Our hotel in St Andrews is close to the university. Sleeping in front of an open window, Duncan enjoyed the bass booming out from a formal garden party until 2 am. I slept like a log — I sleep through anything, although the malt whiskies may have helped.
The bus drops us off at Pittenweem, grey skies and damp streets, for the 13-mile walk to Kingsbarns.
Anstruther Harbour offers a shortcut, which is safely navigated.
The approach to Crail, mainly short-cropped grassland, is interrupted by the dramatic sandstone rocks and shallow caves at The Coves.
Fife Ness and the coastline beyond are dominated by links golf courses, the path switching between the edge of the fairways and the rocky shore.
I’m concerned that Duncan has chosen a rather dull first day to join me, but a keen golfer, he’s happy to admire the courses and improve my bird identification skills. I’m glad for his company, especially as a light rain begins to fall.
To our disappointment, the recommended Cheese Toastie Shack at Kingsbarns is closed, although the car park is full of camper vans. We head inland for a bus back to St Andrews.
Last night’s excesses have caught up with me and I wimp out of a repeat, retiring to bed at 9 pm to watch the excellent Get Out, although I’m not sure it will help Duncan sleep again. I have a sore throat. Feels like I’ve not been able to shake off this minor cold since Christmas.
Next day
We are joined by my eldest son, Cal. It’s a glorious Sunday morning, wild swimmers running across the beautiful Kingsbarns beach into the icy sea, while others dash back up the sand to the slightly more appealing Wild Scottish Sauna wood cabin. It’s rare to have two hiking companions, so I make the most of the photo opportunities.
The first part of the day is a nine-mile walk to St Andrews.
The path leads away from the sea at Boarhills along the green banks of Kenly Water, carpeted with snowdrops.
What’s this — an old mill building?
I’m easily excited these days, stepping inside despite the warning signs, to take a closer look at the tall tree growing inside the walls. How old must it be?
A young woman is also exploring the building and leads me to a wall containing a central stone inscribed with the date of construction – 1716.
It’s a magical place, nature reclaiming the building, bathed in wonderful light. Cal captures my mood perfectly.
Making our way back to the shoreline, this bizarre 17th-century doocot was recently restored by a local community group.
The incredible sandstone Buddo Rock is another highlight of the walk. I could look at it for hours.
Steps in a fissure lead up to the top, although a scramble is needed at the end. It reminds me of Picnic at Hanging Rock, although I don’t mention this to Cal, who continues to the top, instead making some excuse about my backpack being too wide for the narrowing gap.
The young lady I spoke to earlier arrives and throws her pack down against the rock. Chatting, she has the most lovely lilting Fife accent, in addition to being extremely pretty. I motion to Duncan for the two of us to walk on, leaving Cal to climb back down and chat to her.
My matchmaking efforts are foiled as Cal strides up the hill to join us, grinning and rolling his eyes at my all-to-obvious attempt to set him up. Oh well. What else is a father supposed to do?
It’s not long until we reach the equally impressive Rock and Spindle stack. I have to admit my first impression was of something else.
The walk ends with wonderful views of St Andrews. What a superb section of the Fife Coastal Path — my favourite so far.
Entering the town, we pass through the cathedral, fenced off as usual for restoration work.
Duncan stays to explore St Andrews, or perhaps the golf course, while Cal and I walk another six miles to Leuchars, working along the links course, shore, fields and embankment as long as possible, rather than following the official path running alongside the busy A91.
A great day with fine companions.
Walk distance: 28 miles.
Total distance: 3,925 miles.
A great piece of coastline. That shell house is just round the corner from one of John’s cousins.
That sounds like a very handy cousin!