Leven and Largo outing

Another welcome break in the seemingly endless wet and stormy weather. It was a bright if blustery Saturday and we fancied a trip to the coast. We drove to Leven as we knew the beach was a good area for birdspotting. Opinions vary about where the Firth of Forth ends and the North Sea begins. I'm firmly of the opinion you're probably in sea territory at Kirkcaldy and most certainly by the time you reach Leven. My sister vehemently disputes this. Coincidentally she owns an opticians business on Leven High Street and I've always managed to "pass" when I go there for an eye test. I'll be 50 when the next one is due. How long can I keep the specs at bay? I've already decided I'll have no problem wearing glasses if required as I flinch at the thought of sticking pieces of plastic to my eyeballs. Linda has done very well for herself as an optician. Good on you sis!

Leven promenade is a well known area for viewing seabirds but you are almost always greeted by the starlings. I adore the sheen on these little fellows and their exquisite markings. Look at the intricacy of the patterns! Common birds are often overlooked in terms of visual appeal. A prime example is the mallard. You see it on every pond but the male's colour scheme is breathtaking. Starlings traditionally flock in large groups and to witness a murmuration is truly spectacular experience. Worryingly, their numbers have been steadily declining since the 1980s and their very status as an everyday bird appears threatened. Another Leven ever-present down on the shore is the sanderling. These rascals scurry along the sand at great speed and are a devil to photograph. They pause and you zoom in for a shot. Just as you're composing the frame....they're off again! However, the scattergun approach often bears fruit and you'll find a couple of usable pics featuring an entire bird. Godwits are also regular visitors and can often be found splashing about in the waves, usually on their own. Birds in their natural habitat often appear as happy as Larry and this is a joy to behold.

On other occasions we have observed plover and turnstone on the beach but they were nowhere to be seen today. Nothing is guaranteed. One unexpected discovery was a large raft of goldeneye bobbing up and down on the River Leven as it entered the sea. We usually spot these distinctive ducks on freshwater lochs. The wind had a cold bite and it was time to get back in the car and move on.

We journeyed along to the next coastal village, Lower Largo. Eastwards from Leven, the Fife shoreline becomes known as the East Neuk and a series of charming fishing villages await the visitor. Only Pittenweem has an active fleet of boats nowadays although smaller scale landings of crab and lobster occur in other places. Pleasure craft have filled the vacuum and a tour of the ancient harbours is a rewarding experience. Anstruther is the biggest settlement and can be classed as a town. There are many places to eat and drink here, including the word-famous Anstruther Fish Bar, where royalty and Hollywood icons have dined. A railway line connecting all these locations would probably prove a hit today but unfortunately the Fife Coastal route fell victim to the Beeching axe in 1967. A proposal to restore the stub to Leven has been approved by the government and this would at least provide a railhead for the East Neuk.

The skyline of Lower Largo is dominated by the three-arched viaduct which carried trains high above the village to the elevated station. The trackbed east of the viaduct can be walked and eventually becomes part of the Fife Coastal Path. Immediately west of the bridge stands a new-build house, one of countless obstacles that stand in the way of this line ever re-opening. Large stretches of embankment and cutting remain and the land lost to agriculture could no doubt be fairly easily reclaimed, but when roads and residential areas are built over old lines it becomes a whole new ball game in terms of restoration. I have been on top of the old viaduct, rather naughtily scaling the tall gate at its eastern end. I'm sure I'm not the first to have attempted this stunt. Back at ground level, the Railway Tavern is one of the best real-ale pubs in Fife and has won numerous awards. As the name would suggest, there are photographs of the old line adorning the walls as well as assorted memorabilia. Linda's ex-boss (from whom she bought the shop) lives here in Lower Largo and has a large house abutting the abandoned trackbed. Reason enough to buy a property? Yeah, why not! I must admit I was heavily swayed by the sound of a passing freight train when Nicole and I viewed the semi in which we currently reside.

We passed the quirky monument to Robinson Crusoe, or Alexander Selkirk as he was known in real life. Selkirk was born here in 1676 and spent four years as a castaway in the South Pacific while serving as an officer in the Royal Navy. He was eventually rescued and his experiences of prolonged solitude helped inspire Daniel Defoe's famous work. We parked close to the sea at the far end of the village. Largo Law - a conical hill of volcanic origin - towered a mile distant and this peak prompted my current interest in hillwalking. I'd done the odd climb here and there since my teenage years but around 10-12 years ago I got involved with a small hiking group at my old place of work. Largo Law was my debut expedition on a fine day and I found it a slog due to the sharp gradient. Once at the "top" you quickly realise you're not standing on the true summit but have to dip into a valley and come up again to reach the cairn. Our little club went on quite a few wanders over a lengthy period of time until people drifted away into other jobs and the nucleus was gone. We would take turns in planning an outing and it was interesting to observe the dynamics. There were people who said time and time again they would attend, yet never did. A text would sneak through on the day explaining that they couldn't make it. So why all the interest in the first place? Others frequently cancelled at short notice but at least came along some of the time. Within the group of regular walkers, there those calling for ever tougher assignments and others just happy to go with the flow. It can be a thankless task organising these events. I spent years chasing up people to try and persuade or remind them to take part in the staff 5-a-side football. If nobody takes on this role, the whole thing collapses. At my new school, someone else does all the emailing and phoning and I can simply turn up at the sports hall.

The last time we came to this car park we observed gannets diving into the sea from great heights. There wasn't a great deal happening around the beach today and we proceeded on to the old railway to pick up a section of the coastal path. There were many people on the trail as this was the first nice weekend afternoon in a while. I clocked a crumbling ruin ahead (which turned out to be the remains of a house associated with salt panning) when suddenly Nicole pointed out a hovering bird. My initial thought was kestrel, but it was too large and we agreed it was most likely a buzzard. Out came the cameras and I zoomed in for confirmation of ID but the dull lighting rendered the bird in shadowy form. A buzzard, yes, but seemingly no chance of a detailed picture. Then a gap appeared in the clouds, allowing a ray of sunshine through. The buzzard was illuminated in the sky as it hovered for several minutes, scanning the terrain below. A perfect photo opportunity. It did descend to the ground at one point and I also snapped it sitting in the grass. Then it was up again although the light had dimmed by then. I had never seen a buzzard floating in the sky like this before. Obviously the strong sea headwind took the strain. I normally see these birds sitting on fenceposts or on the roofs of barns and cottages as I drive around rural areas. I was more more than happy with my day's camera work and again the wind began to chill so it was time to get moving again. I had long meant to check out the ruined Largo House and since I was in the area and there was still plenty daylight left, then what better time? The old mansion is in the adjoining village of Upper Largo which sits a little further back from the coast.

The house has been roofless and unoccupied since 1951. I had already pinpointed its location online and knew I could park in a residential area and make a short hop into a field. I had also read the property is almost totally engulfed in vegetation therefore I wasn't expecting to do much more than view a crumbling stone shell from a distance. I found my way there easily enough, clambering over a metal gate and walking 50 yards across pasture land to the site of the house. It was ringed with a low barbed wire fence and indeed surrounded by trees although the lack of foliage meant the stonework was easy to spot. I vaulted the small obstacle and made my way towards the main entrance. The flight of steps to the front door were easily accessible and the year 1750 clearly carved on the lintel. An elaborate crest was displayed at the top of the building but it wasn't possible to get a meaningful shot of this due to thick branches being in the way. I love the intricate carvings you often find on these old houses. A total contrast to the way modern dwellings are thrown together. I could see the hole where the bell used to be and peered through the doorway. A sheer drop of around 12 feet to the ground cushioned only by thick briars. I guessed I would be seeking another way in! At this point my camera died. All that zooming in and out to capture birds had drained the battery. No matter, I had already taken a few nice shots and my phone functions decently at close quarters. I made my way round the side of the house, passing an interesting plaque on the way. I learned the 1st Polish Parachute Brigade had been based here during the war and were sent on a mission to Holland in 1944. Few of the soldiers chose to return to their homeland following the cessation of hostilities as their country was now under Soviet control. One of the reasons why Polish surnames were not unknown in Scotland when I was a boy - long before the 21st century wave of immigration from eastern Europe.

I was able to enter the confines of the mansion via the conservatory and explore the ruins from within. All floorboards and plasterwork had gone and the upper levels weren't accessible but I could see the outlines of staircases in several places. Curiously, I found a couple of pipes sticking out of a wall. You very rarely find absolutely no traces of modernisation. I poked around the ground floor and passed through all the old doorways. I then made my way out to the rear of the property and had a look at the lovely exterior. The field surrounding the house once formed the estate grounds and I later read online the tenant farmer doesn't take too kindly to visitors (apparently he has been known to brandish a shotgun!). All was quiet today however and I didn't hear anyone holler "get off my land". I would simply have stood my ground, although it's easy to say that when you don't have the business end of a blunderbuss pointed squarely at your bahookie! The original access road has now disappeared under the cow field but the entrance gates (topped with a polish eagle) still stand on the opening to the main road, as does the old gatehouse. This is now a private residence and the occupants appear to have sole access privileges. Like many country estates, chunks of Largo were probably sold off after the grand house fell out of use around 1940. The military occupation gave it a stay of execution but come the post-war period the old ways had gone forever. An enormous number of elegant country mansions met a grim fate, unbelievable as it may seem now. Over the decades, there have been several rumours of Largo House being redeveloped but it always amounted to nothing. Most probably the prospective owners were scared off by the true renovation costs rather than the initial estimate. It's also easy to glibly talk about restoring ruined estates but another matter entirely to place the cash on the table.

I uploaded my pics to an urban exploration group on Facebook. Featuring mainly Scottish locations, the etiquette is not to identify the site by name. Those requiring further details are requested to contact the person who created the post via private message. I believe these measures are to ensure information is only shared among genuine group members. Unfortunately there are those in society who would visit a deserted building purely with the intention of causing damage. I described my explore along the lines of "happened to be passing a ruined mansion in Fife"

A couple of people said they'd been to the house and one woman said she lived in the Kingdom but didn't recognise the place. She went on to state she found exploring awkward at times as she doesn't drive. I happened to note she was based in Leven and sent her a message divulging the location of the property, knowing it was just along the road from her. She thanked me and said she would check the place out during the coming week. I'm glad I helped the local urbex community in a small way and put something back in.

Commercial Open (again)

A major disappointment of 2019 was the closure of the Commercial Inn. Located in the heart of Dunfermline, it was my regular real-ale haunt. The pub had up to eight cask pumps and a varied range of beers to sample. Fortunately the phoenix rose from the ashes when former barman Andy Black bought the business and re-opened in the run-up to Christmas. The place was busy again and things were looking rosy. Then came an enforced shutdown of a few weeks when Andy decided to give the bar a makeover. Now it's back in business and I decided to drop in to see what all the fuss was about.

I had read the main purpose of the refurbishment was to bring the toilets up to scratch while the bar area would basically be given a fresh lick of paint and upgraded cosmetically. I purchased a pint of pale ale for £3.50 and settled down to enjoy it. The pub interior certainly looked a lot brighter and the place had generally been spruced up. I noticed the number of cask pumps had been reduced to six but there was still an excellent choice of ale. There were a few punters drinking and it's good to see the Commercial up and running again. My next visit a few days later was the graveyard shift of a Monday evening. Only one other person was present. This time I sampled the 80 shilling from Stewart Brewing, near Edinburgh. The pint was in great condition, although it cost £3.80. Andy has obviously hiked the prices but the pub business is a tough old game and a friendly welcoming atmosphere coupled with regular faces behind the bar who are knowledgeable about the wares they are dispensing is what many people consider important. Going purely by prices, you can drink for two quid a pop just round the corner in Wetherspoons although some find these large barns impersonal. I do sometimes enjoy the anonymity they can offer though. You pays your money and you takes your choice.

I checked out the bogs this time and was impressed by the renovation. Sparkling new tiles and flooring. The basins and urinals had been replaced and the facilities are now of an excellent standard. I must make the effort to support the Commercial on a regular basis and Nicole has been talking about getting a team together for the quiz night. There is a decent real-ale scene in the town. Just along from 'Spoons is the East Port Bar. Well known for screening sport, it also has two or three handpulls in action. Unfortunately the Canmore (near the Alhambra Theatre) is currently closed. I reckon my first visit to the Commercial was in 1994 (a quarter of a century ago!) and I had no idea what real ale was at that time. I probably ordered a pint of McEwan's 70 (which is still on the bar!) A few years later I was there again on a works night out and one of the guys kept raving about Deuchars IPA. My recollection - like this beer - is hazy but I definitely tried a pint, thereby sparking an awareness of cask. I certainly dropped in a few times after work in the late 90s to sample the produce. I therefore conclude it was - for better or worse - the Commercial Inn that launched me on a voyage of ale discovery.

River Carron Trail

The longest river in Stirlingshire is the Carron which rises in the Campsie Fells and enters the Firth of Forth at Grangemouth. As it passes through the Falkirk area, a waymarked trail can be followed. I had tried to sign up for an organised walk here about a year ago but all places were taken. It had lingered on my to-do list since then as a local jaunt I could undertake, given a few spare hours. The opportunity presented itself on a bright Sunday in late February when Nicole was otherwise engaged. I set of just before lunch time, knowing I could complete my mission before the light dimmed.

I parked at the site of the old Carron Ironworks. The foundry became a key player in the British industrial revolution. Established in 1759, the Carron Company hit serious paydirt in the early 1800s, casting short-range naval cannons which were used by British forces and proved highly effective at close quarters. These guns were known as carronades. By 1814, Carron was the largest ironworks in Europe and remained a household name into the next century, producing iconic red phone and pillar boxes. You can often see the inscription "Carron Company - Stirlingshire" when posting a letter today. The firm eventually folded in 1982 and was partly acquired by new owners Carron Phoenix. This operation ceased a few years ago leaving the famous Falkirk foundry site derelict. The clock tower at the entrance still stands (with carronades on display) and a short walk around the perimeter reveals another fascinating monument to the industrial past. After passing a redundant rail bridge over the River Carron, the grand Grahamston Gates come into view. Weighing 20 tons and measuring 26 by 20 feet, they were said to be the biggest iron gates in the world, designed and cast at Falkirk's Grahamston Foundry. They were exhibited at the 1886 International Exhibition of Industry, Science and Art in Edinburgh. Returning home, the gates stood outside the Grahamston plant until its closure at the turn of the 21st century. Fortunately Carron Phoenix had the foresight to restore the structure and transplant it to their premises where it proudly stands today as a reminder of the local iron industry.

Before starting the river trail, I wanted to visit Carron Dams nature reserve. Tucked away between industrial and residential areas, this quiet haven is owned by the Scottish Wildlife Trust and occupies the site of a partially-drained reservoir which served the ironworks. A circular trail has been created with three joining points. The sun was falling on the pond as I took this picture. A nice enough view I thought. I didn't really expect it to soar past 500 likes on Instagram! I could hear birdsong and saw magpies and great tits. Nothing special, but a pleasant walk and not too muddy considering there had been heavy rainfall for days beforehand. I had worn my walking shoes rather than pulling on the heavy duty boots as I reckoned I would be sticking mainly to decent paths. I got away with that one, but it was close at times. I jumped off the trail three quarters of the way round and walked down to the river. Nearby is the Carronbridge Inn, once visited by Robert Burns. The bard dropped in for breakfast in 1787 and inscribed a few lines of verse on a window. Unfortunately the pane was later blown to smithereens during a wild storm. I picked up the trail and initially found myself on a tarred cycle route. I was brought to an abrupt halt when confronted with a newly-formed lake. Obviously the sustained downpour had been severe. I picked my way through the trees to the actual river path. At least I'm on the right trail now, I thought. Until this walkway gave way to the scene pictured below.

Back across to the cycle route then! The two paths converge in any case and skirt a housing scheme before entering woodland. I had to ford the pavement as there was so much water spilling off the adjacent field. Everything was well signposted and I headed for The Kelpies - iconic steel sculptures of the Celtic water spirits. They take the form of a horse and the structures have proved immensely popular since being introduced to the public. People come from far and wide to view them and enjoy the wider leisure facilities of Helix Park. The Kelpies stand at the point where the Forth & Clyde Canal meets the Carron en route to the nearby Firth of Forth. The watercourse was opened in 1790 and now carries recreational traffic. The entire 35-mile route can be walked or cycled and The Kelpies provide a focal point, as does the Falkirk Wheel which straddles the intersection with the Edinburgh-bound Union Canal. I had noticed on Google Maps that a couple of additional art installations would feature on today's route. The Human Sun Clock is an elaborate sundial that tells the time by shadow when someone stands on the place marker. Further along was a modern sculpture entitled Love & Kisses.

Over to creator Jephson Robb: "The sculpture has been designed as a scar. In other words, a healed wound. But when viewed from certain vantage points it takes the form of a heart and when examined from above, it resembles a pair of lips. The shapes contained within the sculpture have therefore informed the title of the piece, Love and Kisses". I can see where he's coming from but couldn't help thinking the artwork resembled a large squashed turnip. People on my Facebook wall did indeed confirm the heart, lips and tongue theories. It obviously means various things to different folk. On the final push, one of the horses' heads hove into view and the marina landscape opened up in front of me. The old sea lock at the River Carron is now permanently closed and boats can continue under the M9 along a new stretch of waterway known as the Queen Elizabeth Canal, which merges with the river mouth half a mile further downstream. The extension was built to allow boats an easier passage to the Forth by cutting out the troublesome bridge carrying the A905 over the canal. The new stretch also provides an informative walk named the Charlotte Dundas Heritage Trail. William Symington launched the first craft here that demonstrated the practicality of steam power for ships.

I had been to the Kelpies many times before. It is a favourite place for us to take guests, particularly in the evening when the traffic has died down. It doesn't cost anything to view the steel horses and everyone so far has been impressed with the sheer scale of the sculptures. There is a café and visitors centre open during the day and I decided to push on a little further to check out Helix Park. This includes a performance area on which large-scale events can be held and facilities for water sports provided by a large lagoon. All surrounded by play areas and high quality pathways. There were a few ducks in attendance but nothing to write home about. The purpose-built Falkirk football stadium is a short distance away and home to both Falkirk FC and East Stirlingshire. I still haven't attended a game there although I saw East Stirling many times at their old ground in Falkirk town centre - now sadly an overgrown ruin. Falkirk FC also moved from a traditional urban terraced arena, known as Brockville. I almost went to see the Scottish Women's side at the new stadium but changed my mind. I lived to regret that decision as it was the night the ladies qualified for the World Cup. Helix park seemed more suited to families and I returned to the Kelpies. The exhibition inside the visitor centre was in the process of being updated and I began the walk back to the car.

There was finally some decent birdie action on the return trek. A male and female goosander were swimming together in the Carron. I witnessed the amusing spectacle of a second male repeatedly being chased away every time he approached the pair. The light happened to fall upon the ducks as I took some nice photos. The female garnered the most attention on Instagram, probably on account of her punky hairdo. It was good to blow a few cobwebs away after an enforced spell indoors due to the inclement weather. As expected, there were many others out doing the same thing. I couldn't live without my regular excursions on foot and it's a healthy way to appreciate what's on your doorstep and further afield. You always learn something new.