St Andrews

Hello from St. Andrews, Scotland.
Mike and I made St.Andrews this afternoon after 3 full days of walking the Fife Coastal Path. This well signed 187 km trail follows the north shore of the Firth of Forth estuary along the coast of Fife and then turns north past St. Andrews. For our Scotland walking adventure we briefly considered the more well-known West Highland Way but the distances between stops and elevation were more than I wanted to tackle and the weather was guaranteed to be wetter. So the Fife coast it was.
Fife is a beautiful part of the country with fairly flat lands, and a beautiful coastline with deep bays, long sandy beaches and pretty fishing villages. Not surprisingly it is a big holiday resort area. In total we walked about 60 kms of the trail over 3 days taking our host’s advice to start in the town of Leven. The scenery was varied and so was the weather ( as one would expect in Scotland). For the most part it was dry - and at times even warm and sunny. On our second day of walking, we had rain for a few hours which had not been in the forecast and I wondered, just for a moment, whether I should have packed my hiking pants rather than those extra shoes and scarves! Och weel (of well) we managed.
The places we passed hold some interesting history. Caves with crosses etched by early Christian pilgrims; a statue of the seafarer Alexander Selkirk after whom Defoe’s fictional character Robinson Crusoe was based. ( seems he was from this area and was castaway for 4 years on an island off of Chile). We passed many cement bunkers from WWII and a memorial to the SS Avondale a Canadian cargo ship sunk off the Fife coast. The Avondale was sunk at 2300 on 7 May, 1945 just 1 hour before Germany surrendered. Imagine losing a loved one an hour before the end of the war. Along the way, we skirted a number of golf courses. The path literally follows the edge of the fairways so as walkers we had to stop often as players made their shots. The golf courses are well-tended and look deceptively wide open. One fellow close to us made a chip onto the green from a very tricky lie. In passing I said “ well played”. He answered “ Aye, but I put the last three shots in the sea”. The wind is always in play. I noticed most people were playing with caddies. I didn’t see any power carts. The caddies were busy pointing out recommended shots and even coaching people on where to send their putts. Now that would be super helpful to my game.
We met many interesting people along the way. Everyone was very chatty and friendly and keen to know where we were from. Given the extensive Scottish diaspora, everyone seemed to have a relation in Canada or Australia. According to our census, 14% of Canadians are of Scottish decent. Perhaps that explains our love of french fries or chips.
On day 1 we followed part of the trail along one of the decommissioned railway lines. Mike and I have been keenly watching a show called Britain’s Lost Railways. In the 60s , a man called Beeching was charged with rationalizing the many railway lines and about a third of Britain’s lines were shut down. Many are now walking trails through interesting parts.
While walking we made regular stops for bacon butties, scones and tea to keep up our strength. The bacon in these parts is very meaty and not “ peely-wally” - a Scottish term meaning pale, or looking unwell. We also stopped in Anstruther at the famous “ Wee Chippy” for some fish and chips.
For two nights we stayed in a Elie holiday flat of another second cousin, Eric. He insisted when he heard we were passing through and on Sunday night he and his wife, Diane, along with two other Edinburgh cousins came to have dinner and drinks with us. ( more of the Baillie clan) It was a great reunion. I came armed with lots of information that my father had written about our shared great-grandparents. Evidently, our Great -Grandmother, Alexandrina Huston was a real firecracker who birthed 18 children, 13 who lived to adulthood. She was a true family matriarch who was also a favorite at the Edinburgh University Hospital as she was the first person to be successfully treated for myxoedema ( hypothyroidism). She made the medical textbooks and was often marched in front of medical students. On the other hand my great- grandfather George died very young and was evidently an alcoholic who contributed little in life except his 13 children. My Dad figured anyone with 13 bairn was likely to turn to drink.

………" I followed my heart and it led me to whiskey.”

Mike and I are now in the very pretty and ancient town of St. Andrews known worldwide for two things. The University of St.Andrews is the 3rd oldest in the UK behind Oxford and Cambridge. Last year it was rated top Uni by the ratings - something similar to our Maclean’s ratings. Founded in 1413 , they have let women study here since 1876. The royals Will and Kate went to school here , where they met. It is currently what they call “fresher week” for new students and last night the streets were crowded with rowdy groups of young people partying before tackling the fall term. Our room faced the Main Street and I can attest to the fact that they partied into the wee hours.
The second thing that people know about St.Andrews is the old golf course which is considered the home of golf because the sport was first played here in the 15th century. At one point, the King banned golf because it was distracting men from their archery practice - a more useful pursuit if you have to constantly fight the bloody English. Playing the ancient course is on many people’s bucket list. It’s a modest $320 ……if you can actually get a tee time. But golf is not on our itinerary for this trip so we’ll be spared that expense.
We fortified ourselves this morning with a full English. (Note that There is an unfortunate regulation in Scotland that you have to show the caloric content of foods on the menu. No one needs to know the caloric content of a full English breakfast!!! - it’s enough to put you off of your breakfast). Today we bus back to Edinburgh, take a quick trip to the Port town of Leith which was my Father’s home ( and also our dear friend Margaret’s). It was a poor, industrial port until the 80s when it started to become more developed and posh. Tomorrow morning we say a fond farewell or mar sin leat and catch a train south to Manchester area to visit Mike’s brother.

That’s all for now,
Heather/ MomRead more