Fife, Scotland

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Exploring Fife, Scotland

It is all too easy to take for granted a childhood in the East Coast of Scotland’s Kingdom of Fife, with its endless miles of windswept beaches and somewhat bohemian approach to life by the sea. But, I know I am so blessed to call our secluded spot above the East Neuk’s romantic little fishing villages my childhood home. This is a place, where the simple life prevails and as I will illustrate, it’s not hard to fall in love with it all. In the last few years I have been feeling increasingly remorseful about invariably seeking adventure overseas in favour of the humble wonders on my doorstep. 

So, I’ve begun the lengthy four months of summer by returning to my roots and taking a few days to really explore the hidden magic of Fife. Although I must admit that this newfound nostalgia for my Scottish upbringing, has also been triggered by the betrayal of stumbling upon a deeply uninspiring article on the ‘cultural delights’ of Fife in a renowned glossy travel magazine. 

Horrified by this monotonous sweep through its most mundane activities, I thought I ought to present my side of the story from a local’s perspective. If you only have a few days to spare, then perhaps my last few days of reflection and exploration of Fife’s loveliest spots will give you a few ideas (these are all my own photographs from Fife)

My brother and I began the week by venturing to Tentsmuir beach for a quaint little afternoon picnic. The beach is a short, but beautiful drive from St Andrews and stretches for more than five miles from the mouth of the River Tay to the Eden Estuary. Don’t be deterred from visiting if you open your curtains to little unwelcomed precipitation, because I can assure you that the merging of cobalt sea and sky is equally as captivating in gale-force winds as it is on an idyllic summer’s afternoon. When you emerge barefoot from the shadows of the forest you will see why it is not only the preferred spot for basking seals, but is also a heavenly place to nestle in the dunes and watch the waves. 

Once there you’re rather far from civilization, so don’t forget to bring provisions from one of St Andrew’s endless selection of cafés. Given the choice I would walk straight past the dreaded Subway in favour of a superfood salad from Bibi’s café on North Street and a ‘London Fog’ (blend of tea, spices and foaming milk) from Beanscene to fight off the chill. 

If you stay past sunset, then head to The Vic (renamed the Social Club) for a comfortingly cliché cocktail in a jar. Mitchell’s restaurant, which is just a little further down Market Street, also has live folk music towards the end of the week and there’s even a ceilidh to be had at neighbouring Forgan’s if you’re lucky.

Drenched in sunshine, a fellow flower-child and I took the opportunity to drive out to the bohemian haunt Pillars of Hercules in Falkland for a modest carrot and ginger juice amongst the most alluring array of indulgences from macadamia nut and dark chocolate spread to vegan red velvet cake and coconut tea. Not only did the charming farm shop spellbind us, but they also have beautiful orchards overwhelmed with cherry blossom and overflowing vegetable patches in surrounding plots.

 It is simply dreamy, especially the walk through the forest where you pass frightening pagan masks on the red squirrel trail, before eventually coming to a winding wall inscribed with mysterious Scottish phrases to ponder. As we passed a single Hawthorn tree, my companion taught me that seeing one standing alone actually signifies the entrance to a forgotten fairy world. I was in heaven.

The next morning, the weather was not to our favour, but nevertheless, the rocky terrain of a rather stormy Kingsbarns beach was to be our landscape of choice. As always we underestimated the beach’s untainted beauty until we tumbled down the pathway to be met with a sort of ethereal haze lingering above the cerulean swell. 

A stone’s throw from St Andrews, Kingsbarns beach is the perfect place to burn off an indulgent brunch at one of the town’s best beloved student burrow’s like the North Street’s North Point café where – so says the sign - ‘Kate met Wills’. It serves the dreamiest Oreo hot chocolates, naughty pancakes and blackberry crumbles you’ll find anywhere in the Kingdom. However, the queue can be rather tedious, so if you’re feeling restless, nip round the corner to Jannetta’s ice cream bar, which not only serves the infamous, ruinous Irn Bru sorbet of my youth, but the most blissfully chocolatey ice cream sundaes. Mischievous I know, but surely the basic ingredients of honey, milk and cocoa qualify as breakfast staples?

Everyone will tell you to round off a day in Fife by heading to Anstruther’s world-renowned fish and chip shop, but truth be told I think its somewhat over-rated and would instead direct you to Elie’s Ship Inn, where they not only serve exquisitely sloppy, salt & vinegar-drenched chips, but also delectable fiery Bloody Marys to sip on their terrace. 

The wonderfully chaotic array of picnic tables offers the most gorgeous panoramic views across the harbour at sunset (without the extortionate price tag of some of the nearby seafood restaurants). The pub also runs the summer cricket matches as well as our cherished New Year’s day BBQ, which is a crucial way of remedying the trauma of the traditional early morning dip in the Forth (and relieving the infamous Hogmanay hangover). 

Finally, beyond the allure of St Andrew’s notorious Lizard Lounge, the only way to approach midnight on a summer evening in Fife is to build a habitually hazardous bonfire and decant the whisky.