Once I had decided that the Coastal Path was worth doing, no matter how unfit I felt, it wasn’t long until I was going again. Glasses mended and (slightly) better prepared, a few weeks later I walked another stretch of path with another friend, a 2-mile walk chosen by my friend at random to start from Balmerino Abbey. We followed the general direction of the Path along the beach, chatting about how to choose the best skimming stones while her tiny daughter fell asleep in her carrier, warmly bundled up and nestled against her mother’s heart. Here we joined a well-trodden mud path, going up into the woods while listening to the multitude of songs sung by birds returning home for spring. Occasionally stopping for a break from squelching, slipping and sliding through the ankle-deep mud, it was a joy to look around. This section is a beautiful walk; through old, tree-lined paths where the sunshine floats through the leaves, leaving a dappled carpet of sunlight and shadow on the ground. There are wooden bridges crossing little waterfalls and streams, the sound of the trickling water giving our ears a welcome break from the clamour of springtime birdsong. And all along the way, through the trees, we could glimpse the Tay River, making it’s majestic and stately progression through Fife and Tayside on it’s way to the North Sea.
We headed back when the mud path became impassable (even for sturdy walking boots) and decided to visit the ruins of Balmerino Abbey. There’s no charge to enter the small area where the best preserved remains sit. Most of the abbey is a jumbled pile of stones now, surrounded on this visit by blankets of snowdrops but there is still a wall of the Chapter House standing and the pointed arches give an idea of the size of the building and how grand it must have looked back in the 14th century when it was full of noise and people. Looking around other nearby buildings (especially the ones that overlook the ruins) it’s easy to see how the local people “upcycled” stones from the abbey when it was closed by the Reformation, carved Abbey stones being re-used as window lintels or door jambs. At the back of the site is the oldest tree in Fife, a huge old Spanish chestnut tree that was probably tiny at the time the Abbey walls were tall and the whole building was alive with ringing bells, chanting monks and gossiping pilgrims.
I was hooked when I realised that the Coastal Path was a way to combine many of my favourite things – nature, wildlife, walking, friendship, history, photography and writing. What more could anyone need? Earplugs apparently – according to my nephew after he’d been treated to one too many of my “insights” into Fife history.
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