Home is where the heart is...
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.
