Burgh Arms. Old wax seals suggest it had two storeys with an attic. The tower might have contained around twenty small apartments. And so to the destination of Dunfermline Abbey for the second time in a few days. The new church was constructed in 1821 and many tourists come to view the ornate tomb of King Robert the Bruce, who of course led the Scots to success at the Battle of Bannockburn in 1314. When foundation work for the modern building was in progress, the resting place of Bruce - who had been buried in the choir of the Old Abbey in 1329 - was rediscovered and the remains were sensitively reinterred within a new housing, marked by a full size brass gifted by the Earl of Elgin (a direct descendent) in 1889. Robert's heart of course is missing, having been taken in a lead casket on a journey to the Holy Land before burial at Melrose Abbey, Roxburghshire. King David I formally established the abbey at Dunfermline and it became renowned as the burial place of many Scottish Kings and Queens. The first to be laid to rest was Queen Margaret (later St Margaret) in 1093, and the final Royal tomb contained Robert, the infant son of James VI and Anne of Denmark, in 1602. The ill-fated Charles I of Scotland and England came into the world at Dunfermline Palace. He was the final monarch born on Scottish soil. The palace was last used in an official capacity for a visit by Charles II in 1651 and thereafter fell into decline. Today you can pay an entrance fee to view the remaining parts. The ticket also covers the remains of the original abbey. Entrance to the modern church - which contains a small museum - is free. It is also delightful to stroll around the graveyard and from here it is merely a few steps to the town museum and the A-listed Abbot House - reckoned to be the oldest building in Dunfermline, dating back to at least the 16th century. Following a dispute over the lease and five years of enforced closure, Abbot House is now undergoing a programme of renovation with plans to reopen in a phased approach. The gift shop began trading in August 2020 and progress with the rest of the building has been hampered by the pandemic. Hopefully this historic pink-painted house will again be welcoming visitors soon. Even better if the café returns too!

This brought me to the convergence of the two initial sea-to-abbey routes and from here my sister and I are planning an assault on the rest of the trail. The next trek will be from Dunfermline to Kelty - another eight miles. It's worth pointing out the Pilgrim Way was created with public transport in mind. The theory is you can spilt the route into manageable stages with a direct bus connection back to your starting point. This of course relies upon the transport planners not making too many changes to the network. Another aim was to give economically challenged communities (e.g. ex mining) a boost by routing the Pilgrim Way through them. Who knows if the actual benefits will be significant but it certainly can't do any harm. Walkers need refreshments and nibbles to keep them going and many like to rest their weary legs in a pub or café after several miles on the go. I personally see quite a few groups passing through Cairneyhill who are obviously kitted up to tackle the trail. Solo walkers and couples are less conspicuous but any money they spend along the way will add up to a tidy sum. The next suggested stage on the official map was Dunfermline to Kelty - a distance of eight and a half miles. Due to time constraints, we opted to cut this in half. Linda and I arranged to meet in the abbey churchyard and we wandered past the Carnegie Library and the new museum that has been built alongside. Up to the High Street then out towards Carnegie Hall before picking up the course of the old Upper railway line that once ran through the middle of town. The station was blitzed around 1990 and replaced by a retail park. Passenger services had ceased way back in 1968 and all trains to Edinburgh were then routed through the Lower station, now known as Dunfermline Town. The line from the Upper station to Stirling was removed in the late 80s, having only been used for freight for the previous two decades. It now functions as a cycle path as far as Clackmannan. We were walking in the opposite direction towards the present-day Queen Margaret station, where the Upper and Lower lines formerly split. This mile-long path passes alongside the cemetery and is flanked by new housing developments. A nice tranquil section. The prospects of this railway ever being restored are highly unlikely. Efforts to reconnect Dunfermline with Alloa, Stirling and ultimately Glasgow revolve around the mothballed goods line that supplied the now-demolished Longannet power station.

The path went by Leys Park Care Home. Built as the town poorhouse and later serving as a hospital, this place had a double family connection for us. My paternal gran spent her final days here while my maternal grandparents lived in an adjacent cottage shortly after their marriage. The old railway trail ended at Queen Margaret Station. This commuter halt opened in 2000 and is a useful addition to the local public transport network. We then had to hike up the pavement past Queen Margaret Hospital. The maternity wing opened in 1985 followed by the general hospital eight years later. In 2012, NHS Fife decided to concentrate A&E admissions on Victoria Hospital in Kirkcaldy, a controversial move that meant the still-new facility at Dunfermline became a much quieter operation. My only visit for personal attention was when I cracked my ribs during a game of football. After some poking and prodding, I was handed a packet of painkillers and sent on my merry way. We crossed an old mineral railway now converted to a footpath and - after checking the access point - I made a mental note to bring my dad along in the summer for a run on his mobility scooter. We soon joined a walkway that parallels the B912 up to the village of Kingseat. This route provides locals with a safe way to access Dunfermline on foot. The path elevation opened up excellent views across Dunfermline towards the Forth Bridges. We wandered through Kingseat and noticed a train sculpture. Although there was never a passenger station here, a web of mineral lines ran close by as the village was surrounded by several pits. After leaving the village, we turned on to a long tarmac drive that led past a secluded house and brought us to the shores of Loch Fitty - a popular angling spot. A causeway cut across a corner of the loch and the path took us past a riding centre and emerged at the Lassodie war memorial. This was our end point for the day and a bus stop was handily sited just across the road. As luck would have it, we had just missed a connection and the next one was due in half an hour. The wind was chilly and we began walking back to Kingseat to keep warm.

Every town and village has a memorial to the men who fell in both world wars. Passers by may wonder why this one stands alone in the middle of nowhere. Once home to 2000 people, the mining village of Lassodie counted Sir Sean Connery as a childhood visitor. His grandparents lived there in the early 1930s - the decade when the local mines closed, forcing many villagers to up sticks. In the days before social security payments, no work meant no money. Local amenities included a Post Office, tavern, two Co-op branches, a primary school, village hall and church. The population haemorrhage was compounded by the fact that many houses were owned by the coal company and tenants were given compulsory notice to leave when mining operations wound down. In an unexpected development, the ghost village hosted a retreat facility within the former church and manse. The aim was to provide a venue for those seeking something further in their Christian life. Interested parties could come for solitude, fellowship, conference, discussion and prayer. One such visitor was the renowned Olympic athlete Eric Liddell. The venture lasted just a few years and by the 1940s, the church buildings and remaining village properties had been demolished. Extensive opencast mining in the area subsequently wiped out any traces of the fact a thriving community once existed here, leaving the war memorial to commemorate not just the dead but the very presence of Lassodie itself. Linda and I picked up the trail again on a holiday Monday and we decided to get around by bus for the day. Service 7B from Dunfermline dropped us at the Lassodie memorial and we proceeded into the former St Ninian's opencast mining site. After coal extraction ceased, the expansive area was supposed to be transformed into Scotland's biggest land art park, known as the Fife Earth Project - conceived by renowned American architect Charles Jencks. Preliminary landscaping was carried out but the initiative was holed below the waterline in 2013 when landowners Scottish Coal went into administration. A sculpted hill and large artificial lake were left behind. Some strange industrial themed artwork was plonked on the summit and the place was more or less abandoned. Noises were subsequently made about the construction of a £10 million steel spire dedicated to the Scottish mining industry but little more has been heard about this idea. The odd report surfaces regarding potential developers buying the site but until I see the wonga spread out on the table, I shall remain highly sceptical.

We navigated the wide (and very stony) industrial roadways and were soon in the more pleasing confines of Blairadam Forest on the other side of the B914. Once a huge private estate with coal mining operations taking place within its policies, much of the woodland at Blairadam is now managed by the Forestry Commission. Various family friendly walking trails have been created and there is plenty of evidence of the industrial heritage to discover if you keep your eyes peeled. Indeed, one of the colour-coded routes is titled the Mine Trail. The Pilgrim Way cuts across a mere corner of the woodland - past the engraving of the Beast of Blairadam upon an old railway bridge abutment - before passing below the M90 and through a pleasant green valley leading to the tiny village of Keltybridge. At this point the path strays briefly into the Shire of Kinross. We soon cross back over the Kelty Burn and return to the Kingdom. A tall sign for the County of Kinross stands by the ancient B-Listed bridge. The sign has somehow survived over the decades as local government entities moved away from the traditional counties into the realms of Regions and the modern Council Areas. This has resulted in some administrative councils having a "shire" suffix but not actually reflecting the true historic borders that stretch back many centuries - long before the United Kingdom was founded. Thankfully, the proper counties are now gaining increased roadside recognition in some parts of Scotland and a Kinross-shire banner has been appended to the Perth & Kinross Council signage at the appropriate intersections with other shires (although not - as yet - internally). I digress! We navigated a couple of residential streets at the bottom of Kelty before picking up part of an old mineral line that once ran from Blairadam Estate to a junction with the main Kinross line (sadly closed in 1970) at Kelty Station - which bolted its doors forever in 1930 due to competition from buses and trams for the local journey market. Yes, railway closures began decades before Dr Beeching waded in with his axe. We then crossed the main road and entered Lochore Meadows Country Park.

Known locally as the Meedies, this popular leisure facility was created in the late 70s by reclaiming land from the mining industry. A total of seven pits were sunk in the area over the years. This process of heavy coal extraction left a scarred landscape with large pools of water forming due to subsidence. The original Loch Ore had been purposely drained around 1790 in an attempt to improve the agricultural prospects of the estate. This met with only limited success and farming gave way to industry, with the last mine closing in 1966. A new loch was sculpted and the islands you see today are parts of an old railway embankment. The park is now a major centre for water sports but is also tremendously popular among residents from the surrounding villages. The trail took us round half the loch perimeter and the adventure playpark thronged with young children enjoying the final day of their long weekend off school. Benarty Hill dominated the skyline and I'd enjoyed a fine early-morning climb up there just the previous weekend. The plateau summit offers an amazing view over Loch Leven into the flat plain of Kinross-shire. I ascended on the Fife side and gazed across two largely man-made bodies of water in this corner of the Kingdom - Loch Ore and the lake that fills the deep hole at the former Westfield gas plant. Back to today, the visitors centre was completely revamped in 2017 and our final destination was the café within. Named after legendary communist councillor Willie Clarke, the enlarged building outlined the history of the Meedies on the café walls and we looked out across the park from our window seat. We even caught sight of Ferdinand, a white goose who has been causing quite a stir on Facebook. He spends all his time among the much larger swans, who seem to tolerate this interloper. I was impressed with the new facility and it is a lovely tribute to Mr Clarke, who served 43 years in public office and tirelessly represented the community. It is entirely fitting that Willie was able to personally declare the centre open. He passed away the following year. Having recharged our batteries, we heading for the exit, noting the row of heavy-duty mobility scooters available to use without payment. Must bring Dad down here sometime for a whizz around the loch.

We headed for the main gate on the B920, passing the crumbling remains of Lochore Castle - once described as the strongest fortress in Fife. A ruined 14-century tower house, the castle originally stood upon an island within the natural confines of Loch Ore, prior to the draining procedure. Construction began around 1308 upon the site of a previous defence and the walls of the new castle were massively thick at around 10 feet across. The building was reportedly in ruins by 1710 and, by the end of that century, seems to have become popular with artists. The remains were usually sketched as a picturesque offering, rising from the island location. Several drawings from this period show the main keep standing to almost its full height and the courtyard wall and corner towers largely intact with some of the ancillary buildings still visible within the compound. When the loch was wiped from the landscape, stone robbed from the castle was used to line drainage channels that diverted the natural inflow. The property eventually ended up in the hands of the Lochore Coal Company and continued to decline. The formation of the country park sparked renewed interest in the historic fortress and Scheduled Monument consent was finally granted by Historic Environment Scotland in 2015 to permit consolidation. Brick pillars were inserted to support overhanging masonry, stabilise the walls and prevent further collapse. Satisfied with our day's walking, we hopped on a number 19 bus bound for Dunfermline. Linda got off in Lochgelly to connect with a Kirkcaldy service and I completed a public transport journey that I made innumerable times in my younger days. The next walking stage would take us to the new town of Glenrothes via Cardenden and Kinglassie. The 19 brought me back to the entrance for Lochore Meadows but today we were heading away from the country park and a network of paths wound pleasantly through the fields, offering nice views of the surrounding hills. We investigated a signed short detour for Hare Law Cairn - raided by Victorian excavators who unearthed cists and urns. The burial site was left open overnight to allow locals to view the discoveries but the treasures had all been stolen before dawn. Now there is just a grassy mound with a tree planted on top.

That was an unexpected little tale to kick-start the journey. We paused for lunch before reaching the edge of Cardenden - a town with which I have very strong family connections. My dad was born here in 1942 but moved up the road to Lochgelly as a toddler. Mum came into the world at Forth Park Maternity Hospital, Kirkcaldy, but grew up in Bowhill, a local name for the central part of Cardenden. Both of my paternal grandparents were born and raised around here too. The trail didn't go into Cardenden and instead we followed the pavement alongside the road to Kinglassie for a couple of miles. Not the most exciting stretch of the Pilgrim Way. I noticed the old freight railway link to the (now closed) Westfield gas and coal plant was becoming heavily overgrown. Must walk it before the vegetation engulfs the tracks. Strangely, the line is still technically open as it's connected to the Fife Circle route at Thornton Yard. Kinglassie has a population of 2000 and a handful of shops. One of my great grandmothers came from the village. Originally inhabited by weavers, mining arrived in the 19th century and became the dominant industry. The local pit closed in 1967 although opencast extraction continued at Westfield for a number of years. Gas was also produced here by the high-pressure Lurgi process, reckoned to meet 20% of Scotland's total needs. This was superseded by North Sea natural gas in the mid-70s. We could see the artificial lake created on the huge brownfield site - at one time considered to be the largest opencast operation in the UK. Local legend insists the accompanying cavity was the deepest hole in Europe! Well Nessie, if you're ever in the market for a holiday home... The financial collapse of Scottish Coal in 2013 put an end to mining at Westfield and the complex is now up for sale and rumoured to soon be the home of a recycling company. After traversing most of the main drag, we turned abruptly up a path leading to the ridge overlooking the village. Extensive views appeared as height was gained and we followed the grass strip beside a wheat field. In the distance stood Blythe's Tower - a folly constructed in 1812. The four-storey building is 52 ft high and built of rubble with ashlar string courses. It is category-B listed. The interior was formerly floored to allow access to an observation platform. Owned by a linen merchant to view ships as they entered the Forth, it allegedly gave him the opportunity to procure the best goods at port. During World War II, the tower was used as a look-out station by the Home Guard.

Halfway up the mound was a 400-yard detour to St Finglassin's Well. The ancient spring is said to have refreshed travellers in days gone by and today the location has been enhanced by the efforts of a local stonemason. A wooden bench has also been installed and we rested our legs while sipping from refilled bottles. We couldn't quite figure out why the Pilgrim Way hadn't been routed through this historic spot, particularly as an informal track appeared to run down to the main road. Land ownership issues, no doubt. Back on the ridge, we passed by a farm before meeting a minor road. We reasoned that Fife Airport couldn't be far away as several microlight planes flew overhead. Unbelievably, a story appeared in the press the following day about an aircraft being forced to crash land in this very field. We must have just missed it! Fortunately nobody sustained serious injury. The path descended to the River Leven and we followed its course to the outskirts of Leslie before switching to residential streets. We then crossed the river on the impressive 14-arch curving railway viaduct that carried a branch line. Passenger traffic ceased in 1932 but freight trains served the paper mill until 1967. The viaduct was opened in 1861 and my great-great grandfather George Fraser worked upon its construction. He had moved down from Inverness-shire and married a local woman. I was traversing a lot of family history today! After years of decay, the viaduct was refurbished as a cycleway in 2003. We continued downstream for a mile and a half before reaching Town Park in Glenrothes. This seemed a suitable point to leave the trail as the bus station wasn't far away. We had covered over 9 miles and decided to treat ourselves to a meal at Burger King before boarding our respective buses back home. I had successfully managed to avoid hearing the result of the Women's Football World Cup final and I watched a recording of England defeating Germany 2-1 when I returned home. Linda was rather nonplussed that she had chosen the most circuitous bus route back to Kirkcaldy, letting me know via text messages. The following Sunday we reconvened at Glenrothes Bus Station for an 8-mile hike to Kennoway. We picked up the official trail at the River Leven and crossed over to exit Fife's newest town (planned in the late 1940s) via sports fields and a housing scheme.

A pedestrian crossing over the busy A92 led us into Balbirnie Park and almost immediately we came across a stone circle. The burial site is reckoned to be around 5000 years old, although contemporary pilgrims do not commune with the original place of worship. The stones were moved 120 yards when the road underwent a widening exercise. A lovely wander through the parkland ensued although the waymarking was a little vague in places. Nevertheless, we knew the centre of Markinch had to be negotiated and we worked our way towards the town that was once regarded as the capital of Fife. Cupar became the county town in the 13th century and since 1974 the Kingdom's administrative headquarters have been located in Glenrothes. The new town was never granted a railway station but Markinch is a stop on the East Coast Main Line. Papermaking was a major local employer and the Tullis Russell mill was in operation until 2015. Nicole was part of the workforce prior to administration and closure. A historic landmark in the middle of Markinch is the Stob Cross. A stone monument possibly marking the limit of a territory associated with the early Christian church, the cross has stood in the same spot for many centuries. The town was once a popular lodging location for medieval pilgrims. The popularity of this passage led to the creation of a network of roads, bridges, almshouses and - of course - inns. Jesus would most certainly have approved! Passing under the railway, we spent the next three miles on field boundary paths, mainly alongside a burn. It was a nice quiet section, although largely featureless. We didn't meet a single person on this stretch and it has to be said the Pilgrim Way is decidedly less busy than the Fife Coastal Path. Onwards we pushed and the large village of Kennoway hove into view. We walked almost a mile of pavement beside the A916 before reaching the cluster of shops and bus turning circle. Awaiting a service back to Glenrothes, we came to the conclusion that the trail didn't by-pass the village through the attractive wooded den because part of the reason for establishing the new walking route was to bring economic benefits to businesses off the beaten track. We had now done three quarters of the total.

It was now October and I had my usual fortnight off work. I suggested to Linda we tackle the penultimate stage while there were still sufficient daylight hours. We used the X61 bus (boarding at different points) to reach Kennoway and walked to the edge of the town before branching into the countryside. This pleasant rural stage had minimal road walking (even then, only minor routes) and we wouldn't encounter any civilisation until the final destination of Ceres. Height was steadily gained and there were nice views of Largo Law in the distance. A navigational problem occurred in the woods where passage was blocked due to tree felling operations. We couldn't figure out if there was a detour but - as luck would have it - a Fife Council ranger appeared on the scene and pointed us in the right direction. Once on the alternative path, it was easy enough to circumvent the huge pile of toppled timber. We skirted the picturesque Clatto Reservoir - apparently the only section of the Pilgrim Way that did not make use of pre-existing routes. The reservoir was constructed in 1874 to supply Cupar, the county town. No longer used for this purpose, Clatto is now a quiet nature reserve. We found a couple of large rocks to sit on to eat lunch and then crossed varied terrain to join Waterless Road for the final trek downhill to Ceres. Part of the ancient pilgrim route to St Andrews, the Waterless Road was used by Archbishop James Sharp - whose support for Episcopalianism (governance by bishops, usually appointed by the monarch), brought him into conflict with elements of the kirk who advocated Presbyterianism (rule by Elders, nominated by their congregations). Twice the victim of assassination attempts, the second strike cost Sharp his life at Magus Muir, three miles west of St Andrews. In 1679, a group of nine Covenanters, led by David Hackston and John Balfour, were hoping to ambush the Sheriff of Cupar. A Sharp appointee, the Sheriff was a prominent figure in the persecution of Covenanters but had apparently got wind of the proposed attack and had opted to stay at home. Learning Sharp's coach was on its way, the group intercepted this vehicle instead. Sharp was stabbed several times in front of his daughter Isabella, before being killed by a shot to the chest. Another casualty of religious conflict. Nothing new there! We arrived in Ceres, one of the few places in Scotland to have a traditional village green. The excellent Fife Folk Museum is located here and the village hosts the longest-running Highland Games, said to have been held every year since 1314 after Robert the Bruce granted the village permission to hold them in commemoration of its men's participation in the Battle of Bannockburn.

We passed a quaint café but our bus was due in 10 minutes and we decided to have a closer look at Ceres next time around. Six days later, we arrived on the X61 to complete the final leg of the Pilgrim Way. After a scout around the village centre, we crossed the historic stone-arch bridge over the burn and headed out on a path that led between the fields. Ceres sits in a dip and was historically the final overnight stay for those making their way to the shrine of St Andrew. We soon gained height, pausing on a stone bench to admire the valley view. We gingerly crept past a herd of cows that had strayed close to the designated pathway. We passed over Kinninmonth Hill and then followed a quiet minor road that skirted Drumcarrow Craig. Suddenly the sea was visible in the distance and Linda remarked how it must have been an encouraging sight for the original pilgrims. The pleasant hamlet of Denhead was encountered and the path led into a patch of woodland. Upon exit, we were presented with a fine panorama of St Andrews, a couple of miles away from our elevated position. We passed a golf course before proceeding into Craigtoun Country Park. A bench by the boating pond was a nice spot to eat lunch and a miniature tractor-drawn train named Puffing Billy trundled past. The 47-acre park thronged with families enjoying the October school holidays and a range of activities were on offer, including crazy golf, pedal go-carts, trampolines and an adventure playground. Some of the attractions require a fee and both day and annual passes are available. The grounds were formerly part of the Mount Melville Estate. A new mansion house was constructed in 1901 by the Younger family, a major Scottish brewing dynasty. The esteemed Paul Waterhouse was hired to design the fabric of the private parkland which forms the bulk of today's public amenity - including the various gardens, cypress avenue and temple. In 1920, Waterhouse was commissioned to carry out further work and he added the two connected lakes and the picturesque island village. Like many country houses at the time, the large ponds were likely created to comply with insurance requirements for a ready supply of water in case of fire. Upon the death of James Younger in 1946, the estate was acquired by Fife Council and the mansion converted to a maternity hospital. The gardens were rebadged as Craigtoun Country Park.

The 1960s proved a peak for visitor numbers and attractions included a bowling green, a stage for regular Sunday concerts, spectacular glasshouses, miniature railway, putting and crazy golf, rowing and motor boats and the aforementioned Puffing Billy. The end of each season was marked in September with the Craigtoun Illuminations – a spectacular fireworks display. With the park under threat of closure after a period of decline, the Friends of Craigtoun took over the running of the place in 2012, while Fife Council continued to maintain the gardens. The maternity hospital had closed back in 1992. We eventually reached the centre of St Andrews and the streets were bustling with students. The ancient university town is an essential destination in its own right and the trail led to the ruined cathedral. Built in 1158, it became the centre of the Medieval Catholic Church in Scotland but fell into disuse and ruin after mass was outlawed during the 16th-century Scottish Reformation. The site is now in the custody of Historic Environment Scotland but partly fenced off at the moment due to structural concerns. The ruins indicate the building was approximately 390 feet long and it was the largest church ever constructed in Scotland. Linda and I looked for some form of acknowledgement that our quest had ended but we couldn't see any special marker or plaque. Perhaps there is something within the cathedral enclosure, which had closed for the day by the time we arrived. Never mind, we had successfully completed Fife's second long-distance trail. Footsore but happy, we enjoyed a well-earned pint in the Whey Pat Tavern before bussing it back down the road.

Edinburgh Evening Hills

The capital city is built around seven peaks and I picked off a couple on weekday evenings during the late summer and early autumn. It was a useful way of filling in the time between finishing work and attending my monthly German meet-up. A brisk climb followed by a few beers sounded just the ticket. I jumped on the bus in Kirkcaldy and made my way from the middle of Edinburgh towards the ancient extinct volcano Arthur's Seat.

I had done this popular climb a couple of times before, starting at Holyrood Park next to the Scottish Parliament. Arthur's Seat at 823 feet high is the tallest of the city's hills. Standing just east of the centre, the summit provides panoramic views and is recommend to any visitor looking to combine a bout of exercise with the viewing of historical landmarks. Another popular Edinburgh walk is the Queen's Drive which basically loops around the base of Arthur's Seat and the adjoining Salisbury Crags. This route also looks down upon three lochs. Today I opted for a slightly different approach, heading up "The Bridges" and merging with Queen's Drive at a higher level before tackling a sharp ascent known as Piper's Walk. From the bustling Clerk Street, I cut along Rankeillor Street and soon picked up a path atop a ridge that looked across to the Salisbury Crags, now a specialist rock-climbing site for which a permit is required. Meeting Queen's Drive I headed straight over to join Piper's Walk which consisted of uneven stone steps set into the hillside. I rapidly gained height and my pulse increased accordingly. I soon had the camera out to capture the unfolding cityscape. I was taking a direct route to the top and the path is apparently named after a 1778 mutiny by the Seaforth Highlanders protesting against deployment to the East Indies. The regimental piper is said to have paced up and down here. I observed a raven at close quarters and you can't really mistake the bird for the smaller crow at this distance. Eventually the gradient eased and a more forgiving grassy way took me towards the conical stony summit. This still required some scrambling up the rocky outcrop and you can see why some tourists do slip and injure themselves here, especially if they have made the ascent in totally unsuitable footwear. I have personally witnessed someone standing on the peak in flip-flops. Some people suffer a worse fate than a simple stumble, particularly those who stray from the well-defined footpaths. Death by simple accident or misadventure is one thing, but I'd read a report in the local paper this very evening about a girl of 15 who had been abandoned in a state of intoxication on nearby Calton Hill and had lost her life to hypothermia. The press of course made a big thing about the "older male" aspect of the affair but he was just 18, so no big deal there in my book. Neither is the fact they had sought privacy in order to be intimate of any real relevance. The callous nature of the tragedy is that he left her alone when she was unable to make her own way back down. Shocking! Two women were discussing this very case at the top of Arthur's Seat as I approached the concrete trig point. There were a few folk of various nationalities milling around and taking selfies. I nestled between two rocks and pulled out my water bottle when I suddenly noticed a jackdaw right next to me. It sat motionless long enough for me to take a snap with my phone. A real moment of opportunism.

It was time to wander back down and attend the meet-up just a few streets away. Still strictly outdoors for this type of gathering. Ordering was via an app which eventually worked and a large refreshing shandy (oder Radler, auf Deutsch) was plonked upon the table by the waitress. A pleasant evening ensued and I repeated the format the following month, this time making an assault on Corstorphine Hill west of the city centre next to the zoo. It was an up and over job, starting at street level on Queensferry Road and emerging on Corstorphine Road on the other side. A path network spans the ridge-shaped hill, which is also designated as a nature reserve and has extensive tree cover. I quickly gained height and began following signs for Clermiston Tower. On the way, I caught sight of a hillside clearing and walked through the gap in to gain a fine view westwards. The dense woodland means you have to keep your eyes peeled for potential viewpoints while traversing Corstorphine Hill. I did find another gap that revealed a swathe of the city and I suppose the best outlook of all comes from the top of the whinstone tower, which has only limited opening times. The impressive square-plan monument can also be appreciated from ground level and was erected in 1872 to mark the centenary of famous author and Edinburgh man Sir Walter Scott's birth. The tower is now in the care of the City Council, having been gifted to the people in 1932, the centenary of the author's death. The tower has to jostle for position at the summit these days with a transmitter mast but the trees do a good job of shielding the new structure from the old. A 1.2 acre walled garden lies nearby but I didn't really have the time to go and seek it out. It was part of Hillwood House - once the residence of the MacKinnon family who owned the Drambuie whisky liqueur brand - but fell into disuse and became heavily overgrown. The garden has now been restored and is maintained by a charitable organisation known as the Friends of Corstorphine Hill. The intention was to create a microcosm of the vegetation found on the hill and make it accessible as an educational resource, particularly to less-able individuals. Meanwhile, the nine-bedroom Hillwood House recently sold for a reported £4 million - a record Scottish transaction for a private home since the property crash of 2008. It features a cinema, fitness studio and seven acres of grounds. Who knows if the old walled garden is still part of the policies? Perhaps it has been quietly forgotten.

I started to descend the other side of the hill and came close to the zoo boundary fence. I've had a few free days out there in recent years with my work and I enjoy observing the animals and learning new facts about them. Zoos have their fair share of critics but we're now at a stage where many generations of animals have been bred in captivity and there's no way you could safely release them into the wild. Additionally, all the major zoos now actively participate in conservation schemes and provide data to the scientific community. As ever, the entrenched activists select the bits that suit their own agenda and refuse to bend on other matters. This leads to ridiculous situations whereby "animal rights" campaigners trumpet the message that no living being should be put on public display for entertainment purposes. Yet racehorses are bred to compete, circuses do care for their animals. I remember a horse-trainer saying she had invited the PETA representatives to come and inspect her stables any time they liked. But they refuse to engage in any dialogue. That'll move the situation on then! There seems to be a thing in Edinburgh with building golf courses into the sides of hills. Corstorphine is no exception and I reached a viewpoint named "Rest and be Thankful" that overlooked the Ravelston and Murrayfield courses with the city centre prominent in the background. I sat on one of the benches and gazed down the green corridor towards the iconic landmarks of Edinburgh. The scene was referred to by the famous Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson in his classic novel "Kidnapped" (1886) when David Balfour and Alan Breck Stewart part company - "We came the by-way over the hill from Corstorphine; and when we got near to the place called Rest-and-be-Thankful, and looked down on Corstorphine bogs and over to the city and the castle on the hill, we both stopped, for we both knew without a word said that we had come to where our ways parted"

The two characters are depicted in a statue on Corstorphine Road near the foot of the hill. Stevenson was born, raised and educated in the capital city and became on of Scotland's most loved writers. He later travelled extensively across the world but died at the relatively young age of 44, suddenly collapsing from what may have been a cerebral haemorrhage. The 15-feet tall monument was unveiled in 2004 by another legendary citizen of Edinburgh, Sir Sean Connery who was known simply as Big Tam when he worked at the newspaper offices where my dad spent the bulk of his career. Sir Sean once impressed a taxi driver who was ferrying him to a film premiere at the Edinburgh Festival. After hearing his passenger reel off the names of all the streets they passed, the driver enquired as to where this knowledge had been gained. Oh, I used to be a milkman around here came the reply. Upon being asked what he did for a living these days, Big Tam trotted out the immortal line - well that's a wee bit more complicated.

As I took the path back down to street level on the south side, I realised I was on the John Muir Way. This 130-mile trail runs coast to coast from Helensburgh in Dunbartonshire to Dunbar in East Lothian. The path opened in 2014 and honours the man who founded the United States National Park Service and was largely responsible for the establishment of the renowned Yosemite National Park in California. John Muir (1838-1914) was born in Dunbar but emigrated to America at the age of 11. After graduating from university and a short industrial career, he devoted his entire life to nature. He walked from the Midwest to the Gulf of Mexico, keeping a journal - A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf - published posthumously in 1916. As early as 1876, Muir urged the federal government to adopt a forest conservation policy. He became a central figure in the debate over land use, advocating strongly on behalf of preservation primarily through articles in popular periodicals. Muir believed national parks should be protected in their entirety, rendering their resources off-limits to industrial interests. Sequoia and Yosemite national parks were established in 1890, representing a major victory for environmental protection. Muir's conviction that areas of wilderness should be federally protected as nature reserves has given generations of citizens the opportunity to appreciate a diverse range of American landscapes as they exist naturally. Nicole and I have done a leg of the John Muir Way, from Dunbar to East Linton. It's another long-term project to be chipped away at. I emerged on Corstorphine Road and began walking back towards the city centre. The meet-up venue was almost three miles away. I passed the amazing building that had until recently functioned as Donaldson's School for deaf children. A relocation to Linlithgow led to the Gothic pile being sold for development. Conversion to flats is well underway.

Another post-work Edinburgh wander didn't involve climbing a hill but instead exploring the New Town around Stockbridge and following a short section of the river trail. It was a balmy evening and shirt sleeves were the order of the day. I grabbed a meal deal from Tesco at the West End of Princes Street and walked down to the Dean Bridge. It carries the A90 high above the Water of Leith on four arches. It was one of the final projects by esteemed civil engineer Thomas Telford and was completed in 1831.

The Water of Leith flows right through the centre of Edinburgh before entering the sea at the port bearing its name. Rising in the Pentland Hills, it follows a 22 mile course, just over half of which forms a popular walking route known as the Water of Leith Trail. I did the entire thing twice with a walking group from my previous place of work and have done numerous little stretches over the years. In fact, I'm sure I broke in the first pair of hiking boots I ever bought by following the trail from Haymarket to Leith. Four or five miles seemed like a big expedition back then. Nowadays I think nothing of doing double that in one go, even though I'm two decades older. Central Edinburgh is traditionally divided into the Old and New Towns, with Princes Street & Gardens separating the two historical developments. The peaceful oasis of the gardens was once the site of the Nor Loch, a man-made body of water originally constructed as part of the city's defences. As well as deterring invaders, the loch also inhibited population growth on the north side and what we know as the Old Town expanded along the steep ridge on the north shore. As the city became increasingly overcrowded during the middle ages, the Nor Loch gradually turned into a stinking cesspit as sewage and other detritus sought the lowest point. Drainage operations commenced in 1812 and were completed by 1820. No doubt the newly laid gardens benefitted from the fertile soil enriched by organic waste matter over the centuries. The fragrance of flowers would certainly have been preferable to the miasma of old. Historic Edinburgh had the unusual arrangement whereby different social classes occupied shared urban space and sometimes even the same building! Segregation still existed though, with the wealthier folk residing in the middle storeys and the poor making do with cellar and attic accommodation. From the late 1700s onwards, the professional and business classes began to vacate the Old Town for more desirable accommodation to the north of Princes Street. The thoroughfare was created as part of the New Town project which ran from 1767 to around 1850. The wide roads and spacious Georgian houses tempted many residents to leave the cramped tenements and alleyways behind - provided, of course, you could afford to. Edinburgh's unique social mix was therefore altered forever.

Bell's Brae took me down to the water's edge and I could appreciate the architecture of the bridge from below. I was now standing in Dean Village, a former grain milling settlement that boasted 11 working mills driven by the Water of Leith. All cities swallow up outlying areas as they expand outwards but Dean Village has managed to forge an identity as a quiet oasis sitting just below the hustle and bustle of the throbbing streets above and it is now a highly desirable residential area. The Scottish Gallery of Modern Art is situated on the river, within two stunning early 19th century buildings, one a former refuge for fatherless children and the other an orphan hospital. The grounds are expansive and it must be 20 years since I visited. That would be a nice little day trip to write about. Back to tonight's walk, there are a couple of amazing buildings at the foot of Bell's Brae. You can't miss the Old Tolbooth on the cobbled corner just before the original bridge over the Water of Leith. Painted yellow and reaching a height of four storeys, the A-listed building has the year 1675 inscribed on the lintel and is a rectangular-plan construction with crowstepped gables. It was a granary for the Baxters Incorporation of Edinburgh (the bakers trade guild - one of 15 such associations in the city) and the carved symbol of the crossed paddles is easily seen just above eye level. Next door (also shown in the above photo) is Bell's Brae House. Now a bed & breakfast offering a combination of period charm and modern luxury, the property dates from as far back as 1597 and was for many years a miller's house. It was fully restored in 1948 for the Polish painter Aleksander Zyw and incorporated the adjoining Victorian schoolhouse as an artist’s studio. The project was overseen by notable Scottish architect Sir Basil Spence who was knighted for his rebuilding of Coventry Cathedral which had suffered catastrophic bomb damage during the war. Zyw's artistic output in the 1950s saw him become a valued member of the Edinburgh scene. Guests today can make use of the leafy garden overlooking the Water of Leith and there is also a yoga studio available. The property has a grade-B listing and is thus described in the register - A good survival of a 17th century merchant's house, with complementary later additions by Sir Basil Spence. The later alterations are imaginative and were amongst the first undertaken by the architect in the post-war period. I joined the Water of Leith Trail and wandered downstream towards the New Town district of Stockbridge. The official river footpath begins in Balerno and passes through an old railway tunnel and by famous Edinburgh landmarks such as Murrayfield Stadium, the Slateford Aqueduct and - as previously mentioned - the Gallery of Modern Art. Further on, it skirts the Botanic Gardens and Grange Cricket Ground. I came upon the curious structure of St Bernard's Well which features a statue of the Greek Goddess of Health, Hygieia. She is enclosed within a circle of eight tall stone pillars and the elaborate structure dates from 1789.

A natural spring was apparently discovered on this spot in 1760 and "taking the waters" was said at the time to be an effective remedy for healing various maladies. The well takes its name from Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who - according to local legend - had spent time living in a local cave. Beneath the statue is the pump room where the spring emerges. Ostentatiously designed with mosaics, this chamber has been largely closed to the public since 1940. Today, the well is owned by the Edinburgh City Council and maintained by the Dean Village Association, who organise public viewings on a handful of Sundays during the spring and summer. Another one to look out for in the future, perhaps I could catch it on Doors Open Day. I reached the affluent and vibrant area of Stockbridge and climbed the steps to street level in order to have a look around. Many independent shops - including several antique dealers - are located in the vicinity along with a healthy choice of pubs, cafés and restaurants. I wanted to find the original arched entrance gate to Stockbridge Market and cut through a couple of narrow streets to arrive at the grand stone portal, inscribed with the market's name and a list of produce - butcher meat, fruits, fish & poultry. The Category-B listed structure has an overhanging oil lamp and was once the gateway to a large indoor market hall selling all manner of wares. The market ran from 1831 to 1906 before being closed following complaints from the residents about noise and foul smells. The building behind the arch is long gone and a tree-lined footpath stretches out instead. A modern-day monthly farmers market now takes place a few streets away. Stockbridge had a football team in the Scottish League up until the Second World War. St Bernard's FC (named after the well) played at the Royal Gymnasium Ground which today is a public park bearing no resemblance to a sports stadium. Despite existing in the shadow of the city's two main clubs - Hearts and Hibs - the Stockbridge outfit enjoyed a reasonable level of success and in 1938 reached the semi-final of the Scottish Cup, being edged out 2-1 after two drawn games by fellow Second Division side East Fife, each match attracting over 30,000 spectators. The Fifers went on to win the trophy by defeating Kilmarnock after a replay and thus became the first team outside the top league to lift the trophy, a distinction they held for almost 80 years until Hibs emulated the feat in 2016. It was the Hibees first success in the competition since 1902 and I watched the game from the rear of the main stand with my dad - a lifelong fan. Thousands invaded the turf upon the final whistle to celebrate this momentous result. Lightning was given the opportunity to strike twice when Hibs again reached the final in 2021 but this time they lost to St Johnstone, perhaps proving that - like Halley's Comet - it really is a once in a lifetime experience to see the Edinburgh green & white ribbons on the cup.

As for poor St Bernard's, they finished the 38-39 season in a respectable seventh position but never got going again after the war. Football can be a fickle game but this was a cruel hand to be dealt. A change of sport was in the air for the next part of my walk as I encountered the Grange Cricket Ground, peering through a gap in the boundary wall for a glimpse of the hallowed oval. My previous visit had been in 1998 when I took the train across to Edinburgh to see Scotland play Derbyshire in the annual NatWest Trophy, a one-day cricket knockout competition. The Scots had caused an upset in the first round by defeating Worcestershire. Victories against English county sides were rare in these days. I decided to attend the next match against Derbyshire and vaguely recall sitting in Princes Street Gardens reading a preview in the newspaper before heading down to the Grange. By the time I arrived, the match was in its early stages and I could see the giant scoreboard from the street. Scotland were batting first and had already conceded five wickets and had registered just 26 runs. They were taking a pounding and suddenly the £11 admission fee seemed rather hefty. I turned tail and walked back to the town centre. I probably spent the money on a CD and went to the museum instead. That was my one and only run-in (pun fully intended) with the Scottish cricket side. Nowadays they are very much improved and have competed in several international tournaments. You never know, I might go back to the Grange on match day and actually witness the crack of the willow. I was still tracking the Water of Leith and I read an information board about the Stockbridge Colonies - affordable terraced housing erected in the second half of the 19th century to accommodate skilled tradesmen working in the city centre. The properties also attracted professions such as shop-keepers and clerks. I suppose these were the folk who couldn't afford the fancy homes in the New Town and this was the next best thing. Residents had the option of purchasing shares in the building company. The property boom of the 1980s saw an increase in gentrification although there are still long-term tenants on fixed rents and owner-occupiers who have been there for decades. Sounds like it was a bold scheme for its time and you have to wonder how we have ended up with severe housing problems in the 21st century. Surely a country that generates billions of pounds of wealth every year shouldn't have people struggling to find a place to live. Is that too much to ask? You can say what you like about the communist nations of Eastern Europe but at least they fed and housed their citizens. I diverged from the river and passed through the old Rodney Street rail tunnel to emerge at the site of the Royal Gymnasium Ground. Football ghosts must abound here after nightfall. I had thoroughly enjoyed my New Town exploration and I supped a pint of traditional ale in the Cask & Barrel before walking up Broughton Street to the meet-up venue.

Cluny House Gardens & Aberfeldy

On a warm Sunday morning we gunned up the A9 and cut across towards the Perthshire town of Aberfeldy. The A827 follows the course of the River Tay and we made a planned detour across to the other side via a narrow bridge. The small village of Grandtully has a major attraction for those of the sweet tooth disposition - the Highland Chocolatier! Iain Burnett trained under master practitioners of the Belgian, Swiss and French schools and is known for his world-class velvet truffle and range of spiced pralines. The premises include a chocolate counter, gift shop and a lounge-style café. We treated ourselves to a box of truffles and I bought a large-sized Dunoon China cat mug which I use regularly.

We also wanted to have a look at Cluny House Gardens which lay just a few miles distant. They had featured on a TV show and it looked like an interesting place. As we approached, I stopped the car to investigate a creaking noise coming from underneath. The exhaust had come loose and a couple of the steel pegs that attach to the rubber mounts had rusted through. It clearly needed attention and we abandoned our wider plans for the day and drove carefully back down the A9. In Dunfermline we pulled into Kwik Fit but they were booked solidly for days. One of the guys made a brief inspection and the exhaust pipe was now resting on the rear axle. This was now a job that couldn't be put off any longer so we took the car to our local garage in Cairneyhill and arranged a service as well. This also entailed a wait of several days as repair centres across the land were snowed under with work. A combination of staff having to isolate and a backlog of jobs being processed now that the work-at-home restrictions were finally relaxing. New tail pipe installed, we had a second run about a week later and this time drove straight to Cluny House. The chocolate truffles were indeed delectable but best regarded as an occasional treat. Slightly more expensive than Cadbury's! Cluny House has an extensive woodland garden and features some of the rarest plants in Perthshire. The layout was created by Bobby and Betty Masterton who took over the property in the 1950s. A few trees were already present: conifers, beech and oak. More notable were the two giant Wellingtonias that dominate the enclosure today. Although over 150 years old, these natives of North America are still youngsters as the trees can live for a millennium. As Welsh rockers Stereophonics sang on the opening track of their debut album "It only takes one tree to make a thousand matches, but only takes one match to burn a thousand trees". Let's hope these big beauties don't ever catch fire! The regeneration period would be rather lengthy. The Mastertons had a particular interest in Himalayan plants which thrive in Cluny's perfect growing conditions. Many of the seeds they planted are now large trees, such as the Tibetan cherry, notable for its mahogany peeling bark. Perennials that flourish here include lilies (some over 4m high) and Meconopsis (blue poppy). Since 1987 the garden has been cared for by daughter Wendy and her husband John Mattingley. Indeed it was John who met us at the entrance and to whom we gave our £5 admission fees. We spotted a red squirrel feeding by the car park as John outlined the highlights of the garden. Nicole asked if there were toilet facilities for visitors. As Cluny House is a private home, John explained they don't usually allow access to their bathroom but we were welcome to pee behind the woodpile on the fringe of the garden. Now, with an offer like that, you've to hold him to it!

The woodland garden is lovingly maintained and has been deliberately set up to attract a wide variety of wildlife. What's less obvious is just how much of an oasis it actually is. Cluny House and its grounds are hemmed in by a vast shooting estate, not a type of terrain known for its natural diversity. Highland Perthshire has huge tracts of grouse moor and this encourages a monoculture to develop where previously many sorts of flora and fauna would have successfully co-existed. But as soon as man tips the scales in one direction, or - possibly worse - introduces a non-native species, the effects can be disastrous on the wildlife community. Ceaseless persecution of raptors by gamekeepers was for many years a problem on large estates but thankfully the law stepped in to protect our iconic birds of prey. No doubt the rules are sometimes broken but having the legislation in place is the most important step. There's little that can be done about vanished animals such as the wolf. Well, you could attempt to re-introduce them but that immediately throws up fierce opposition by farmers and other landowners seeking to protect their own interests (one thing humans are spectacularly good at). Meanwhile the huge deer population happily munches away at young (artificially planted) trees because there is no natural predator to hound them. Every once in a while, men with guns will cull the herd and new plantations will be seeded in regimented lines. Why not chuck a few thousand American mink into the equation while we're at it? They'll be insignificant compared to the armies of imported grey squirrels marauding through our forests. No wonder the wildcat has retreated to the extreme far north, unable to make sense of it all. Yet experiments in the enormous National Parks on the American continent have shown that restoring the natural balance prompts an adjustment in the ecosystem towards the way things were before we meddled. I suppose you could point the finger at Cluny House and ask why they have allowed alien vegetation to grow. But it is a small enclosed patch in the grand scheme of things and - besides - not every non-native lifeform is a threat. A properly managed boutique garden is a world away from allowing intrusive plants such as Japanese knotweed to spread like wildfire until they are beyond control.

There was a marked path to follow around the garden and it involved steep climbs in places. Information sheets helped us to identify the more exotic plants and we certainly gained some new horticultural knowledge. A lovely place to visit if you're in the area and I'm more than happy to spend a few pounds to help maintain a project like this. We then headed for Aberfeldy to visit one of our favourite independent bookstores and have a wander around the town. We found a fortunate parking spot on the High Street just outside a butcher offering a wide selection of home-made pies. Needless to say I was dragged inside kicking and screaming. Suitably filled, it was just a short walk around the corner to the Watermill bookshop and café. We had been here once before and I'd always vowed to return after the pandemic eased. Just the sort of business that we don't want to lose. As we entered, a Korean TV crew were busy filming the shop interior. Obviously word had got around of our impending arrival! More seriously, it's fantastic that the Watermill attracts interest from far and wide. Every single bit of exposure helps. There is an excellent range of literature across the two large rooms, covering fiction and factual spheres. I purchased a history of a Perthshire glen near Killin that looked at the changes in Scottish society over the centuries through the eyes of the residents. I enjoyed the book and passed it on to my mum - which is one advantage a paper copy has over an electronic version tied to your own device. I also sourced a stack of local postcards for future post-crossing activities. We then headed downstairs for cake and coffee in the relaxing surroundings of the café. We just missed out on the last outdoor table but I was happy enough on the comfortable chairs in the corner of the room. It's easy to wax lyrical about the experience of visiting a traditional bookseller but, remember, these places shall only continue to exist if people patronise them. Make a point of visiting, go inside if you're passing by chance. Above all, buy something. That £8.99 paperback probably won't put a dent in your finances. The price of two or three drinks to you is the lifeblood of a local business. All it takes is for a modestly-sized group of people to share the same mindset and you have a thriving community service. Sit down afterwards and inspect your purchases over a beverage. It all helps and you most certainly know it makes sense. Lecture over!

Aberfeldy has a lot to offer the visitor. It would definitely make a nice destination for a short break and I would love to visit the community cinema one day. The Scottish Crannog Centre is just a few miles along the road on the shores of Loch Tay. This is a place we've been to several times over the years and I will forever treasure the memory of actually making fire from two pieces of wood. Sadly a serious blaze destroyed the reconstruction of the crannog (an Iron-age thatched wooden dwelling built upon water) but - thankfully - fundraising activities are well underway and hopefully a new facility will rise literally from the ashes. On a previous trip to Aberfeldy we drove out to see the Fortingall Yew - one of the oldest trees in Britain. Reckoned to be around 2000 years old, it stands in the centre of the tiny village and there is a real-ale pub just a short walk away. Let's hope it survived Covid (the boozer I mean. It would take more than a pesky virus to damage the arboreal legend). There is also the historic General Wade's Bridge over the Tay bringing you into Aberfeldy - built in the aftermath of the 1715 Jacobite uprising and part of a scheme to stymie any future Highland rebellions. Ironically the new network of roads paved the way (again, literally) for Bonnie Prince Charlie to gather support around the country when he launched his own campaign further down the line. We had intended to drive up an down a glen on the way home but the rain clouds were darkening the sky and we high-tailed it back to Fife, stopping at the bottom of Perthshire to catch sight of an osprey flying across Castlehill Reservoir near Muckhart.