A sea shrouded in mist. My train to Fife, passing over the mighty Forth Bridge, flies through the clouds.
Alighting at Aberdour, someone is keen to guide me down to the shore.
A heron stands motionless outside a lonely hotel on Forth View. Crossing the headland, Silversands Bay lies hidden in the haar.
The Fife Coastal Path follows the railway, crossing beneath the track through a stone tunnel, dripping with water. There’s water everywhere. Seals rest on the shore. One, perched high on a rock, lifts its head to watch a train as it hurtles past. How did it get up there?
At Burntisland, two men clear sand from the promenade.
“Cold morning for walking. Where are you from?”
In Scotland, I always say I was born in Newcastle but now live down South, which often makes a quick connection.
“Kevin Keegan. What a great guy. My son went to one of his football academies in Glasgow. Keegan signed his t-shirt and played Keepy Uppy with him — 50 headers!”
Those innocent days before concerns over brain damage.
Drizzle. Grey. Roads through Kinghorn and down to the beach at Kirkcaldy.
The trail comes to life on leaving the town. Ravenscraig Castle (built circa 1460) is closed due to repairs and conservation works on the bridge.
A tunnel carved through the rock leads to the pretty cobbled wharves of Dysart Harbour.
A group of poles rises above the seafront. From a distance, it looks like they’re the remnants of an old building but they gradually gain colour and definition to reveal themselves as a sculpture by contemporary Scottish artist Donald Urquhart — Sea Beams — consisting of nine painted beams of wood, the colours derived from photographs of the Firth of Forth taken under different light conditions.
A gap in a spiked metal perimeter fence allows me to get closer to the winding gear over the Frances Colliery, sunk in 1873 and closed in 1987 after the miners’ strike. Ghosts of old industries haunt the coastline — mining, steelworks, shipping and fishing.
At Blair Point, a Closed sign warns of maintenance work ahead, requiring a long detour. Ignoring the sign, all is quiet apart from a few construction vehicles at the far end working on an access road rather than the path.
Alice’s Fairy Garden nestles beneath the trees on the approach to West Wemyss. I don’t ring the bell — there’s bound to be strings attached, buried in the small print.
The village itself is very pretty, with pastel-walled, red-roofed houses. It reminds me of a saner version of Portmeirion.
Beautiful sandstone rock flows down to the sea.
The sea fret still clings to the trees.
The planned highlight of the day, exploring the Wemyss caves and Pictish carvings, around 1500 years old, falls a little flat on finding the main cave entrances to be gated and locked. Only Doo Cave is open — a medieval dovecote.
It’s turning dark for the final stretch of main roads through Buckhaven, Methil and into Leven.
There’s a lovely welcome from Carol and her husband at the Lomond Guest House, together with a free room upgrade — luxury!
Walk distance: 22 miles.
Total distance: 3,883 miles.
We’ve walked Dysart to East Wemyss (and back) once but mainly concentrate on the East Neuk sections of the Fife Coastal Path. I do like the Sea Beams sculpture.
It’s a beautiful coast path, especially once you pass Leven. Northumberland, Berwickshire, and Fife – all gorgeous. I walked all round the Sea Beams sculpture, enjoying the changing patterns.